Ch.171

Within the research facility grounds, Room 503 in one of the nine buildings appeared as neglected as other departments, as expected.

Inside that room, a sterile metallic gleam emanated a commanding presence. The experimental refrigerator, notably larger in capacity compared to its household counterparts, stood out. Well, given its elongated dimensions both vertically and horizontally, it was only natural.

Anis, surmising that what they were looking for might be inside, approached the refrigerator.

Following her, everyone, including Moore, walked towards it.

There didn't seem to be any traps, especially evident.

Anis reached out, opened the door, and...

"...Empty flasks, nothing more."

Eleven flasks remained inserted in the flask holder designed to prevent spills. Moreover, all of them were empty.

"...Only one is missing."

Neon pointed while counting the number, eventually stopping his finger's movement at the spot where a flask was absent.

It seemed their efforts had been in vain.

"...Well... the documents were created around the time of the first invasion. There's a possibility it was moved to another location."

"...Or someone got ahead of us. I really dislike that kind of situation."

"...Yeah, you can sense that in the atmosphere."

Standing next to him, Papillon peered into the refrigerator with a disdainful look, as if expressing annoyance. Moore shrugged slightly, closed the door, and the task at hand was done.

"...But I have a bad feeling. The fact that the security at the entrance was already disabled, and..."

"...I can't detect any heat source from Rapture."

"Rapunze— I mean, the Holy Lady might have disabled the security?"

"...Hmm... I'm not so sure..."

At this point, Moore found it highly likely that the golden saint, currently a pilgrim, had deactivated the security throughout the facility. When he inquired about this possibility to his disciple, Neon could only shake his head. It seemed the question arose whether she could pull off such a subtle maneuver.

"...She spoke as if she had been here several times. I thought she might have deactivated the security here..."

"Well, that's not entirely implausible..."

Anis, noticing Moore taking out a soft pack from the body armor pouch, offered an electronic lighter. Moore accepted it, lit his cigarette, and exhaled a purple smoke.

"If it wasn't Rapture or the Holy Lady, then who?"

"...And what if it wasn't?"

With the cigarette still in his mouth, Moore asked in return. Anis pocketed the electronic lighter.

"Actually, Papillon was a decoy. Papillon Mk.II was trailing us."

"...I see. It's not entirely impossible."

Of course, the likelihood of such a scenario was significantly low, but ruling it out entirely was implausible.

Anis had just cracked a light-hearted joke, but seeing Moore nodding in agreement with a surprisingly serious expression, she couldn't help but smile wryly.

"What are you talking about!? Major, don't take it seriously. Anyway, if that's the case, then it's reliable—"

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"Get down!"

A faint sound of slicing through the air. The sharp approaching noise was clearly discernible.

Although he had just lit his cigarette, Moore didn't have a choice. He spat out the tobacco, covered Papillon, who was standing beside him, as a warning echoed around, and the moment he pushed her to the floor, the walls of the room blew out, and fragments of building materials scattered.

Not only did fragments of shattered walls scatter, but dust accumulated over the years also billowed up.

"Enemy attack! Return fire!!"

There was no time to pay attention to Papillon, who seemed confused by what had happened, eyes darting in black and white.

Rapture's heat source couldn't be detected, as reported by Rapi a while ago. There was no reason to doubt her report.

If that's the case, then the attack came from something other than Rapture.

Moore, now on his feet, unlocked the safety of the assault rifle he carried, then aimed the gun at the massive hole in the wall while still on one knee.

The dust swirling in the air inside the room made it difficult to spot any enemy presence.

However, he noticed a shimmer, suggesting something moving, and his index finger pulled the trigger.

"Rapi, Anis, fire grenades! Neon, secure the retreat! Hurry!"

A slender figure rushed to Moore's side, and at intervals, gunfire started.

It was Rapi. He felt relieved at her presence as she had positioned herself in a familiar spot without needing to divert his gaze.

Annis seemed to have fired a grenade. The flat, unimpressive sound of the launch echoed as the grenade hit beyond the shattered hole, followed by the explosive blast, sending a gust of wind slapping everyone's cheeks.

Rapi also loaded a grenade into the launcher, fired it into the hole, and Neon raised his voice.

"Master, secure the retreat!"

"Understood! Neon, lead the way! Anis, take Papillon with you!"

"Come on! Hurry up! Do you want to die!?"

The attacker's identity or origin remained unknown, but resolving it through a discussion over tea on the table seemed challenging.

Escaping was the only option here.

Neon opened the door to the room, searched the corridor to confirm the absence of enemies, and finished the reconnaissance.

Following his instructions, Anis also got up, helped Papillon stand, and followed Neon.

In the confined space of the corridor, a pointsman like Neon with a shotgun was effective. Moore hoped she understood the reason for putting her in the lead for guiding the retreat, even if it was the opposite of the usual. While considering that, Moore lowered his posture and approached Rapi.

Even during this time, with his finger on the trigger, he fired short bursts of shots at the unknown presence beyond the wall, trying to pin them down while signaling Rapi with hand signs.

It meant "go ahead."

While it might be unusual, he could entrust his back to her. In his experience, there were only a few people he could trust and rely on. In the midst of them, Moore, with his penetrating presence, might be an anomaly.

Returning a nod to him, Rapi lifted her hips.

While adding gunfire to avoid being detected by the enemy, she slowly pulled back, tapped his shoulder carrying the backpack with one hand, released her finger from the trigger, and sprinted towards the open door behind.

The moment her shoulder was tapped, Moore's gunfire intensified.

Until then, it seemed to cover the amount of projectiles Rapi had been firing, but now, he was likely intensifying the shots to avoid giving away her retreat.

It should be happening soon.

Rapi also successfully retreated. Moore quickly replaced the magazine of the assault rifle, threw the empty one into the dump pouch, and then palm-struck the bolt catch and bolt forward assist. He performed a fresh magazine reload and closed the chamber forcefully.

Once again, aiming the muzzle through the shattered hole, he continued to fire armor-piercing and tracer rounds for Rapture. Meanwhile, his left hand reached for the pouch.

The safety device trigger of the pulled-out hand grenade was firmly gripped. Moore interrupted the shooting, pulled the pin with the free hand's fingers, and casually tossed the grenade.

"Grenade!"

A high-pitched female voice, Nikke or Pilgrim.

Finally, a part of the unknown presence became clear.

It was unclear why they attacked, but the possibility of targeting the Unchained was conceivable. But for what purpose?

Feeling the blast and shockwave from the exploding hand grenade on his back, Moore exited Room 503 and proceeded down the corridor.

"Commander! Hurry!"

"Go ahead! Get outside!"

They obediently waited for his joining. Responding to the urgent Anis, Moore proceeded down the corridor, but just then...

Stop there. Coming from the left.

A familiar, low, calm voice echoed in his mind.

In an instinctive reaction, Moore's steps halted. At that moment, the left-side wall, from his perspective, exploded.

There was no sound of projectiles or shells approaching—no audible sonic boom.

The dust and debris from the blown-out and collapsed wall blocked the path between Moore and the others.

Something moved within it.

Reflexively, as Moore readied his assault rifle again, the long legs extending from the thick dust and debris blocked the gun barrel, undoubtedly a human's, deflecting the aim.

"Ah!"

Coming.

He didn't expect his aim to be deflected, but the next move was undoubtedly closing in.

In the moment of whether he prepared himself or not, the tall figure that leaped out reached for Moore's assault rifle.

Anticipating this, he held the assault rifle with only his left hand and directed his right hand toward the leg holster.

An impersonal hand reached for the assault rifle made of Tetra Line, and as it grasped it, the gun body creaked.

It was unclear just how strong the grip was.

However, what mattered was that he fell for the bait.

The safety of the .45 caliber automatic pistol, pulled from the leg holster, was disengaged by his thumb. With the pistol aimed at the silhouette's abdomen, one shot, two shots, and .45 ACP bullets were fired.

There was a noticeable impact. Undoubtedly.

Proof of that──the sound resonated as if it had hit a sturdy metal wall.

"---Hooh?"

"That's cheating."

Their eye levels were almost the same, and their heights seemed similar. Low voices with different vectors echoed from both confronting figures.

On one side, a low voice expressing admiration with an unexpected element.

On the other, a low voice accusing the action of cheating mixed with a sigh.

Moore holstered the pistol with a thin wisp of gun smoke rising from the muzzle, a remnant of the gunfire.

The figure in front, wearing a high-collared military uniform and a long coat, also released his grip on the assault rifle he had held.

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----Whether he was a commander or not was unclear. Whether wearing an old-style military uniform was a personal preference or due to some sentiment was also uncertain.

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---He...might be a commander, but the existence of a man fully armed, gripping an assault rifle for Nikke, and taking operational action on the ground was extremely puzzling.

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Both sides had no understanding of the reasons and the unknown identity.

However, there was one thing in common between them.

In essence──both of these individuals, for some reason, felt excited.

Moore lowered his backpack on the spot and then removed his helmet and headset. He also took off the sling belt that held the assault rifle to his body and placed it on the floor.

"What's the meaning of this?"

The man in front, with ice-blue, chilly eyes narrowed, questioned Moore. The actions seemed incomprehensible.

To this question, Moore, with a stiff neck, creaked it a few times and then pulled out the Elysium knife hung on the side of his body armor. He opened his mouth.

"It's not fair."

"────"

The man's response left him momentarily taken aback. Chewing on the meaning of the uttered words, he eventually snorted lightly, relaxed his whole body, extended his right leg diagonally forward, and assumed a half-body stance.

"What about that knife? Don't you think it's unsophisticated to talk about fairness and then do something like that?"

"I'm fighting against someone who likely has a fully artificial body. For that kind of opponent, forgive me for being this much unsophisticated. Or... Are you that narrow-minded?"

Both confrontational figures directed their cold blue and deep brown eyes toward each other, observing without missing a detail. However, what followed was a verbal exchange with sarcasm, seemingly ignoring the observations.

Their personalities might surprisingly be similar.

"──Shall I ask for your name?"

"──It's basic courtesy to introduce yourself first. If you're human, you should at least uphold basic manners. Weren't you taught that by your parents?"

"──...It's Johan."

Johan, wearing a facial expression like he had just bitten into a bitter bug, revealed his name.

The clear sound resonated in his eardrums. While facing each other, Moore sent a brief nod.

"It's an honor to meet you."

"What about you?"

"If you want to know, check my ID after you kill me. Just kidding. Your expressions are more readable than I thought."

Easy to read on the face – it could be a colleague with a familiar face, a long-time acquaintance, described in various ways. But when that observation, often said by him or her, is uttered by someone encountered only recently, even Johan struggles to react.

"I'm Moore. It'll be a short acquaintance until death..."

"I see. I'll remember that well."

──Shall we begin?

──Yes, let's begin.

With gloved hands holding the knife, they prepared to face each other.

On one side, mechanical hands created clenched fists.

Both breathed evenly, and a thrilling moment marked the start of an enjoyable time.

"Commander Johan! We've captured them!!"

The thick curtain of dust and debris that had cleared unnoticed.

Having noticed the sight of his subordinates being restrained and Papillon in the corridor, Moore sheathed his knife.

"...Well done, Isabel."

A faint click escaped from Johan, but what followed was praise for his subdued subordinates, not concealing his melancholic demeanor.

"Don't point your guns at my subordinates. If you're pointing them, it should be at me."

Raising both hands to show they were unarmed, Moore caught Johann's gaze and closed his eyes for a moment.

Opening his eyes, he turned his shoulder and issued instructions with a calm, low voice.

"──Everyone, lower your guns."

Receiving this order, the Pilgrims seemed to be unable to hide their confusion.