"Now then, the only one left is... over there."
Past the fields and flowerbeds, looming beyond the silhouettes of the small houses, stood a massive structure.
The surrounding neighborhood had likely gone to sleep. Every window was dark; I couldn't hear a single voice or sense any movement.
The only sounds were the wind rustling the grass and the distant, natural murmur of flowing water.
For a moment, the bucolic atmosphere almost made me forget that we were still inside Neo Babel.
With that strangely out-of-place feeling clinging to me, I drew closer to the facility.
And, as expected, they were there.
Several guards were on patrol.
Their pace was slow and their tension appeared low, but I could tell from the way they walked that they had a certain level of training.
...Hardly any mechanical sensors.
Even if there were any, they were minimal. I didn't see anything "obvious" like a cluster of surveillance cameras or automated turrets.
Were those believers on patrol, or...?
Based on the guards I could see, infiltration seemed possible.
Was it complacency? Did they think no one could possibly make it this far? Or were they so confident that it wouldn't matter even if someone did?
I couldn't tell.
So, we decided to check the perimeter first.
Keeping our distance from the building, we circled the exterior, stepping through the grass and sticking to the shadows cast on the stone paving.
The transmitter's signal was vague. It was certain that the target was inside this facility, but his exact location remained a mystery.
There were no easy ways in. The front entrance was out of the question.
The rear offered no hidden passages and very few windows.
However...
Up high, I spotted a section that looked like a small, protruding terrace.
It was one of the few spots on the outer wall that faced the exterior.
"...We can get in through there."
I signaled with my eyes, and Kaya gave a small nod.
The guard patrols moved in a fixed cycle. Two men would round the corner just as the next two headed toward the opposite side.
There was a gap between them—hardly more than ten seconds.
We waited for that exact moment.
I sprinted toward the wall, sliding into the darkness and pressing my back against the stone. A cold, damp chill seeped through my clothes.
I cupped my hands together to create a step.
"Go."
At my whisper, Kaya took a breath and ran.
The hem of her robe fluttered as her slender shadow leapt onto my hands.
The instant her weight hit my palms, I used my whole body like a spring to launch her upward.
With a grunt of effort from deep in my gut, I threw her into the air.
She moved as light and supple as a cat.
Kaya's body cut through the moonlight for a fraction of a second before her fingers caught the edge of the terrace. She slid over the railing and landed without a sound.
A quick glance around. No problems.
A moment later, a thin wire dropped down.
I grabbed it and looked up.
I could see Kaya securing the wire around a pillar.
Perfect.
I hauled myself up in one go.
I kicked off the wall, taking two, then three steps, using the stone ledges to gain height.
Finally, I pulled myself up with my arms and vaulted onto the terrace.
Once I was up, Kaya retrieved the wire and tossed it to me. I coiled it up and tucked it into my belt.
A glass door stood before us.
Beyond it, the room was dark and silent. A keyhole... no, it was a mechanical lock designed to look like one. An old-fashioned style, not electronically controlled.
Rare to see these days. ...Is it intentional?
Kaya gave a small shrug, but it didn't change what we had to do.
"Leave it to me," she whispered, placing her hand against the glass.
Her fingertips glowed a faint red and white, and a heat haze-like distortion began to ripple through the air around her hand.
With a dull sizzling sound, the glass began to melt and run.
She targeted only the area around the lock, working with surgical precision. Droplets of molten glass fell to the floor, leaving small scorch marks on the carpet.
Once the lock mechanism was exposed, Kaya slid her finger inside. With a soft click, it disengaged.
We opened the door as quietly as possible and slipped inside.
It looked like a guest room. It wasn't large, containing only a bed, a vanity, and a small desk. A thin painting hung on the wall.
A fine layer of dust had settled over everything; it hadn't been used in a while.
Their management is sloppy.
Thinking that, I held my hand over the glass door we had just come through.
I activated my Repair skill.
The melted, distorted glass returned to its original shape as if time were being rewound.
The scorched carpet followed suit, the black carbonization receding until the original fibers were restored. The traces of our entry were gone.
"Done. Let's move."
Kaya nodded silently.
I pressed my ear to the door, listening for any movement in the hallway.
Nothing. No footsteps, no breathing.
I eased the door open and stepped out.
The hall was dim.
Sconces on the walls provided only the barest minimum of light. The stone corridor was chilly, and footsteps echoed easily here. I chose my footing with care.
Judging by the view from the outside, we were somewhere near the middle of the facility.
We needed to map out the layout and find where everyone was stationed.
I steadied my breathing and consciously expanded the display range of my Speech Bubbles.
My vision shifted.
In the darkness, "voices" that shouldn't have been visible began to float into view.
No bubbles appeared on this floor. Either there was no one here, or they were all asleep.
On what appeared to be the first floor, I could see several bubbles moving about.
And then—above. On the floor directly above us, a group of people were clustered together.
We'd start with the ones closest to us.
However, I couldn't afford to be overconfident.
Speech Bubbles didn't appear for those who were asleep, and there was always the chance that the believers' "hearts" simply couldn't be read.
We moved forward with extreme caution.
We climbed the stairs.
The stone steps were cold, and the handrail felt gritty. The floor above had a similar layout, but this one felt "lived in." Faint light and air leaked from beneath the doors, and the sharp smells of alcohol and drugs stung my nose.
As we drew closer, the text within the bubbles became legible.
“Ugh, why do I have to be the one on lookout? We’ve been dealing with the cult for so long now, you’d think they’d stop being so high-strung.”
“Seriously. I don't care what happened in the Upper District, he shouldn't be taking it out on us. That damn brat. No wonder he’s still just an acting executive.”
Two men were sitting in chairs outside a door.
Based on their thoughts—Eradicata.
Specifically, the anti-Junkhead faction.
Our target had to be in the room they were guarding.
No bubbles appeared from inside the room, suggesting the occupant was likely asleep.
I locked eyes with Kaya and we shared a silent nod.
A hand signal.
The same as the old days.
Kaya leapt, her body sliding onto a ceiling beam to vanish into the shadows.
I lowered my center of gravity and picked my angle.
—The signal.
The moment Kaya's finger twitched, I lunged.
Before the floor could even creak, I was on the first man.
I didn't punch him. I needed a silent end.
I went for the neck.
I didn't snap the vertebrae; instead, I applied pressure to the joints at an angle designed to sever consciousness and block the nerves.
The man’s eyes fluttered, a breathless gasp escaped his lips, and he went limp.
At the same moment, Kaya dropped from above.
She wrapped her arms around the second man’s throat from behind.
A silent sleeper hold. The man's legs kicked once, then the strength drained from his body.
Supporting their weight, I dragged both men into a nearby empty room.
They didn't make a sound.
Kaya and I turned our attention to the door they had been guarding.
I opened it slowly and we eased ourselves inside.
The interior was opulent, but in a gaudy, nouveau riche way.
Gold trim, thick curtains, massive mirrors—the decor was blinding.
The smells of perfume, booze, and drugs mingled here, making the back of my throat itch. I forced myself to take shallow breaths.
A man was snoring loudly in the bed.
And around him, three naked women lay slumped over.
Bruises were clearly visible on their skin, and their eyes were hollow, unable to focus.
They were breathing, but they looked like empty shells, their souls drained away. It was clear how they had been treated.
The man in the bed was exactly who I expected.
The Eradicata Acting Executive who had attacked us in the Upper District. I’d already forgotten his name.
That brat who had sized us up with a smirk—the one whose desire to defy Junkhead by siding with the Order was written all over him.
I glanced at Kaya.
She moved without a word, knowing exactly what to do.
She stripped the sheets and efficiently bundled the women up in them, gagging them so no sound could escape.
I stood by the bed, looking down at the man’s sleeping face.
His breath, thick with the scent of alcohol and drugs, came out in heavy snores. Honestly, the nerve of this guy to sleep so soundly.
...Well then.
Time to wake up.