Extra Chapter: Cornered Beast
Oct 13, 2077, Ottawa Suburbs | "A Rat in a Trap"
Karl Smith enjoyed this false tranquility at the Ottawa suburban stronghold. As the nominal security chief here-a branch base of "Babel" organization, he knew well the undercurrents beneath this calm.
He sipped his coffee, gaze sweeping across the control room—several technicians monitoring sensors, while in the corner, several armed personnel in tactical vests boredly cleaned their weapons. This place was both a data center and a heavily fortified fortress.
"Boss, still no word from the 'Puppeteer'?" A young technician couldn't help asking, tone mixing awe and curiosity toward Leon Schmidt.
Karl snorted, setting down his cup: "He and his 'Cleaner,' plus that 'Beast Tamer,' are busy serving their new 'pet.' Heaven knows what they'll stir up this time." His tone was flat, but inwardly he shared the same dissatisfaction as the complaining veteran member nearby.
"Requisitioned a batch of top equipment before leaving," the veteran member muttered, forcefully typing on the keyboard. "Latest consciousness fluctuation stabilizers, high-precision neural mapping arrays... money flowing out like water, just to do some 'stress test' on 'that monster.' The 'Architect' is far too indulgent with him!"
Karl frowned, maintaining order: "Do your assigned work. Mr. Leon's experiments have highest priority—direct orders." He lowered his voice, adding a hint of cold warning. "Don't forget that Ottawa idiot manager Aiden Foster's fate. Just asking him to handle some 'Stardroop' transmission log cleanup, he got so scared he wet himself, nearly exposed us all. In the end, didn't Miss 'Cleaner' have to perform 'thorough cleanup'? Keep your mouth and curiosity in check if you want to live long—"
His words were violently severed by two deafening explosions! Boom! Boom!
Followed by the piercing sound of tearing metal!
"Enemy attack!!" An armed member jumped up, roaring as he rushed toward the weapons locker.
"All external sensors offline!!"
"Backup power cut!!"
"We've been breached! It's police! Heavy firepower!"
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Red emergency lights flashed wildly, alarms tearing through the air. Karl's heart instantly sank to the bottom. Impossible! He personally designed the defenses here!
"Initiate emergency protocols! All combat personnel to positions! Group A defend the entrance, Group B protect the data core room! Technicians, attempt to force-start data destruction program!" Karl roared, drawing his pistol, instantly switching from civilian administrator to combat commander. Panic spread among technicians, but armed personnel displayed well-trained responses, organizing defensive lines using cover.
Fierce firefight erupted instantly. Pulse energy beams and solid bullets crisscrossed wildly in corridors, striking metal walls, splashing dazzling sparks and debris. The attackers' firepower was precise and fierce, coordination seamless, clearly prepared.
"How do they know our weak points?!"
"East corridor lost! Hans and Joel are down!"
"Data erasure program startup failed! System's been locked! There's a mole?!"
Desperate shouts and casualty reports kept coming. Karl hid behind a reinforced control console, watching surveillance screens go black one by one. He saw the attack's commander—an exceptionally young female constable, her figure appearing and disappearing in the gunsmoke and flickering lights. Her orders were clear and calm, each gesture precisely pointing to defensive weaknesses, her subordinates acting with terrifying efficiency.
It was that constable named Valeria Mendoza! He'd seen her at the station entrance—a rookie constable! How could she possibly have authority to command such an operation? And how could she so precisely locate this place?!
The battle rapidly intensified. Two other senior cadres—Klaus, in charge of armed forces, and Marta, handling external liaison—were instantly killed by police precision fire while attempting to organize a countercharge.
Valeria's figure was ghost-like. She didn't rashly advance but occupied key firing positions, using precise shots to suppress armed personnel, preventing them from raising their heads. She sometimes moved swiftly, using hand signals to direct squad crossfire advances, sometimes calmly stopped, using some device to scan the environment, easily cracking electronic locks and defensive barriers one after another. Her movements were efficient, calm, like a perfect war machine, forming a terrifying contrast with her age.
The defensive line completely collapsed. When the last blast door was breached by directional explosives, when cold gun muzzles pressed hard against his skull, when that female constable named Valeria used irresistible force to cuff his hands behind his back, Karl Smith's mind went blank.
His expensive coffee cup had long since shattered on the floor, brown stains spreading like their failed fate, filthy and spreading. Leon had taken the most elite forces and most expensive equipment, yet left the most vulnerable nest and a group of second-rate armed personnel to the enemy. And the enemy... had sent a terrifyingly formidable "rising star" far exceeding their expectations.
He seemed to hear "Puppeteer" Leon Schmidt in some distant, safe "laboratory," completely unaware of this, perhaps still focused on his mad experiments, entirely oblivious that his important Ottawa stronghold had been completely uprooted by someone he absolutely couldn't have anticipated.
Defeat, fury, and a hint of fear toward the "Architect's" approaching wrath suddenly overwhelmed him...

