"Where was the failure?"
That familiar voice, lazy and indifferent, drifted from behind—like a cat stretching in the night, yawning carelessly. But instead of comfort, it sent a sharp jolt through the nerves, raising the hairs on the back of the neck.
Maverick was already caked in mud, drenched in rain and blood, his vision blurred. But he didn't care.
He pushed himself upright, wiped a hand across his face, and pointed to the distant pile of burning wreckage.
"A piece of wood? No." His tone was flat, detached."That's what you were looking for—Chairman Park."
The Skinner Chief's pupils constricted, a flicker of light sparking in his eyes before he let out a surprised exclamation.
"What? He's dead?! You did this? Well done!"
Maverick merely tilted his chin slightly, offering a smirk—he didn't bother responding.
If the credit fell to him, so be it.
The fire still crackled at the edge of the cliffs, a natural execution chamber—where the desperate met their end.
"They tried to run," Maverick added casually."I took care of it."
The unexpected victory left the Chief momentarily stunned.
His gaze bore into Maverick's eyes, searching for something.
But what he saw was no longer a panicked, aimless boy.
He saw a blade.
A blade stained in fresh blood, still warm.
Maverick's voice dropped.
"Move. The estate is in chaos right now—this is our best chance to escape. If we wait another minute, none of us will make it."
He didn't waste words.
His transformation had already taken place—between fire and corpses.
The forest returned to its eerie stillness, only the sound of raindrops murmuring against the leaves, a quiet sobbing of the earth.
The valley reeked of blood and gunpowder, their scents merging into a thick, suffocating death—a final breath of the reaper before departure.
Through the charred stones, Maverick tread carefully.
With his flashlight lost, he relied on the distant flames, feeling his way through broken metal shards and spent bullet casings.
A battlefield whispering its buried truths.
The Skinner Chief moved like a beast, tense and restless, nearly stumbling over the wreckage of mechanical serpents.
Maverick instinctively reached out, brushing his arm.
The Skinner Chief said nothing—he merely inhaled sharply, like a predator readying to strike, before surging forward toward the canyon.
The night was thick with ink, the wind ragged and hollow, filled with the whispers of the dead.
When they finally reached the camp, a sickening stench engulfed them.
It gripped their throats like invisible hands, pressing in.
Inside the cave, the fire danced wildly, flickering like dying souls offering their last farewell.
Through scorched stone and fallen ruins, they stepped into the hollow chamber.
Debris littered the ground—but no bodies.
That silence was worse.
A trap, waiting to be sprung.
Maverick's eyes narrowed.
In the corner, weak flashes pulsed—disruptors.
His pulse quickened.
He pushed forward, deeper into the shadows.
The darkness felt alive, stretching further with every step, threatening to consume him.
Within moments, he hit a wall, crashing down, his forehead throbbing from the impact.
Crouched, regaining his breath—
Then—
A hand seized him.
The Skinner Chief.
Maverick blinked.
Was this man's night vision enhanced?
Minutes later, they spotted a figure, hiding in the dark.
"Chen?" Maverick whispered.
Dr. Chan trembled as he stepped forward, words lost in his throat—
Then—
A blur moved.
Lee.
His gun was drawn, fingers tangled in Dr. Chan's hair, the barrel pressed against his forehead.
"Hahaha! Nobody move! You move, his head pops!"
Air froze, sweat chilled on their spines.
"You two just walk out with me, and we talk."
Dr. Chan's face was ghostly pale.
"This bastard was following us?! Everyone else left, yet he stayed behind?!"
Lee sneered.
"You don't get rare catches without walking into the tiger's den."
His gaze shifted to the Chief.
"You. Just you. Come with me, and I let him go."
"Not interested?"
"Then he dies."
Dr. Chan gasped.
"Don't—!"
Before the words could finish—
Lee slashed his hidden claw knife, slicing into Chan's neck.
Blood trickled down his throat.
The Skinner Chief's eyes burned.
"Fine. I'll go. Let him walk."
Lee raised an eyebrow.
"Let him go? And risk losing control over you? Cut off an arm."
"Make it both."
The exchange dragged—until Maverick let out a low chuckle.
"Enough. This is pathetic. You two are working together, aren't you? Quite the performance tonight."
The air dropped into a deathly chill.
He stepped forward.
"Chief. How did they find such a hidden cave?"
"Still don't see it? Someone tipped them off."
His eyes turned to Dr. Chan.
"A tech expert. Someone who acted alone more than once. Who else fits?"
Dr. Chan's expression twisted.
"You think I betrayed you?! I was always with you!"
"But this time—you stayed behind. What were you really doing?"
Lee scoffed.
"Enough talk. Choose—"
"That shove," Dr. Chan muttered."I really thought I was done for…"
Then—
Another voice cut through.
Cool.
Unfazed.
A woman's voice.
"Honestly? I was the only one who didn't fall for it."
Dr. Carmen.
She stepped out of the shadows, sharp eyes locking onto Lee.
His pupils constricted.
"You figured it out? You all planned to trap me?"
His fury boiled over—his gun wavering between Maverick and Carmen.
But he underestimated Maverick.
In a single motion—
Maverick yanked the stun gun from Dr. Chan's belt.
One shot.
Chan convulsed, collapsing, Lee startled—Maverick shoved him aside.
And the Chief moved faster.
A swift strike—
Lee's arm severed.
Blood gushed, painting the cavern floor red.
"AAAAAHHHHH!!!"
The screams echoed endlessly.
Maverick lit the fire.
Its glow illuminated Lee—curled, shaking, reduced to a trembling wreck.
Dr. Carmen stepped forward to help—but the Chief held her back.
She sighed, turning toward Dr. Chan instead.
"Don't waste time," she muttered.
"I lowered the voltage. He was faking."
Dr. Chan groaned, lifting himself.
"You make it sound so convincing… Thought I was actually dead."
Maverick studied Carmen, curiosity flickering.
"How did you know our plan?"
Carmen grinned.
"I'm a doctor. I watch people lie every day."
Dr. Chan shuddered.
"When he shoved me toward the Chief, I really thought I was about to get skinned."
A voice echoed from outside.
"Relax. Maverick gave me a signal."
The Skinner Chief strode in, leaning close to Maverick.
His voice dropped.
"If you say you _meant_ to grab my ass earlier—"
"We have a problem."
Maverick's face stiffened.
A realization dawning.
Back in the dark—when he had reached out—
That wasn't a shoulder.
…That really hadn't been a shoulder.