Major Ward and his team stood frozen, barely able to process what just happened.
From their perspective, Morell's figure had only appeared as a brief blur—like momentary distortion from signal interference.
Yet in that split second, Arasaka's previously well-organized, aggressively coordinated crossfire had been torn apart from the inside by some invisible hand, completely dismantled.
They couldn't track Morell's movements—precise to the millimeter—could only watch helplessly as the results unfolded before them.
Arasaka soldiers dropped one after another, most not even managing a grunt.
Some suddenly sprouted holes in their foreheads, others had throats cleanly severed, still others lost entire gun arms.
Death arrived with efficiency exceeding human reaction limits, precisely visiting each Arasaka soldier.
This wasn't combat anymore but a one-sided, cold extermination.
Two distinctly different gunfire sounds interwove through the air—on one side, the panicked scattered bursts from Arasaka soldiers' 'Masamune' SMGs; on the other, Morell's auxiliary SMG's steady, brief taps. Each report like Death's metronome, inevitably accompanying a life's end.
Major Ward—a battlefield veteran—his initial shock lasted less than two seconds.
Forcing down the chill in his heart, he hoarsely shouted to his men: "Snap out of it! Covering fire! Clear the flanks! Match her rhythm!"
He immediately realized their only option was not getting in that terrifying entity's way while cleaning up stragglers who'd somehow survived the first sweep.
Militech soldiers finally came to, leaning out from cover, pouring rounds at Arasaka soldiers attempting retreat or hiding in Morell's attack blind spots.
Their firepower became accompaniment to Morell's dance of death, barely filling insignificant gaps in the slaughter.
The fight started without warning, ended even faster.
Under two minutes—when the last Arasaka soldier was shot through the back of his neck from thirty meters while trying to vault a low wall, all gunfire abruptly ceased.
The abandoned mining area returned to deathly silence, only wind whistling through metal frames.
Thick gunpowder smoke mixed with fresh blood scent, forming a nauseating odor.
Over twelve elite Arasaka soldiers' corpses lay scattered among ruins in various twisted poses, silently testifying to this brief, brutal killing.
Morell stood still at the field's center, slowly returning the auxiliary SMG to her arm-mounted hardpoint.
Her dark-gray combat attire remained pristine as new—even her boot soles showed no obvious stains—as if she'd just calmly walked through filthy ground yet remained untainted by dust.
She calmly turned toward Major Ward. Those modified optical lenses swept across him and his team, simultaneously confirming threats were eliminated while silently inquiring whether the transaction would continue.
Her current posture formed an incredibly stark contrast with the surrounding hellscape, as if that efficient slaughter had been merely routine warm-up for her.
"Transaction continues." Her voice came through, steady without the slightest fluctuation.
Major Ward took deep breaths, struggling to calm his inner turmoil, signaling his men to continue verification and material handoff.
His gaze toward Morell held complex emotions—both deep respect for that battle plus barely-concealed burning ambition.
Once handoff confirmation completed, he stepped forward, speaking sincerely to Morell: "Lieutenant, your skills are still as outstanding as back in your unit days."
He deliberately used Morell's Militech military rank, voice carrying just the right nostalgia. "Honestly, seeing you like this reminds me of Mobile Division days.
If Jackson and the others knew your current situation, they'd definitely be happy for you."
He paused, carefully observing Morell's reactions, continuing: "Militech still considers you one of our own. If you're willing, we could arrange an informal gathering—like old times at the Officers' Club. After all, some bonds don't just break because you say so."
Morell stood still. Those modified eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
After hearing Ward's words, her expression remained calm and waveless—as if those names and memories just mentioned were merely breezes passing by ears.
"I remember Jackson." Her voice steady as Badlands' eternal night. "Also remember every day in Mobile Division."
She paused slightly, gaze directly meeting Ward's: "But these memories won't affect my judgment, much less shake my loyalty. My Master's decisions—I cannot influence. Transaction complete. I'll relay your intentions, but don't hold expectations."
Her tone stated established facts—undeniable, leaving no room.
Finished speaking, she simply gestured, signaling Rebecca to follow.
Both carried heavy supply crates, quickly vanishing into Badlands' endless darkness, leaving Militech's group standing in place, watching their departure direction.
Major Ward stood there, watching those two figures completely swallowed by night.
He understood—that probe about comrade bonds just now, like stones thrown into deep pools, hadn't even stirred ripples.
He silently paused, then ordered scene cleanup, rapid withdrawal.
He knew full well—Arasaka had taken massive losses this time, wouldn't let it slide easily.
For Militech, they also needed reassessing how to deal with this mysterious faction.
——
Returning to the wasteland workshop, Morell neatly placed transaction-obtained supply crates in designated areas, then detailed the entire transaction process to Cairo.
When mentioning Arasaka's sudden ambush, Cairo's mechanical fingers—currently inspecting supply lists—paused slightly.
This unplanned conflict not only wasted his time but disrupted established efficiency. He detested these unnecessary interferences brought by others' stupidity.
"Arasaka." Cairo's voice carried cold implications. "They need paying for their foolish actions."
His assessment completed rapidly. Simple defense or warnings were no longer sufficient—must take more deterrent responses.
Not from anger but efficiency considerations—must completely prevent similar interferences recurring.
"Morell, target Arasaka." Cairo's directives concise and clear. "No need hiding identities. Let them clearly know this is responses to this ambush."
He wanted Arasaka—plus all potential covetous parties—understanding any provocative actions would invite merciless retaliation.
"Understood, Master." Morell slightly nodded. Her combat systems had already begun pre-mission self-checks.
Regarding upcoming operations, she had zero questions—only absolute obedience.
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