Chapter 10: The Price of Blood
The cargo hall had transformed into a chamber of reverberating chaos. The smoke of gunpowder mixed with the metallic scent of blood and the concrete dust from missed shots. The sniper in the control room, now a rat trapped in his own snare, continued firing blindly, his bullets ricocheting off steel and shattered glass.
Klaus used the noise as cover. He moved from behind the crates to a row of industrial containers, his M1911 sweeping the area. The second guard at the barricade had regrouped with the group's leader—the deep-voiced man Klaus had heard—up in the open offices. They were now in a strong defensive position, covering the main entrance and access to the interior of the complex.
The two "bait"—the arsenal man and his younger companion—entered cautiously through the semi-open cargo door, their faces pale with terror and triumph. They saw the two bodies on the ground, Klaus's work, and were immediately met with a hail of bullets from the two men entrenched in the offices.
The younger one screamed and fell, a bullet piercing his leg. The arsenal man fired back desperately, dragging himself behind a forklift for cover.
Klaus quickly analyzed the situation through his thermal goggles. Two enemies remaining, well-positioned. Two "allies," one incapacitated. And a pesky sniper, but contained. The balance had shifted, but not enough.
He needed a game-changer. Something to break the stalemate once and for all.
His mind went to his inventory. The shotgun was powerful but slow to reload. The M1911 was precise but not ideal for suppression. And then he remembered. The Mk2 Fragmentation Grenades [UNCOMMON].
He had never used one before. The physics, the detonation timing—it was a mystery. But the theory was simple: pull the pin, throw, and take cover.
Positioned behind the container, he materialized the grenade in his hand. It was heavier than he imagined—a serrated, threatening metal cylinder. He eyed the office opening where the two men were. A semi-enclosed space. Perfect.
"Grenade!" he shouted—not out of courtesy, but to terrify them, forcing them from cover.
He pulled the pin with his teeth—a gesture he had seen in movies and now felt viscerally, the metallic taste and the spring snapping free—and hurled the grenade in a high arc into the office.
The seconds that followed were the longest of his life. The fighting stopped. All that could be heard was the screech of the sniper in the control room.
Then, the explosion.
It was a muffled, deep BOOM, followed by the distinct sound of metal twisting and glass shattering. A cloud of dust and smoke erupted from the office opening. Klaus's thermal goggles were momentarily blinded by a burst of white heat that then dissipated, revealing two heat signatures that had disintegrated into multiple weak points and scattered before vanishing completely.
>> ENEMY RECRUIT ELIMINATED. +50 EXP. <<
>> ENEMY RECRUIT ELIMINATED. +50 EXP. <<
Silence.
The sniper in the control room stopped firing. The arsenal man, behind the forklift, froze, staring at the carnage.
Klaus stepped out from cover, M1911 in hand, advancing. He was no longer a ghost; he was an avenger risen from the smoke. He ignored the wounded man groaning on the floor and headed toward the control room.
The door was locked from the inside. Klaus didn't hesitate. He aimed the M1911 at the lock and emptied the remaining magazine. Pap! Pap! Pap! Pap! The wood and metal splintered. He kicked the door open violently.
Inside, the sniper had thrown his rifle aside and was on his knees, hands behind his head.
"Please! No! I surrender! We can split everything!" he begged, his voice trembling.
Klaus looked at him. A middle-aged man, face marked by exhaustion. Could have been a father, an accountant, anything in another life. But here, he was just another obstacle.
The System's "recommendations" echoed in his mind. Eliminate other units to acquire their resources. No mention of surrender. No rules for prisoners.
Klaus raised his gun. The M1911 was empty. With a thought, he stored it in his inventory and the Winchester shotgun appeared in his hands. The blast was the last sound the sniper would hear.
>> ENEMY RECRUIT ELIMINATED. +50 EXP. <<
The silence that followed was absolute. The battle for the complex was over.
Klaus exited the control room. The arsenal man was now standing, helping his wounded companion to his feet. They looked at Klaus with a mix of gratitude and utter terror.
"The… the loot…" stammered the arsenal man, pointing to the bodies. "It's yours. We… we'll just leave."
Klaus nodded silently. He would not kill them. They were witnesses to his brutal efficiency, and that was a powerful message on its own. They crawled out of the hall, disappearing into the artificial daylight.
Klaus was alone.
He spent the next hour scavenging the bodies and the complex. The loot was substantial. The clan members had accumulated good equipment: more ammo, another ballistic vest in better condition, medical rations, and—the prize—an antiquated assault rifle identified by the System as an STG-44 [UNCOMMON], with a decent amount of ammunition.
But the true treasure lay beyond the cargo hall. The inner doors of the laboratory complex opened for him, revealing clean corridors and rooms full of advanced technology. And in a secure room, he found it—a System Reward Chest.
Inside were three items:
Neural Interface Chip [RARE] – "Increases HUD processing speed and allows passive threat identification."
Cellular Regeneration Potion [RARE] – "Heals non-lethal injuries in minutes."
Data Crystal [LEGENDARY] – "Contains blueprints of advanced technology. Exorbitant value in the Bazaar."
He stored everything, his inventory now weighing a respectable 218 kg. He was armed to the teeth and carried a fortune in rare items.
A final System message appeared.
>> CONGRATULATIONS, RECRUIT. YOU HAVE CONQUERED THE CENTRAL COMPLEX. <<
>> EXTRACTION ZONES AVAILABLE: 1. <<
>> LOCATION: COMPLEX ROOFTOP. <<
>> TUTORIAL ENDS IN 24 HOURS. <<
Klaus climbed to the roof. There, an extraction platform glowed softly, a blue disc of light. It was his exit. His victory.
He looked over the devastated landscape of Necropolis-7. Of the 89, perhaps 20 remained. He had survived. He had triumphed.
But instead of joy, a coldness enveloped him. The man who had entered Necropolis-7 had died on the first day. What would leave was something else. A product of the System. A Collector. A Gravedigger.
He did not feel like a winner. He felt… prepared.
He stepped onto the extraction platform.
>> EXTRACTION CONFIRMED. <<
The world around him blurred, and Klaus was ripped from Necropolis-7, leaving behind the dead, the blood, and the echo of his own gunfire. He carried the weight of his loot and the void of his humanity. The tutorial was over. The real game, he knew, was only beginning.