Clap! Clap! Clap!
Zaire clapped his hands sharply, attracting the attention of all the children.
Squinting, he asked in a vivid tone, "Kids, do you miss your parents? Do you want to go home?"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"What does 'miss' mean?"
Eleven little heads tilted up, with eyes sparkling on their dirty faces. The children seemed to forget about the game of circling Zaire.
Zaire raised an eyebrow and nodded in satisfaction. "You are all good kids, so the Red Scarf Uncle came to rescue you. Right now, the nice police officers are on their way, and they have lots of chocolate cake in their cars!"
"But only the best-behaved kids get to eat the chocolate cake. Are you good kids?"
Instantly, the children's eyes filled with longing, and they nodded vigorously, babbling their agreement.
Zaire pointed to the warehouse door, maintaining his smile. "I have some things to do, so everyone go to the door and wait for me, okay? Remember, don't leave, or there won't be any chocolate cake. Understand?"
"Understand!"
"Chocolate! Chocolate!"
The children responded in unison, their faces brimming with joy at the thought of sweets.
Before Zaire could say more, the children took each other's hands and formed a line, walking towards the warehouse door in small, eager steps.
"Whew—"
Zaire watched their jubilant departure and couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Handling children was harder than dealing with gang members.
Zaire quickly turned and ran to the spot where the fight had just occurred.
Swoosh!
With a blank expression, Zaire pulled out the long, black military knife, shook off the blood, and then removed all the iron nails from the bodies and heads, stuffing them into his pockets. These homemade blow darts were essential for killing silently. One of the bodies had been strangled, so there was nothing to clean up there.
Zaire thought for a moment and, satisfied there were no loose ends, walked over to a nearby table. Under the bright light, stacks of cash lay invitingly. Without hesitation, he grabbed a black duffel bag from the table and began packing the money.
Consider it the gang's reimbursement for his travel expenses. After all, biking to Brooklyn had been exhausting.
A few minutes later, Zaire, with a duffel bag full of cash, pulled out Sergey's phone. He searched online for several numbers and began making calls.
"Hello, this is the New York Times…"
"There are kidnapped children in sportswear gang's Brooklyn warehouse number 10…"
Zaire deliberately lowered his voice to sound hoarse and gravelly. After receiving confirmation, he hung up and made similar anonymous calls to the Herald and the New York Post, among other media outlets.
His last call was to the police.
Zaire then picked up the heavy duffel bag and headed out.
His intricate plan was necessary because he didn't trust the NYPD, which likely had corrupt officers colluding with criminals. By involving the media, he ensured public scrutiny would protect the children from gang retaliation.
Clank!
Zaire opened the warehouse door to the children's excited cheers. Maybe most of their enthusiasm was for the promised chocolate cake, but as he saw their pure smiles and sincere eyes, his worries melted away.
--------------
At four a.m. in Brooklyn, the sky was overcast, promising a heavy rainstorm.
From a shadowy thicket five hundred meters from warehouse 10, Zaire watched as police cars with flashing lights sped towards the warehouse, feeling relieved.
He looked down at a stone in his palm and smiled. It was the children's reward for him—worthless, yet priceless.
With a final glance at the warehouse, Zaire vanished into the darkness.
Now, it had nothing to do with him.
The Red Scarf was retired.
Citizen Zaire was back.
Passing Brooklyn Bridge, Zaire discarded his knife and stone. Everything else went into the fast-flowing East River—the combat boots, the scarf, the bloody nails, the metal pipe, and the two borrowed phones.
Ideally, his clothes would have been discarded too, but unprepared and not wanting to bike home naked, Zaire decided to deal with them later.
As rain began to fall, Zaire sped home, carrying his duffel bag.
When he carefully opened his apartment door and stepped inside, the rain poured down, hammering against the windows.
"Whew—"
Completely exhausted, Zaire finally relaxed. His aunt's bedroom door was closed, indicating she was still asleep.
Zaire tiptoed across the dim living room, hiding the duffel bag in his room. Then he undressed and headed to the bathroom.
After a few minutes under the hot water, Zaire, drowsy but determined, soaked his clothes in disinfectant to erase any blood traces.
Finally, Zaire collapsed into bed, and within seconds, soft snores echoed through the room, blending with the rain's rhythm.
"…Reset!"
When Zaire awoke again, the familiar sound of the simulator rang in his ears. It was still raining heavily outside, washing away the city's grime.
He checked his phone—11:10 a.m. Though he'd only slept for six hours, he was too restless to fall back asleep.
"…"
Zaire abruptly opened his eyes and activated the simulator.
[Simulation starting—]
[Current identity: Catachan New Recruit.]
[Do you want to descend with this identity? Rejecting will assign a random descent.]
Squinting, Zaire pondered and chose to reject. He needed powerful firearms or other significant advantages… like the twenty-one enhancements of the Astartes!
With the simulator's new resource feature, Zaire needed to become stronger quickly to create a positive feedback loop. Attacking crime organizations was more suitable than robbing military warehouses.
[You have descended into the Warhammer Universe]
[Time: 433.M40]
[Location: Storm Sector · Krieg Planet]
[You set foot on the planet's surface…]
[Before you can observe your surroundings, lethal radiation penetrates every cell in your body.]
[You feel dizzy and have trouble breathing.]
[You are close to death.]
......
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[Your vision becomes blurry, and you see a short figure wearing a strange breathing mask and a brown military waterproof coat. ]
[You feel breathless and try to call for help.]
[A spade hits your head, causing blood to flow.]
[You are on the brink of death once again and fall into unconsciousness.]
[You remain unconscious as you are dragged into an underground tunnel. You've been captured.]
[You miraculously survive.]
[On the first day, you gradually awaken from your coma. Before you can understand your surroundings, a middle-aged man dressed as an officer appears before you.]
[He introduces himself as Colonel Yurten, commander of the 83rd Krieg Regiment. He explains that you, with an unknown identity and mysterious background, appeared on Krieg's death field and were captured by a loyal Krieg soldier.]
[You demonstrate your loyalty to the Emperor and try to explain that everything was arranged by the Emperor. Colonel Yurten believes you.]
[You suddenly realize that during your coma, your injuries have completely healed.]
[You propose to Colonel Yurten that you want to learn more combat skills and survival knowledge. He immediately agrees without hesitation.]
[You hear Colonel Yurten's explanation that nuclear fire has destroyed the planet's surface. The insurrection that swept the planet has been temporarily crushed, but remnants of the rebels still resist fiercely, causing heavy losses among the loyalists.]
["Your joining the Krieg Corps is an honor. To fight for the Emperor, the Krieg Corps will pay any price!" says Colonel Yurten.]
[Confidently, you follow Colonel Yurten out of the detention area.]
[You do not notice the fanaticism and astonishment in Colonel Yurten's eyes.]
[On the second day, in an underground tunnel on the front lines, a Krieg watchman wearing a breathing mask, steel helmet, and a black-green waterproof coat becomes your superior.]
[You try to communicate with him, but he remains silent, leading you to the equipment storage area and motioning for you to choose freely.]
[You notice almost all the equipment is covered in dried blood, but you quickly put on the Krieg soldier's standard gear: steel helmet, breathing mask, military boots, and a black waterproof coat.]
[You carry additional wooden-handle grenades and pick up a Lucius 98-pattern laser gun, which you are very fond of.]
[Your superior hands you a heavy serrated bayonet. You try to ask for a long-handled weapon like a spade, but he remains silent.]
[Fully armed, you follow the watchman into battle against the rebels.]
[The underground firefight is intense and bloody. You stay alert, continuously learning the watchman's combat techniques.]
[You are ambushed, and a lone rebel charges at you. Your laser gun quickly runs out of ammo, turning the rebel into minced meat. You breathe heavily, still shaken.]
[The watchman observes everything. After the brief battle, he or she explains that while the Lucius 98-pattern laser gun is powerful, its battery capacity is low, requiring careful ammo management to maintain combat effectiveness.]
[You realize that the watchman isn't unwilling to talk but is wary of engaging with a mysterious stranger. Killing the rebel proved your loyalty; now, you are comrades.]
[On the third day, you use the heavy serrated bayonet to slit the throats of two rebels in combat. Your impressive performance catches the watchman's attention, and he briefly asks for tips on using knives.]
[On the fourth day, under the watchman's lead, you join his infantry squad. The ten-member team faces arduous tasks as the rebels madly attack the loyalists' underground hive city. Your mission is to halt the enemy's advance and attempt to counterattack.]
[You seem to adapt to the combat style in the underground tunnels, using shadows and numerous wooden-handle grenades to successfully kill a few rebels.]
[During a lull in the battle, you receive a specially found reward from the watchman: a perfectly fitting spade.]
[In the first week, the underground battles become increasingly brutal. The rebels' assaults are relentless, and your squad loses three soldiers. Despite repeatedly asking their names, you never learned them.]
[In the second week, the stench of burnt flesh and laser collisions fills the underground tunnels. You become silent as the rebels use heavy weapons like laser cannons, causing significant losses despite being killed by the recoil.]
[A Krieg soldier who fought alongside you is blown to bits, leaving no trace. Enraged, you pick up a heavy 'Inferno Gun' and charge into the rebel-occupied tunnels, killing many rebels and completing the infantry squad's mission, but you feel only sadness.]
[In the third week, Colonel Yurten hears of your bravery and suggests you join his guard unit for elite combat training and command lessons. You refuse and, despite Colonel Yurten's strong opposition, accept the watchman's recommendation to become a Krieg grenadier.]
[Overwhelmed with grief, you enter a strange state—both mad and calm.]
[You seem to long for death, but with an inexpressible loyalty, you unleash the Emperor's endless wrath on the advancing rebels.]
[This time, you reclaim the rebel-occupied tunnels at the cost of only a few fingers.]
[Your outstanding performance seems to attract the attention of the rebel commander, making your future battles increasingly challenging.]
[In the fourth week, Colonel Yurten personally orders your infantry squad to hold the occupied tunnels with no retreat orders, unless you choose to join his Krieg guard.]
[You try to convince the watchman to disobey orders and leave you to defend alone, but he does not respond, silently leading the remaining two Krieg soldiers to set up dual heavy saw guns and carry more wooden-handle grenades.]
[You fall silent, strapping on the heavy 'Inferno Gun' and spade, taking a Lucius 98-pattern laser gun, and setting traps and mines in the tunnels.]
[The battle for you and the infantry squad begins.]
[The roar of the dual heavy saw guns is deafening, and the laser gun flashes light up the dark tunnels like daylight.]
[However, countless rebels surge like waves. As soon as one wave is defeated, another rushes in.]
[Two Krieg soldiers fall beside you, their unnamed fingers never releasing the laser gun triggers until the batteries are completely drained.]
[As the situation becomes critical, you detonate the mines, the intense blast flinging rebel flesh against your waterproof coat. You notice the watchman, now half a body, continues to pull the trigger of the saw gun until it suddenly stops roaring.]
[The rebels prepare another assault, and tears of blood seem to flow from your eyes behind the breathing mask.]
[Silently, you strap on the 'Inferno Gun's battery and tie wooden-handle grenades all over your body.]
[You retreat a short distance, lying in the shadows, waiting.]
[In a daze, you recall the watchman's occasional muttered prayers.]
["Breathing is war, death is peace. Survival is shame, death is redemption," you mutter.]
[As more rebels flood into the tunnels, you pull the pins on most of the grenades and leap from the shadows.]
[In an instant, your roar echoes through the tunnels!]
["For Krieg… charge!"]
............
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