บท 28: Exceptions
Emmelmond, Soviet Germany.
Beside the tranquil Gotben river, an old sedan was parked, its lone occupant intently surveying an old apartment complex a few meters ahead. The man, sporting thick-framed glasses and a prominent mustache, observed the scene with unwavering focus.
As gentle snowflakes slowly descended from the sky, the man remained inside the car, shielding himself from the cold. Retrieving a flask, he poured a steaming cup of coffee and brought it to his lips, savoring its warm, comforting taste.
Yet, his unwavering attention was on the apartment complex before him. As seconds passed, he continued to sip his coffee, keeping a keen eye on the surroundings. Soon, a figure emerged from the street corner – a mysterious man donning a gray jacket, black hat, and a mask, instantly capturing the man's attention.
The young man in the gray jacket appeared to be in his early twenties. His facial features were mostly concealed by the mask, leaving little to be seen, but despite this, the man wearing glasses squinted his eyes, suspicion evident in his gaze.
The man in the gray jacket walked confidently towards the entrance of the apartment complex, and the man wearing glasses kept his intense gaze fixed on him, closely monitoring his every move as he entered the building.
Whoosh!
With a swift motion, he reached for the radio attached to the car, grabbing the transceiver and bringing it close to his mouth. Pressing a single button on the device, he initiated the call.
After a beep indicating that the call had been connected, he announced firmly, "This is Agent Red."
A momentary silence followed before a voice on the other end instructed, "Agent Red, state your information."
"Target identified. 85% confirmation. Entered the apartment." he relayed through the transceiver. Another brief pause ensued before the voice on the other end responded, "Noted, Agent Red. Good job."
The man placed the transceiver back on the car, leaned back in his seat, and let out a long sigh. After a moment of contemplative silence, he reached for the flask and poured himself another cup of coffee.
A group of men clad in black clothing emerged from different ends of the street, moving discreetly to avoid drawing attention from the civilians. Their pace was swift, just slightly faster than an average pedestrian, as they maintained a safe distance from one another, making sure not to appear as a conspicuous group. Each member had a hand on their ear, keeping their finger on the earpiece, while receiving real-time updates about their target's location.
The group of men, highly trained by GBF to hunt down the world's most dangerous operatives, carried advanced energy guns. They were regarded as some of the finest Hunter terminators in Soviet Germany, skilled and deadly in their pursuit of targets.
Each member had a small micro camera attached to their protective vests, diligently transmitting live video and audio feeds back to their headquarters.
"All agents, this is Q," a man's voice echoed through their earpieces. "Our watcher has confirmed that the target has entered the apartment building. You are clear to enter. Proceed with extreme caution; the target is unlike anything you've ever faced."
Both groups of men, specially trained for the most perilous missions, approached the entrance of the building with deliberate steps. As they reached the threshold, they shared a glance, after which they entered the building simultaneously, moving together as a seamless unit.
-----------------------
Inside a large briefing room, a team of skilled operatives sat behind their computers, their focus locked on the row of monitors that were displaying various live feeds of the task force members. Standing authoritatively behind a transparent glass panel was a distinguished man with a refined gray beard, slicked-back hair, and piercing blue eyes who attentively observed the events unfolding on the large central screen located right in the middle of the room.
The screen showed the agents making their way into the apartment building. However, just as they crossed the threshold, their camera feeds inexplicably froze, leaving the men behind the computers perplexed. A ripple of confusion spread through the room as the analysts exchanged puzzled glances.
"Alright, team, we've lost the feed once again." A slender, young man donning a brown blazer and glasses stood in front of the large display and clapped his hands to gather everyone's attention. "Stay focused and keep your cool. Let's figure out what caused this glitch and fix it, pronto!"
The room buzzed with activity as the men behind the computers quickly got to work, typing away on their keyboards. The man wearing glasses tilted his head, glancing at the glass-covered room above where the man with the beard stood. The bearded man's gaze remained fixated on the large display, his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration.
The man closed his eyes and let out a sigh, after which he retrieved his phone, dialed a number, and brought it to his ear. "Silver Fox," he said as soon as the call connected. "You're up."
A graceful figure moved with unparalleled agility, dashing across the buildings at incredible speed. To an ordinary observer, it would seem as though a fleeting shadow had graced their vision. The mysterious figure came to a swift halt on top of a building adjacent to the apartment complex, revealing themselves to be Silver Fox, the stunning woman with striking silver hair.
With a stoic expression, Silver Fox kneeled on the rooftop, her piercing gaze scanning the area below with unwavering focus, taking in every important detail of the apartment building. In a seamless motion, she stood up, dashing forward with extraordinary speed, and landed on the apartment complex rooftop with absolute silence, as if her feet were feather-light.
Approaching the edge of the roof, she skillfully used her adhesive shoes to find traction on the vertical surface. With complete control over her movements, she descended the six floors of the building's exterior in less than a minute, moving down the wall effortlessly.
-----------------------
Realizing its defeat was imminent, the dreadmaw let out a mournful howl before its body succumbed to the overwhelming heat and power of the flames.
The battle had come to an end.
Isaac stood in the center of the dissipating flames, his breaths heavy and labored. The dungeon was now quiet, except for the crackling of the remaining embers.
With a deep breath, Isaac dispelled the fiery vortex, allowing the flames to die down slowly. With a resolute gaze, he turned his attention to the large gate behind the defeated dreadmaw as it began to open on its own, revealing a mysterious white void beyond.
Turning back to the dungeon one last time, he felt a mix of triumph and exhaustion. Gritting his teeth against the pain from his injured shoulder, Isaac steadily limped towards the gate, feeling the embrace of the white light enveloping him.
Outside of the dungeon entrance, the group of students eagerly awaiting Issac's appearance had swelled into a much larger and curious crowd. Juniors, second-year students, and even other teachers had joined in, all intrigued to witness the potential of the young prodigy firsthand. Some students were placing friendly wagers on whether Issac would succeed in the dungeon challenge, while others exchanged theories and speculations about what they believed Issac's strategy might be.
"Come on, Issac.." Beaver paced back and forth, his nerves getting the best of him. Enrique nervously bit his nails, a habit he couldn't shake in moments of tension. Even Edgar couldn't contain his excitement and anxiety as he eagerly awaited the outcome. Maria's gaze remained fixed on the dungeon entrance, her face serious and her fists clenched tightly.
Professor Mosely's eyes darted back and forth between his phone and the dungeon entrance, his concern evident on his face. He worried about Issac's safety, yet he knew he should trust that the capable helpers he had hired would inform him if the situation required.
Whoosh!
Out of nowhere, the entrance of the cave began to emit a vibrant and mesmerizing purple glow, instantly drawing the attention of everyone present. As they watched in anticipation, Issac materialized from within the luminous aura, his hands firmly clutching his shoulder, and took a few feeble steps forward.
A hushed silence fell over the crowd as all eyes were on Issac, who mustered the strength to raise his fist into the air, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying immense pride and satisfaction. "I did it."
"WOOOOOOAH!"
The entire crowd erupted in cheers, clapping, and excited shouts. Professor Mosely, caught up in the jubilation, approached Issac and couldn't contain his enthusiasm as he patted him on the shoulder, causing him to wince in pain.
"What the hell, kid?" The Professor said with a bright smile on his face, but before he could continue, Issac grasped his shoulder, urging him in a strained voice, "Can you please just get me to a healer first?"
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