Superhunt

Chapter 16: “Someone wanted to kill him!”

The woman was dressed in a revealing black leather skirt, her wheat-colored skin almost entirely covered by tattoos. A thorny rose was inked onto her face, making her look dangerous and captivating. The man was bald, his entire scalp adorned with a black snake tattoo. He was burly, his arms thicker than Jonathan's thighs. The man was so large that he took up two seats when he sat at the conference table, the chair groaning beneath him as if it could barely support his weight.

"Damn it, how many times have I said it? Can't we get a bigger chair? I'm about to get wedged in this one," the man complained loudly.

"come on, not everyone has a butt as big as yours," Red retorted.

"My butt is a muscle, and others are fat. Of course, I have a bigger butt with more muscles," the man protested vehemently.

"Enough, Snake Python," the woman with the rose tattoo on her face said impatiently. "Show some refined. Enough with the constant talk about your ass."

"All the chairs in the conference room are this size. If you don't want to sit, squat on the floor."

With an aggrieved expression, the man code-named 'snake Python' slumped in his chair. "Rose, not only are you not helping, you're telling me to shut up... . This chair is really too small, my butt..."

Rose cut him off, "If you mention your butt again, I'll chop it off and feed it to the sharks."

Snake Python quickly shut up, not daring to utter another word.

Rose looked at Fox and Jonathan before turning to Red. "Perhaps you should introduce the new faces."

"Fox, you know," Red said, "and the other one, you also know, no need to mention his old code name. He has a new one; from now on, call him richguy."

Rose's eyebrows furrowed. "Richguy?" She eyed Jonathan thoughtfully, then broke into a smile. "Ah, it's you. With you always hiding your true face, it's a bit difficult to recognize you."

Jonathan gave Rose a cold glance without responding.

Snake Python was getting impatient waiting for the meeting to start, pulled out a cigar, and started to puff away, blowing out a circle of smoke comfortably.

With a flick, Fox lifted his right hand and tossed a ball of water that doused the cigar.

Snake Python was about to explode in anger but seemed to remember something and glanced at Rose. He decided to hold his tongue and sat quietly.

Just then, the door to the conference room opened again, and two men walked in... no, boys.

They were obviously quite young and looked exactly alike - twins. They moved in unison, and their strides matched; even their movement in pulling out the chairs and sitting down was synchronized.

They were very quiet, not greeting or making eye contact with anyone after entering the room, but just sitting there with their heads down, as if immersed in their world.

The last one to enter was a man dressed as a waiter. He pushed the door open, elegantly adjusting his sleeve and bow tie, and sat leisurely, "The bar business is booming tonight; I'm a bit reluctant to leave the counter."

"Stop talking about your little cocktail hobby when discussing business," Red said. "Alright, all four core teams are here; some of you are meeting for the first time. As per tradition, let's introduce ourselves."

The waiter-dressed man led, "My code name is 'Bartender,' Red's partner."

"My code name is 'Rose,' my teammate is that bald man."

"I'm 'snake Python,' not the bald one. Don't get it wrong!"

The identical-looking twins raised their heads.

"I'm 'Crystal,'" said the one on the right.

"I'm 'Meteor,'" the one on the left followed up.

The last to introduce themselves was Jonathan's team.

"My code name is 'Fox.'"

"Richguy," Jonathan simply said.

The Bartender looked at Fox and suggested seriously, "You could consider changing your code name to 'Pretty Boy.' It'd pair well with your teammate, Richguy."

Fox didn't catch the joke immediately.

Snake Python, however, burst into raucous laughter, slapping the table with abandon. Finally understanding the Bartender's joke, Fox quickly retorted, "I refuse; I'm quite satisfied with my code name."

Rose looked at Snake Python, who was laughing uncontrollably, turned to Red, and asked, "Is it too late to request a new partner? He's too noisy."

"No, that won't do. You two have been working together for a year now; it would be a waste to switch partners," Red blew on his nails, "If there are newbies who need training, I can assign one to you."

"Fine," Rose reluctantly agreed.

"That's enough pleasantries and nonsense," Red turned serious, "Let's start the mission briefing."

He tapped the table, and a small round hole opened in the surface, from which a holographic projection device rose.

As the lights shifted, a large map materialized clearly before them. A blinking red dot on the blue representing the ocean caught everyone's attention. A small label above it read "Kraken," and a red dashed line traced its projected course.

"This cargo ship started from the South Pole, stopping at Whalesburg and Leighton. After a month-long voyage, it will enter the waters of Black Sea City on August 11 and unload its cargo here," Red's coquettish face was particularly serious, "The shipping company claims that the ship is loaded with clean energy combustible ice. Still, we all know that's just a cover."

"We must isolate the threat at all costs, preventing them from unloading their cargo in Black Sea City," Red said. "Our informant on the freighter suggests that the Coastal Security Team from the investigation department is highly likely to take over the ship's security before it enters Black Sea City. Blowing up the freighter under their tight security would be unfeasible. Therefore, our best is to target the port. If we blew the port in Black Sea City, the ship would be forced to reroute to another city."

"The port is too large. We need to split up," Rose pointed out, "Only Dock 2 and Dock 5 can accommodate large cargo ships; the others are for smaller vessels. But even if we only destroy those two docks, we still need a huge amount of explosives."

"We don't need to worry about the weapons. The boss will take care of it," Red assured, "Today is July 30. In the next five days, your job is to gather data on the port's infrastructure and send it back to headquarters. The HQ will calculate the positions of the load-bearing columns, and then we can install the bombs on those columns for targeted detonation."

The Bartender mused, "Sounds simple, as if there are only two steps... but both gangs and the investigation department control the port, and they're in a tug-of-war."

"The mission is highly risky," Crystal suddenly spoke, "But we are all Awakened."

"The gangs at the port are nothing; as long as the investigation department doesn't send out any Awakened, we have a chance of completing the mission," Meteor added, "Unfortunately, that's unlikely. Their Awakened aren't for show."

"It's okay, we have richguy." Red smiled at Jonathan, "richguy will keep you updated on the investigation department's movements; you just need to follow his instructions."

"He's a mole? Richguy is an undercover sent by the organization?" Snake Python craned his neck.

"Mind your own business," Rose snapped, irritated. "When will you learn not to pry into matters that don't concern you?"

"No wonder he's wearing a mask..." the Bartender chuckled.

"The mask is a personal preference of richguy and Fox," red neatly deflected, "I didn't say richguy is a mole, nor did I say what the source of our information is. Don't guess what you shouldn't; it might get you into trouble."

What richguy's identity is, whether the information is first-hand or second-hand, whether richguy is a middleman or directly obtains the information, how to track and notify movements—these are not things the organization's members should worry about.

Red had Jonathan wear a mask and use a voice changer, not because the people in the meeting room were untrustworthy, but because if they were captured while on a mission, there was a high probability they would involuntarily leak sensitive information. In such cases, maintaining secrecy about the identity becomes necessary.

As a mole, Jonathan had the highest level of identity secrecy. Other members didn't need to be as cautious, as tonight's meeting was intended to be a "meet and greet" amongst unfamiliar members.

Everyone in the meeting room turned their gaze to Jonathan.

"Richguy is the deputy commander for this operation. If something unexpected happens to me and you can't contact me, follow richguy's arrangements. When it comes to planning and decision-making, richguy is professional."

Jonathan thought to himself, "You really trust me, don't you? Piling all these tasks on me."

He was an outsider who knew nothing about the situation, relying solely on his acting skills and ruminating over the limited intel to get this far.

At this point, Jonathan had no choice but to pretend he had everything under control and said, "In addition to reporting to Red, you'll report to me so I can assess the situation."

"Understood, Deputy Commander," Rose replied with a smile, while the others echoed in agreement, indicating their willingness to follow Jonathan's orders.

Jonathan relaxed a little. So far, his act had been flawless; no one suspected he wasn't who he claimed to be.

He had boldly issued an order for the others to report to him earlier, and Red did not object, nor did the others resist. This indicated that he could be more assertive. As a deputy commander, it was perfectly normal for him to issue directives to the teams.

Jonathan could use the reports from the various teams to supplement his intelligence, gain a deeper understanding of the Mechanical Dawn, and investigate the Kraken.

"Next is the grouping," Red stated, "The Bartender, Crystal, and I, along with the Meteor, will be responsible for data collection and bomb installation at Dock 2. Richguy, Fox, and Rose, Snake Python, will handle dock 5."

"If any of us run into trouble, the other team needs to provide immediate support. This might be the most dangerous mission we've ever undertaken, so be extra careful. Report anything unusual promptly, and share all intelligence obtained."

Fox raised his hand. "This is Plan A, but there's also Plan B. Of course, it would be great if we could complete the mission using Plan A, but we still need to prepare a backup plan."

"Yes, if Plan A goes smoothly, we can detonate the port by August 7, leaving us with an extra three days," Red said, "If things don't go as planned, we use these three days to execute Plan B... Executing Plan B means we have to be prepared to make sacrifices."

Fox replied, "I am always prepared to make sacrifices."

"Don't speak lightly of sacrifices. The organization still needs you," Red looked around the room, "Everyone here is an indispensable talent. You all have powerful super abilities and brilliant minds. You are the core of the organization. Surviving to create more value for the organization and accomplish our great mission — these principles should be engraved in your hearts."

Red placed a hand over his heart, his elaborately made-up face surprisingly solemn. "All for the Dawn."

Everyone echoed in a low voice, "All for the Dawn."

Jonathan, trying to blend in, also repeated the phrase, "All for the Dawn."

But it gave him the creeps.

What kind of cult was this? The brainwashing abilities of the Mechanical Dawn were too strong. Everyone was fiercely loyal eager to devote their lives to the organization. It was unnerving.

If he had the chance, he would leave the Mechanical Dawn. Let whoever wants to stay; he wouldn't.

...

The meeting stretched for over an hour, during which Red displayed current intelligence and dissected every detail of the mission. Jonathan listened with utmost concentration, offering some short, sensible, yet non-committal opinions to maintain his facade of aloof intelligence.

By the time the meeting concluded, Jonathan was covered in a nervous sweat.

The other teams gradually left the conference room. Fox also went to wait outside at Red's request because he had something to discuss with Jonathan separately.

"Boss had me bring you this reader, freshly made just yesterday," Red said, sliding a sleek black device across the table. "Find a way to access the core database of Moss, the AI from the investigation department. Plug this reader into its system, and our organization's virus will embed itself within Moss's database, providing us with a backdoor for gathering intelligence."

"Okay." Jonathan calmly put away the reader, "But it may take some time to complete this task. I don't currently have the opportunity to access the database."

"Right, the Kraken is still our primary objective," Red noted. "Don't be hasty at the investigation department; you're on a long-term infiltration mission."

"I don't need you to remind me, red," Jonathan said, now well-versed in maintaining his disguise. "I know what to do."

Red grins, "You really should change that bad temper of yours. Fine, let's go. Seeing you is starting to annoy me."

Jonathan pushed open the conference room door. Fox dozed against the wall, startled awake and quickly rallying, "Heading home?"

They left the underground bar's negative two floors, reemerging in the lively dance hall. Spotting trays of snacks and fruits, Fox swiped two, muttering, "Our turf anyway, free food."

"Others leave already?" Jonathan scanned the bar's dance floor.

"Yeah, long gone. The Bartender is the person in charge here, so he's still here bussing," Fox gestured.

As soon as Jonathan stepped out of the bar, he couldn't help but take a deep breath. The air inside was stifling: a mix of cigarette smoke, alcohol fumes, perfume, and sweat that made breathing hard.

Fox also took a deep breath of relief, "Almost suffocated by the smell inside."

"Really? I saw you happily eating with your mouth wide open."

They embarked on the journey home.

The rain had lessened considerably and turned into a drizzle. The tiny droplets felt soothing on the face, unlike the furious downpour that would make one want to hide.

Fox led the way, but Jonathan called out to him, "Hold on, let's take a different route home; it's too easy to be tracked."

"Sure... you're the boss," Fox turned down a different street.

"This route will probably take about forty-five minutes to run, the original one takes thirty minutes," Fox said.

"Time and distance don't matter," Jonathan said, "We can't make a mistake."

Fox went to the side of a small building and used his water-controlling ability to leap onto the roof. Jonathan had no footholds to climb, so Fox swung a whip of water around his waist and pulled him up.

The soft and formless water gained a new characteristic in Fox's hands. Like a real whip, the water whip was resilient, making it easy for him to exert force.

Jonathan followed closely behind the fox, exploring this new route. At the same time, he was consciously scanning the surroundings, avoiding windows of buildings and areas illuminated by lights, sneaking around in the dark.

His body was flexible and agile, able to climb using a single hand for leverage, and he could adjust his posture to soften the landing when jumping down from several meters high. He was a hunter of the night, with the city being his hunting ground.

After leaping over several buildings and avoiding surveillance, Fox landed, "From now on, we can walk on the ground."

Jonathan nodded, feeling extremely relaxed with each breath he took. His heart was pounding in his chest, and sweat was pouring out of his body, a satisfying sweat after a strenuous workout.

The meeting with the members of the Mechanical Dawn in the Ruby Bar left him on edge. Now, his mood had calmed, and his thoughts had returned to a state of cool-headedness.

Since Red had entrusted him with the reader and assigned him the task of planting a virus in Moss' system, it was clear that Red harbored no suspicions about him. As for the other members of the organization, aside from Rose, who seemed to recognize him faintly, the rest had a lukewarm response towards him, their interactions like strangers.

For the next few days, the organization's members would be busy with their tasks, and Jonathan wouldn't see Red, significantly reducing his risk of exposure.

Jonathan gradually felt at ease. He slowed his pace and walked along the streets and alleys.

A night stroll was indeed relaxing.

While he was walking, his heart suddenly skipped a beat. An ominous premonition unceremoniously dominated his mind.

Jonathan's heartbeat skyrocketed; his heart rate was even higher than when he was exercising. His inherent talent for danger avoidance was suddenly triggered; his intuition sent him frantic warning signals - the danger was approaching!

In the blink of an eye, Jonathan's body followed his intuitive warning and made a ducking maneuver.

But at the same time, in a blind spot of his vision, a bullet spun out of the barrel of a gun with a silencer installed!

How could a human's speed possibly compare to the speed of a bullet? Before Jonathan completed his evasive move, the bullet hit his forehead!

"Clang!"

When the bullet hit Jonathan, the spider mask on his face shattered, and a clear sound of metal resonated from his head. His enhanced alloy skull had blocked the bullet.

Jonathan was knocked backward by the bullet's momentum, his head buzzing and blood trickling down his forehead. The deformed bullet was lodged in his alloy skull.

Fox reacted instantly, a large water screen erected just in time to intercept a few more bullets shooting toward them. The soft and elastic water screen blocked the bullets and rattled onto the ground.

Jonathan picked up the deformed bullet lodged in the middle of his forehead. Beneath the bullet hole, his silver skull was exposed, gleaming with a metallic sheen.

"Who the hell..." Jonathan seethed with anger.

So close, so very close! If the bullet hadn't hit his head and instead hit his heart, he would have been a fresh corpse by now.

"Someone's trying to kill you!" Fox warned.

"I know." Jonathan wiped the blood from his face, glaring toward where the bullet had come, his teeth grinding in anger. The slight concussion made his vision slightly blurry.

Someone wanted to kill him!

Who wanted him dead?