《Chickenzilla》 Chapter 1 - One Count of Homicide Dr Flynn was desperate. He had to come up with something quickly. If he failed, all his efforts to flee the war in the West¡ªabandoning everything but his nephew and his pet chicken¡ªwould have been for nothing. He paced around his living room, his lab coat flowing behind him. He hastily scrawled frantic calculations and illegible notes into his research log. Striding towards his coffee table, he fell onto the nearby couch. He pulled out a lab sample he had snuck home, a strange irradiated scale from one of the many casualties of Project Draco. Placing it down, he gazed at it intently, hoping it would lead him to some epiphany. He was pulled from his thoughts, as his smartphone began buzzing. His breath grew heavy, he was out of time; his superiors were already trying to call him. He knew twenty years ago that working for a military research organization would be risky. Still, it was the only entry-level job that paid enough to support him and his nephew, and for a refugee, that was enough. However, he had risen up the ranks and became a prominent figure. This meant that when the project he had proposed to counter the Evalsky Kingdom¡¯s dragon fleet had begun to go over its budget, with little to show for it, his time began running out. Bioengineering was an underdeveloped field, and after enough time, the higher-ups were less than pleased that so much funding was going to a project they deemed a failure, it was inevitable that this was going to happen. Despite the goodwill and credibility he had built over twenty years, the military didn¡¯t like those with confidential knowledge, and they didn¡¯t let them roam free. After all, keeping such figures alive was an unnecessary risk, regardless of their utility. He had hoped to buy time by claiming he had made a serious breakthrough, and he hoped the pressure would allow him to come up with something. But he had failed. He pulled out a prototype for an improved laser pistol he had stolen, raising it to his forehead. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± His voice was shaking, ¡°I failed you, Alex, I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m a worthless uncle.¡± He looked down beside him, seeing Clucky, his chicken had entered the room. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Clucky. You¡¯ve been with me this whole time too. I¡¯m especially sorry to you Diana, you begged me to live for you, to keep your son safe. I failed. I¡¯m such a shitty younger brother.¡± He closed his tear-filled eyes and pulled the trigger. Almost instantly, without a sound, there was a clean hole straight through his skull. The heat from the laser instantly cauterized the hole through his brain, and as his last thoughts passed, his head slammed onto the TV remote on the coffee table. The TV blared to life, and the lab sample clattered off the table, onto the floor. ¡°Tensions between the Evalsky Kingdom and Tisone are growing! The Pope of the Demonic Church has urged King Arthur Evalsky to join the Fantasia Pact! What could this mean for the Brimstone trade and energy prices? Tune in later this evening as we meet with a financial expert! In other news, the Poultry Corp stock prices have soared as their-¡± The noise of the news report filled the hollow silence of the room. Clucky looked up at his owner, he wandered closer, pecking at his leg, trying to get him to respond. He pecked, and pecked, relentlessly, but his dear friend did not move. He wandered, finding the scale on the floor, swallowing it in one gulp. Pain filled the chicken¡¯s body as a green light began emanating from his stomach. In a rage, it writhed, flinging itself around the apartment, until it flew out a partially opened window, out into the city. ¡ª¡ª¡ª It was a busy day at Poultry Corp. Business was booming, and the office was bustling. The year was nearing its end, and some new interns were hired to help out around the office. Sarah entered the spacious office, brushing her black hair out of her eyes, and scanning her new ID card. It was her first, and last, day as an intern there. ¡°Ah, you must be one of the new hires! Names David, the regional manager. Your first day can be a bit confusing, why don¡¯t you join me for some drinks later today? To help you get acquainted with the place, it can be difficult for women to work their way up the corporate ladder, I¡¯ll help you along the fast track in exchange for some, well, favors,¡± he handed her a business card and walked off with a slight smirk. ¡°You should probably report him to HR. I think he¡¯s only like, one report away from being fired? People say he only got the job cause of family connections.¡± ¡°And who are you?¡± she tried hard to remain professional. Sarah eyed the lanky man. He had slightly long blonde hair and blue eyes, his clothing was relaxed but still professional, and he had a soft air of confidence to him. ¡°Ah, sorry, I¡¯m Will. Another intern here. I¡¯ve worked here for a year or so. The pay raises are kinda meh, but the workload is pretty light. If you¡¯ve got any questions, you can ask me, or my buddy Aaron over there, he¡¯s been working here a while. Well, nice meeting you,¡± he squinted at her name tag, ¡°Kayla?¡± ¡°Call me Sarah. And thanks for the advice.¡± Will nodded, a little confused, before returning to his work. Sarah cursed HQ internally. She had told them plenty of times that she preferred her fake identities to at least use her real first name. Well, that¡¯s just how the Evil Shadow Organization was. She retreated to a more isolated nook and dug through her pockets. She finally found the picture she was given of her target. Before she looked at it, she prayed it was that Dave guy, she really wanted to kill him. Staring at it, she sighed in disappointment, it was just some generic-looking executive. Well, she could always go kill Dave later, although Evan might get annoyed. The life of an assassin was always pretty fun, after all, there were always plenty of people to kill. ¡ª¡ª¡ª Alex Flynn loitered in front of the door to his uncle¡¯s apartment. Since it was almost a new year, Tisone National College decided to give the students some time off, which he was grateful for. His uncle, however, would likely not enjoy an unannounced visit. He sighed, debating whether to go through with it. While he and his uncle were close, his uncle was a private and awkward man. Alex knew little about what he actually did, besides the fact he worked for the Tisone Research Company.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. After some hesitation, Alex decided to just go through with it, he drove all the way there, no point in leaving now. He knocked on the door, waiting for a response. He could hear the TV, some news report was on, which was odd. His uncle wasn¡¯t one to watch the news. He knocked again, calling out ¡°Uncle Cal? It¡¯s me, Alex. I decided to visit, and yes, I¡¯m sorry for not calling in advance.¡± After more silence, he sighed, sorting through his keychain to find the emergency key his uncle had given him. The damn old man sure liked to isolate himself. Still, he was looking forward to seeing him for the first time in a year. As he opened the door, he noted how silent it was. Normally his uncle would have complained about having such a nosy nephew. He slowly stepped in, finally entering the living room, and it was then that he saw it. His uncle was slumped over, his head on the coffee table, there was a clean hole straight through his skull. The TV droned on, and Alex quickly grabbed the remote, shutting it off. He stood stunned staring at his uncle¡¯s corpse. There was no way. Why would his uncle kill himself? Why? That one word flooded his mind. Was it because of him? Was it because he hadn¡¯t visited enough? Was it because he visited too much? Was he lonely? Was he depressed? Did he miss the West? Was he tired? Did he blame himself for what happened to the rest of their family? Why? Alex breathed in and out rapidly, struggling to steady his breath. He looked at the sight before him, his uncle dead, with a laser pistol in his hand, a weapon that was the farthest from legal a weapon could conceivably be. He saw a leather-bound book, and he grabbed the book, flipping through it, trying to see if there was some message, some reason for this madness. His vision started going out of focus as he rushed through. In the final filled-out pages, he found calculations and frantic scribbles relating to something called ¡°Project Draco.¡± There were ramblings about the TRO, he couldn¡¯t understand what it meant. He had no clue what ¡°Project Draco¡± was. He didn¡¯t know what was going on in the TRO. He then noticed Clucky was gone too. Was he dead too? Was all of his family dead now? What did he escape the war for? To watch his family die all over again? He wanted to run. He wanted to hide, cower, and cry. He felt like his limbs were made of ice. Finally, he managed to melt the frost in his nerves, and he bolted. He fled the apartment in a blur, managing to vaguely register the clerk asking if he was alright before he disappeared into an alley. He slunk into the darkness, crying. He was one horrible nephew. ¡ª¡ª¡ª An older man in an expensive suit sauntered into the apartment. His posture was rigid, his movements calculated, and his face stern and cold. He straightened his tie, and went straight to apartment 871, finding the door half open. He entered, spotting Cal Flynn''s corpse. Whatever breakthrough he claimed to have made, was not one he wanted to share with the Tisone Research Company. He climbed onto the sofa, pushing the corpse aside, as he reached toward the ceiling fan. He unscrewed the outer glass casing for the light, pulling out the hidden camera and destroying it. The TRC was a military agency, albeit secretly. They kept tabs on their workers, but a dead man needed no observation. Flynn was an honest man, and he was someone capable of making a breakthrough that was dangerous on an international scale. He had managed to get an entire project, with hundreds of millions in funding, approved by the majority of the higher-ups after all. He was smart. He was also a refugee, he knew the cost of war. It was dangerous if he didn¡¯t want the TRC to get their hands on it. There was no other reason for a loyal lapdog like him to betray them so earnestly. The recordings showed him writing something down in his research log. It was likely the key to finishing Project Draco, the breakthrough he had made. Based on the same footage, that research log was now in the hands of Alex Flynn, and based on his final words, and Alex¡¯s timely arrival, there was a good chance he left a message for his nephew, knowing he would come. The man looked around, noting the details of the scene. He pulled out his phone, and called up one of his associates, explaining the situation, and giving them the plan he had made to rectify it. Alex Flynn would not escape his grasp. He and his uncle tried to run away, and the TRC always caught runaways. ¡ª¡ª¡ª Alex wiped the last tears from his reddened eyes. His senses were returning, albeit quite dulled. He realized he should probably call the police. His uncle was dead, a report had to be made. He already waited a while, almost an hour? He could get in serious trouble. He slowly stood up, stretching his numb limbs as he prepared to move. He pulled out his phone as he began walking out of the alley, dialing 811. The operator spoke quickly. ¡°Hello, this is 811, what¡¯s the emergency?¡± ¡°My uncle, he took his own life. Uh, I¡¯m Alex Flynn, my uncle lives at the Brooksville apartment, in apartment 871.¡± There was an odd pause from the operator. ¡°Alex Flynn? Can you give me your exact location right now?¡± ¡°Uh, sure? I¡¯m near the apartment complex, in this one alleyway.¡± ¡°Please wait, officers will meet you there shortly, I¡¯m very sorry about your uncle, we¡¯ll deal with this quickly.¡± The operator hung up. Alex felt uneasy. Something just felt off, like he was missing something. He noticed his phone had an alert he hadn¡¯t seen. ¡°DANGEROUS CRIMINAL: Alex Flynn, wanted for the murder of his uncle was last seen in your area! If you see him or have any relevant information, please call the following hotline-¡± He stopped reading. Below the alert was his ID photo. He killed his uncle? Why was he accused? More importantly, why was he practically ¡®wanted¡¯? Normally you needed serious evidence to be marked as such. He began to hyperventilate. Would they listen to him if he explained? What was going to happen to him? Surely there couldn¡¯t be damning evidence for a crime he didn¡¯t commit. The more he thought about it, the more he began to question things, his analytical mind kicking in, he did follow in his uncle¡¯s footsteps after all. He began to wonder what the TRO actually did, what if they had something to do with this? His thoughts spiraled as he wondered what was going on. His instincts told him to run, the police knew where he was, and if his speculations were right, he would be far from safe in police custody. He bolted, dashing through the crowded streets, trying to keep his head down. His mind raced considering what he should do, and where he should go. He spotted some officers, looking around, nearing the alley he had just left. He tried to sneak off into another alleyway. However, one of the officers spotted him, quickly alerting his comrades. He had a feeling that if they caught him now, he was no better than a dead man. He sprinted, dodging people left and right, weaving through the crowd. One of the officers started unloading a couple of bullets, causing chaos in the crowded area. One shouted out into the crowd; ¡°If you¡¯re a civilian, run! There is a wanted criminal here, this is a dangerous area!¡± More officers began to open fire, forcing Alex to be more mindful. He tried to find cover, running even as his lungs felt like they would collapse. He was not athletic, but adrenaline had given him an edge in this race for his life. Alex stared ahead at a wall. Mindlessly running and dodging had led him into a dead end. There was no escape, it seemed. The police approached closer, but suddenly a black and purple blur shot down from the rooftops, passing through the officers. In an instant, all of the officers'' heads flew off, blood splattering across the alleyway. Their bodies flopped to the ground like fish. ¡°Well, shit. This is going to be such a pain to deal with. I was already behind schedule with killing the target, they are not gonna be happy about this.¡± Standing before Alex was a woman with messy, long dark hair, wearing a black cloak. She was covered in blood and wielded a short black sword painted in red. Her face had a nonchalant annoyance etched onto it. ¡°So, what exactly did you do to get into such a pickle? Kill a family? Steal a loaf of bread for your sick little brother?¡± She looked down, shaking off some of the blood, ¡°This blood¡¯s gonna be a pain to wash off, do you know how hard it is to get rid of blood stains?¡± Alex stared at her stunned. ¡°You¨C You killed all of those officers in an instant.¡± ¡°Well, duh? When you work for the Evil Shadow Org, you gotta at least be that strong, it¡¯s pretty easy once you can use mana. But you didn¡¯t answer my question, twerp. The hell¡¯d you do? And answer properly, I got a sword here.¡± ¡°I¨C I did nothing! My uncle killed himself today, and suddenly I¡¯m a fugitive, and they¡¯re saying I killed him. I think there might be some kind of foul play? I honestly don¡¯t know what to do anymore. . .¡± Concern flashed briefly across her face, but it quickly faded back into that nonchalant annoyance. It was then that Alex finished processing some of her earlier words. ¡°Wait, Evil Shadow Org? You work for the notorious¨C You know what, I can¡¯t even be shocked anymore. I think I¡¯m just outta it at this point. So, are you gonna kill me now, ¡®no witnesses¡¯ and all that?¡± ¡°Nah, I think I found something fun. I can tell you weren¡¯t lying¨C and it takes serious evidence for someone to become wanted in Tisone. Something¡¯s fishy here. HQ¡¯s gonna be pissed, but I think this is gonna be much more fun than killing another old rich guy. Hell, I¡¯ll probably get to kill plenty of people. I think I¡¯ll help you investigate this ¡®foul play¡¯. The name¡¯s Sarah.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Alex.¡± He sighed. He didn¡¯t have a choice, he saw what she was capable of. What the hell had he gotten himself into? Chapter 2 - Always Some Scheme . . . It had only three sensations left: rage, hunger, and pain. The warehouse it found to hide in was dark and isolated. Rats scurried across the concrete, and it lunged in hunger, its beak quickly tearing apart a rodent into smaller more easily consumed bits. Unfortunately, much of the rat was inedible for it, but that didn¡¯t mean the rest would go to waste. It slinked away, observing the leftovers lying in an open space. It could see through the dark with little to no effort now, so when a stray black cat approached the remains, the bird jumped. Its hunger was sated, but not for long. It turned, looking right at a second cat, its fur bright orange, slinking away. A green glow emanated through its body as its body convulsed in burning pain. Its anger burned, its bones cracking and shifting, growing. The pain stopped, but with its end, came hunger. It leaped, grabbing the cat with its talons, an easy feat, as the former chicken was now the size of a mastiff. It screeched as it began tearing into its prey. As it finished, it convulsed again, but by then the pain was so great that its brain couldn¡¯t even process it. It now had only two sensations left: rage, and hunger. ¡ª¡ª¡ª William Ether had come to a rather simple realization: he was fucked. It started calm, he had a relatively normal day at work, the only oddity being the new intern. After a couple grueling hours of underpaid labor, Will was ready for the only good part of his workday: the lunch break. As he left, he saw that weird girl run off somewhere frantically, and at first, he trailed behind out of concern. Dave¡¯s behavior from earlier was still on his mind, and although Dave had yet to cross any boundaries, he didn¡¯t know if that would stay the case. The concern left his mind the moment she began leaping across the rooftops at incredible speeds. He walked in the opposite direction, deciding that whatever that was, it wasn¡¯t going to become his problem. Deciding to go grab some fast food for a quick meal, he reluctantly stopped by Poultry Pals and grabbed some fried chicken. He almost laughed, thinking about how he was buying from a subsidiary of Poultry Corp using his Poultry Corp paycheck. As he exited, carrying a bag with his food, he noticed an alert on his phone. It was a Ruby Alert, some ¡°Alex Flynn¡± guy around his age was wanted for the murder of his uncle. He read through the details provided and paused. He had a hotline, was marked ¡°Armed and dangerous,¡± but it just didn¡¯t add up. Normally hotlines were only set up for criminals the police couldn¡¯t catch for a long time, and if he had truly evaded capture repeatedly, there would be talk of it in the news. Either they hid this case from the press, or something was going on here. The vibe he felt from the alert was one he had not felt in a long while. It seemed not much had changed among the police of the nation since then. All it took to define justice was enough money and power, after all. He tried to dismiss the thought, regardless of the truth, he couldn¡¯t dwell in the past. He had managed to scrape out a life for himself. He was fed, clothed, and had shelter. For better or worse he was alive. If he wanted to stay that way, he knew he¡¯d have to feign ignorance and continue onward. He walked through the bustling city but found the path he usually took back to the office was blocked. Sighing, he plotted a new route and continued. He came to a bend in the road, finding it to be sparsely populated, and suddenly he saw people rushing away. He stood stunned for a moment, as he heard gunshots ringing out from an alley. He ducked for cover outside the alleyway. A loud slash followed by splattering, and a fleshy clattering of small objects falling to the ground echoed out of the alley. He heard a familiar voice- the voice of the new recruit from earlier that day. He peeked into the alleyway, spotting the corpses of many police officers, all of them familiar to him. He almost laughed, it seemed karma was a real force in the world after all. He had no sympathy for that squad. The girl from earlier stood, her clothes speckled with bloodstains, standing next to her was the guy pictured in the alert, frozen in fear, trembling slightly. He heard enough of the ensuing conversation to understand that he had to run, and fast if he wanted to keep his body in one piece. He was far from stealthy and had chosen a rather bad hiding spot, so he was left just questioning how to go about it. Finally, he decided to just move. Slowly, he took a step. Then another, and another. He was home free at this rate! ¡°And where do you think you¡¯re going?¡± Life wasn¡¯t that easy. It seemed this was how the curtains would close for him: outside an alleyway, holding a bag of cheap fried chicken. He stepped out in front of the alleyway, holding his hands up in surrender, releasing the plastic bag from his grip and onto the ground. ¡°Well, preferably home? Otherwise, probably heaven.¡± He paused, deep in thought, before continuing: ¡°I¡¯d settle for hell.¡± ¡°Not the police station to report a crime?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s relevant to me.¡± She seemed taken aback for a moment, then spouted out the first words that came to mind, while swinging her sword around wildly. ¡°I don¡¯t see how letting you live is relevant to me!¡± This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. ¡°Well, if I¡¯m going to die, can I at least have my lunch?¡± he said without missing a beat. ¡°I didn¡¯t even get to open it.¡± He slowly reached for the plastic bag, not even waiting for an answer, when a knife cloaked in a shadowy aura flew forward, causing him to instinctively withdraw his hand. ¡°For all I know you have some weapons in that bag. Y¡¯know what? Leave the bag behind, and I¡¯ll let you run off. I don¡¯t want to dull my sword anymore, it¡¯s a pain to sharpen.¡± Will wondered if the offer was genuine, or a way to slice him down when he was distracted. The thought was interrupted by yelling and the noise of police sirens. ¡°Shit. Well, looks like they called in some backup. I¡¯ve said too much, unfortunately, you are now a part of this.¡° She grabbed Will by his shirt in one hand and Alex in the other, and leaped onto the rooftops, and began speeding through the city. Will felt the wind blasting his face, and his legs limp in the air, as he was slingshotted across the skyline. He began thinking about everything that had just happened, and a couple of questions came to mind. Why didn''t she just kill him if he had information she didn¡¯t want getting out? Hell, why didn¡¯t she just kill the police after them now? She could probably fight them and win. It was like she was avoiding killing, which was interesting considering her earlier behavior. His thoughts drifted to the whole action sequence playing out around him, that guy from the alert was a part of this. The feeling from that day came back to him. Whatever this conflict was, it might be related to the one he had tried so hard to let go of. In the end, it had become his problem all over again, and he was almost happy about it. His risk free, watered down, and safe life was over. To put it simply, he was fucked. ¡ª¡ª¡ª The TRC was run by a board of directors, and government officials who gave approval for certain projects. It had started as a research organization, but management shifted its research to some rather deadly subjects, and soon, they struck a deal with the government, becoming a government contractor. Of course, such status gave it some sway over the law, a sway it often needed to get results. Using this power, it was able to do research that was far from legal within the country, and even internationally. The kind of business the TRC had a natural tendency to have leaks of confidential info, and whistleblowers. But a ruined reputation would damage the stock price, and interfere with business. That was where he came in. It was his job to clog the leaks, and exterminate the rats. And using the power of the TRC, he could do so easily, police, federal agents, to a slight extent even the military, he could use them all. There was a reason the TRC had remained completely innocuous for his 24 years of service. He fixed up his suit, as he stared at the security footage the police had presented him. It seemed that this wouldn¡¯t be an open and shut case. A skilled magic user had become mixed up in this, likely from the Evil Shadow Organization considering their speed, shadow magic, and lethality. Some bystander also appeared to have been taken hostage. There were going to be a lot of loose threads to tie off by the end of this. He began plotting, he would have to find a way to get rid of the hostage, and decided to kill him off in a police encounter, an ¡°unfortunate casualty¡± to the media. Dealing with the ESO was a different challenge. One on hand, he could publicize it to potentially force them to back off, however that could backfire, especially if the Scientific Order stepped in. The TRC had power within Tisone, not internationally, and the TRC did not want attention drawn to it. This was a tricky situation, he didn¡¯t know what the ESO wanted. He decided to set traps, he would have to deal with their agent with his own strategy. He had to prevent them from leaving the capital, so he would have to mobilize some heavy duty task forces. He needed to overwhelm them and force them to stay on the move. Then, at their lowest, he would give them false calm, draw them out, and crush them in one blow. He was a hunter, and he knew the only way to hunt was ruthlessly. ¡ª¡ª¡ª Evan Von Il sat on a throne of twisted blackened steel in the center of the Evil Shadow Organization. He had an upcoming meeting, and the room was prepped. He was waiting on his assistant Krone for updates on Sarah¡¯s latest mission. He sighed; knowing her, she had likely gone off track somehow. Still, she was the person he trusted the most, and was reliable when it truly mattered. ¡°Sir, I have an update on Ms. Knarr¡¯s mission,¡± the voice was snivelly and arrogant. ¡°Krone. What happened? Did you bring my tea?¡± ¡°It seems she ended up making a public spectacle, we managed to get some footage, and the intelligence team gathered a file on relevant characters.¡± He set down a saucer with a cup of tea, a slice of lemon, and some sugar cubes onto the table, along with a CD and a folder. Evan mixed in some sugar, and sipped down on his tea. ¡°It¡¯s a different blend than usual. Tastes a little odd. Well, let me have a look at this footage then.¡± Krone wheeled out a projector, and set the CD into it, before hooking the projector up to a strange assembly of wires leading into a bright blue crystal. The Western half of Contras relied on Arcanotech and magic over electrical technology, so strange workarounds had to be made. After a bit of silent observation, the CD had nothing left on it, and the projection stopped. ¡°As you saw, she was reckless as always, causing unnecessary noise and going far off track from her mission.¡± Evan turned coldly, darkness seemed to gather around him. ¡°Krone. Let me tell you something. I care little for your personal thoughts on matters. There is only one person I trust the opinion of, and it is not you. Now leave, before you utter anything else unnecessary.¡± Krone bowed, and then walked out calmly, appearing to have no reaction. Evan was lost in thought. He decided to look through the folder, and was met with a pleasant surprise. As always, Sarah had contributed something great, and once more it was likely unintentional. It seemed she had gotten distracted from her mission after seeing some cops who were on his personal list of targets. This led her to save a boy who was wanted for the murder of a family member who worked for the TRC. This was a perfect coincidence, as Evan had wanted an in for information about the TRC for a long while, or some gauge of their influence and power. He had heard rumors of Poultry Corp and some external force working together to take over the TRC, which was suspicious. Was a research company really that important? The rumors of government involvement spurred his suspicions. More importantly, what kind of external force would Poultry Corp work with? He could only think of a few, and all of them led back to a Devil. The TRC could open the way for the defeat of a Devil, and that would truly change things. He was asking much of Sarah, and that he regretted. But if he could rid the world of the Devils, and achieve his end goal, then he would finally be able to pay her back in full for all the suffering he had wrought upon her because of his selfishness. Soon, he would be the greatest evil in history.