ã€ŠVenetian Red: The Exiled Kingã€‹


 Chapter 1: Prepare for Day of Judgment

    The sun baked the cracked desert. A man in a dark cloak and worn armor, Wanderer, stood silently, focused on a distant bunker. ¡°I always wanted to be the Messiah¡¯s army,¡± he murmured. ¡°But it¡¯s too late.¡±

    Lost in thought, he walked, unaware of the sand creature that approached. His hand went to his silver pistol. A mutated mole, green bubbles glistening on its head. Wanderer aimed. The mole vanished into the sand. A smile touched his lips beneath his mask.

    He looked at the pistol, a two-century-old relic from the time the Messiah quelled the Dajjal¡¯s chaos. He sighed, holstering it, remembering the golden age¡ªforty years on Earth. Now, descendants fended for themselves on endless conflict. It seems like the final apocalypse is just around the corner

    Wanderer gazed at the bunker on the horizon. ¡°I hope Gott grants us another great leader,¡± he whispered,

    he whispered. The wind carried a faint, unsettling odor ¨C something acrid and faintly sweet ¨C as he neared the bunker. He passed a crude pile of skulls, partially buried by drifting sand. A few splintered bone weapons poked out from the base. Even half-buried, the deformities were visible: a jutting horn here, an extra eye socket there

    A long line of immigrants waited at the bunker gates, watched over by a guard in a tower behind a barbed-wire fence. there are trucks and frankenstains car with match up body spare part.some is had a solar panels for charging. in distance background a line of dust kicking when two racer with sand buggy car trying outpace each other.

    As Wanderer reached the line, he saw a mix of faces¡ªsome excited, some holding their children in their arms. Some wore cybernetic limbs and eyes; some looked like typical bums. It was a place for people who wanted a better future, or were simply crazy. Wanderer joined the line, silently trying to blend in. He wasn¡¯t looking for this kind of attention. The guard, a hulking figure in worn composite plating, shouldered his way through the press of people, ¡°Make way for the Wanderer!¡± he bellowed, his voice echoing off the bunker¡¯s outer walls. A surge of movement rippled through the crowd as they parted, creating a narrow path

    A woman with tired eyes clutched a baby. ¡°Please,¡± she whispered, her voice cracking. ¡°We just need a chance.¡± A man with a cybernetic arm pushed forward. ¡°I¡¯m tired of the caliphate!Take me! I can fight!¡± Wanderer sighed, a hand going to his forehead,

    ¡°I¡¯d die for you!¡± someone yelled. Wanderer turned, lowered his mask, gave a quick smile in the general direction of the voice, then turned back.

    He continued towards the airlock, the heavy metal door looming ahead. As he approached, a scanner whirred to life, its red light sweeping over him, a scanner whirred to life. ¡°Lavender, please,¡± he requested. A holographic display flickered on, confirming his bio-signature and account balance: "Lavender package, premium, 12 credits." The automated system hissed, spraying him with disinfectant and a mist of lavender-scented oil¡ªa small, premium comfort in the harsh wasteland.

    <h2>Part 2</h2>

    The airlock door hissed open, revealing a dimly lit corridor that led deeper into the bunker complex. The scent of lavender lingered briefly before being overtaken by the cloying mix of sweat, recycled air, and a faint undercurrent of incense. Wanderer followed the worn signs etched into the metal walls,

    The corridor opened into a larger, more crowded space, Iron Hold was a cramped, underground warren. Machinery hummed, voices murmured. It was essentially a mall for survival services¡ªpower, air, and waste disposal¡ªcrammed together and operated by various companies.

    Furqan, a man with a white mask covering the lower half of his face, stood near the entrance to a more restricted area, scanning a newcomer with a handheld device, checking for radiation. Finding none, he offered a terse greeting. "You done with your me time and Ready for the mission?"

    Wanderer, a man with a black mask, removed it, revealing a rugged face framed by a long, wavy beard and narrow eyes. "As ready as ever," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "By the way, are you okay?"

    Furqan paused, surprised by Wanderer''s concern. He removed his own mask, revealing a Middle Eastern face with a hooked nose. "I''m fine, just tired," he admitted gruffly. "Why? You think I look that bad?"

    ¡°yeah¡±

    Furqan''s expression softened slightly. "You pick up on that, huh? Yeah, I''ve got something on my mind," he confessed. "It''s nothing serious, just some old demons."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "So, you just brush it off? Like nothing happened?"

    Furqan shrugged. "What do you want me to do, break down and cry? I''m a warrior, not a damn therapist patient."

    Wanderer chuckled. "Good, good boy. Let''s see our new crew. I wonder what kind of lost souls have flocked to our company."

    Furqan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, real ''good boy'' here. And yeah, I''m curious about our new crew as well. Hopefully, they''re not too much of a pain in the ass to deal with."

    Together, they walked deeper into the bunker, passing through narrow corridors. The air grew thicker with stale sweat and unwashed bodies. They saw a motley assortment of immigrants who had sought refuge in Ironhold. Some slept, weariness etched on their faces, while others played cards or chess.

    They reached a larger chamber, a makeshift barracks where the new recruits were gathered. A diverse group¡ªyoung and eager, scarred veterans¡ªfilled the room. Wanderer and Furqan surveyed the crowd.

    "New meat," Wanderer muttered.

    Furqan''s eyes wandered over the various recruits. "They look a lot different from our usual crew," he said quietly. "Not sure if that''s a good thing or a bad thing."

    Wanderer shrugged. "What do you expect? They flock to us for money, film, and cheap entertainment...well most of them."

    Furqan let out a huff of disgust. "Yeah, figures. Most mercenaries are just in it for the worldly desire, not like us."

    Wanderer nodded. "Good." He then rubbed his forehead and looked down at the paper listing the recruits. "So, where is Shizuka? She should help me with the recruitment progress."

    Furqan glanced around the room, looking for Shizuka. "I haven''t seen her yet. She probably got caught up doing something," he replied. The duo continued to scan the room, searching for any sign of the mysterious young woman.

    Wanderer sighed. "Alright, forget it. Let Chrome do it instead."

    Furqan raised an eyebrow at Wanderer''s suggestion. "Chrome? You sure about that? He can be a bit... unpredictable."

    Wanderer tapped his chin. "We have limited time, and we need to filter these people fast. Chrome is the best man for it; he has a good eye for picking out who''s worth it and who''s not."

    Furqan chuckled. "Alright, fair enough. If you say so. Just don''t be surprised if we end up with some... colorful characters on our crew."

    Wanderer smiled. "I love diversity. They bring new jokes."

    Furqan chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, I guess you''re right. They might even bring some interesting skills to the table. But don''t forget, we gotta keep them in line. Can''t have them causing trouble."You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Wanderer then put a finger on his right forehead, activating the real-time psyche to contact Chrome. After a brief moment, The door burst open, revealing Chrome¡ªlong hair, fair skin crisscrossed with scars. ''Attention here, you scum! You wanna be a warrior? Then come face me!''"

    The recruits turned their attention to Chrome as he made his grandiose entrance. Some looked amused, others wary. Furqan and Wanderer exchanged a quick glance before looking back at Chrome.

    Recruits formed two lines, one snaking towards Wanderer''s methodical scrutiny of backgrounds. Meanwhile,Chrome leaned back in his chair, his feet propped casually on the table. "So," he began, addressing the recruit, "you want to be a warrior? Why? For glory? Riches? Or¡­ to become a god?"

    The recruit stammered, clearly taken aback by the unexpected question. "Uh, well, sir, I just¡­ need the money."

    Chrome snorted derisively. "Money? That''s small thinking. Nobunaga didn''t conquer for coins. He burned down temples! What''s your temple? What are you willing to burn?"

    The recruit, now visibly terrified, could only manage, "I¡­ I don''t have a temple, sir."

    Chrome grinned. "Then find one. Or become one." With a dismissive wave of his hand, he signaled the recruit to move on.

    The next recruit nervously approached the chair. Chrome leaned in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Imagine this: I give you power. Riches. Women. But to get it, you must betray your best friend. Do you do it?"

    The recruit paused, considering the proposition with a furrowed brow. "It depends on the friend, sir."

    Chrome¡¯s fist slammed onto the table, the sudden violence of the action making the recruit jump. "Wrong answer!" he roared. "There is only one true loyalty: to me! We don''t tolerate traitors! Get out."

    The recruit simply shrugged, a gesture of indifference, and rose from the chair, making way for the next in line.

    Chrome, without missing a beat, pointed to a random spot on the wall. "What color is that?"

    "Uh¡­ grey, sir?" the recruit responded, a note of confusion in his voice.

    Chrome drew his sword slightly, the metallic shink echoing in the confined space. "Wrong. It''s the color of your failure. Next."

    Chrome wasn''t just recruiting warriors; he was conducting a brutal, impromptu judgment, separating the wheat from the chaff, the survivors from the doomed, Meanwhile Furqan watched. He rolled his eyes at Chrome¡¯s methods. He looked at Wanderer¡¯s more thoughtful approach. whose gaze was steady and calculating as he interviewed his own line of recruits.

    The difference was clear: one sought warriors through calculated assessment, a examination of their past and potential. The other, Chrome, sought something else entirely ¨C a raw, untamed spark, a willingness to submit to his authority, a desperate hunger for survival. Two different forms of judgment, two different paths to the same goal.

    After an hour, Furqan glanced at the recruits chosen by Wanderer, many of whom were more experienced and had impressive backgrounds. Meanwhile, the ones chosen by Chrome were more mixed; some were strong or skilled in different ways, but many were rather questionable,

    Another hour passed, and the hall now became a quieter place as many of them started to leave. "Good, we now have 72 men and 3 women. It''s a good number," Wanderer said, smiling at the paper. But after a while, his smile turned into a frown.

    Furqan noticed Wanderer''s change of expression and raised an eyebrow. "What''s wrong? We got a good number of recruits, right?"

    Wanderer nodded. "Yes, I hope... we have more reasonable missions next. So many people die for silly things sometimes."

    Furqan nodded in agreement, a slight grimace on his face. "Yeah, I know what you mean. We''ve been through a lot. And yeah, I hope so too."

    Wanderer turned to Chrome and ask. "What do you think, man?"

    Chrome looked up at Wanderer, a cocky smirk playing on his face. He tilted his head back and took a deep breath before speaking. "I think we got some pretty interesting folks here. Some of them are real fighters, some of them? Not so much. But hey, that''s life, right?"

    Wanderer nodded. "Yes." He then put his arms on the desk and put his fingers together in contemplation.

    Chrome leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "So, what now, boss? We got ourselves a new crew. What''s the plan? We gonna go on a new mission soon?"

    Wanderer closed his eyes for a moment. "Sure, the next mission will be brutal as always... but we have better gear and weapons. A lot of people will fucking die."

    Chrome nodded stoically. "Yeah, that''s true. But that''s the life we chose, ain''t it? We''ll do whatever it takes to survive and annihilate mutants. And if people die along the way, well... that''s just the cost of doing business."

    Wanderer''s hand clenched into a fist, his expression lightening. "Sure, we live on a dream..."

    Furqan and Chrome exchanged a look, sensing the shift in Wanderer''s demeanor. Chrome''s voice held a hint of concern. "Are you okay, man? You''re acting kinda strange."

    Wanderer shook his head. "No... I''m fine. I just feel a bit blessed and inspired, and a bit cursed at the same time."

    Chrome and Furqan shared another glance, clearly skeptical. "Seriously? You? Feeling blessed and inspired? That''s a first," Chrome said doubtfully.

    Wanderer brushed it off. "Good, let''s go to the training ground and prepare a course to build crew cohesion."

    Chrome nodded, just let it go. "Alright, sounds good. Let''s get out there and put these new recruits to the test. See what they''re made of."

    Wanderer, Chrome, and Furqan watched the recruits train in a simulated warfare scenario. The AI trainer guided the recruits through the exercise, pushing them to their limits. Some recruits faltered under the pressure, while others thrived.

    "Interesting group, huh?" Furqan mused, his gaze fixed on the trainees.

    "What''s interesting about them?" Wanderer asked,

    "I don''t know, just the way they move, the way they handle themselves," Furqan replied. "Some have experience, others are raw but show potential."

    "Reminds you of yourself, does it?" Wanderer teased.

    Furqan rolled his eyes. "Shut up. I''m nothing like those newbies. I''ve been in this game for a long time."

    Wanderer chuckled. "So humble."

    "Hey, I''m just stating facts," Furqan retorted defensively.

    Wanderer leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Good. Alright, it''s time for the show." With a swift motion, he pressed the button, A split-second later, a deafening boom shook the training ground, followed by the wet splat of¡­ something. Chunks of rancid meat rained down, coating the recruits in a sticky, putrid mess, a gruesome spectacle designed to test the recruits'' mental fortitude.

    The trio watched in silence as the scene unfolded below,One screamed, stumbling back, wiping gore from his eyes. Others froze, eyes wide, trying not to breathe. A few, though, just blinked, faces grim but steady.

    "Actually, this is part I like while doing training stuff... watching human reactions," Wanderer commented, a smirk playing on his lips.

    Chrome chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, I feel you. There''s something about watching people squirm that''s just... entertaining."

    Furqan grunted in agreement, not one to admit it, but secretly enjoying the reactions of the recruits. "Heh, later, after the explosion part is finished, the AI trainer will proceed with the mundane stuff, like regrouping and cohesion tests. Alright, you two can handle the rest. I will go somewhere," Wanderer said, rising from his desk.

    Chrome and Furqan exchanged a brief glance before turning back to Wanderer. "Where are you going?" Chrome asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

    Wanderer wiggled his eyebrows. "Umm... Woman."

    Chrome and Furqan exchanged another glance, understanding. "Right. a Business," Chrome replied with a grin. Furqan just snorted in response."

    Later, Wanderer made his way through the hall of the bunker, navigating among the different groups of people. no one know who wanderer is because his mask,

    He was on a mission to find a particular person. After a moment of searching, he let out a sigh of relief when he spotted her. Shizuka, a slender woman with white hair, stood out in her robe against the more simple clothes of the immigrants.

    "Here you are, you abandoned your post, girl," Wanderer said, approaching her as she played with some children.

    Shizuka looked up, slightly startled to see him. "Oh, Commander! You scared me!" she exclaimed, standing up and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I''m sorry, I just needed a break from the constant training and drills."

    "Well, yes, but at least don''t turn off your comm," Wanderer replied,

    Shizuka looked sheepish. "I know, I know. I''m sorry. I just turned it off for a few minutes to have some quiet time. I didn''t realize it would cause such a commotion..."

    Wanderer sighed. "Yes, so... anyway, have you gotten your ration? I''m... hungry."

    ¡°Ration? Yeah, I grabbed mine earlier. Are you hungry? Let¡¯s go get you something to eat,¡± Shizuka offered, starting to walk toward the mess hall and gesturing for Wanderer to follow her. there are competing food vendors within the bunker, each offering different meals at different prices.

    Wanderer shook his head. "No, not that crap food... cook for me again."

    Shizuka smirked, clearly amused. ¡°You¡¯re bossy, you know that? But fine, I¡¯ll cook something for you. Come on, I have some leftovers from lunch.¡± She led the way to her private quarters, where she had a small cooking area.

    "Yes, I''m bossy... because I''m indeed the boss," he replied, taking a seat at the small dining table.

    Shizuka rolled her eyes as she opened a small fridge, pulling out some leftover stew from lunch. "You''re lucky I made extra. It''s not much, but it should be enough to satisfy your hunger."

    "Yes, nom nom nom," Wanderer said, already digging in.

    Shizuka watched him devour the stew, a small smile on her face. "You''re such a pig. Do you ever stop eating?" she teased lightly.

    Wanderer coughed a bit from her comment, then he realize if he need to pray first. "Thanks to Gott for giving us food and shelter. Amin."

    Shizuka watched in surprise as he prayed. "You pray a lot, don''t you? I remember you doing it a lot after missions and before eating."

    "Yes, you need faith to keep sane and close to Gott," Wanderer replied while munching

    Shizuka considered his words for a moment before nodding. "I never really thought about it like that. But it makes sense. I guess having faith in something bigger can give you a sense of purpose and comfort, especially in this world."

    "Yes, just like when I named you Shizuka... a gentle person. That is my faith in you, dear," Wanderer said, his voice softening.

    Shizuka blushed.. "You know, you''re quite the charmer when you want to be."

    "I know... nom nom,"

    Shizuka laughed at his response, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, I bet you do. You''re a smooth talker when you want to be. And you''re definitely charming enough to get what you want, judging by the amount of food you''re putting away."

 Chapter 2: SWAT Territory

    The world is asking who you are, and if you don''t know, the world will tell you.

    "A month after the recruits finished their brutal training, The recruits sparred in the lower levels, the clang of metal echoing through the bunker. One, a skinny kid who''d stammered through Chrome''s interview, parried a blow with practiced ease, calloused hands gripping his weapon, eyes narrowed in concentration. "Look at them," he muttered to Furqan, who leaned against a nearby pillar.

    "Almost like they believe they have a chance. Cute." furqan eyes fixed on intercom on his right arms.

    ¡°dont be like that. they will be on your command now. as infantry ¡° wanderer wiggle his eyebrows

    they were ready to hit the wasteland. Their first gig: babysitting a caravan See, Ironhold wasn''t exactly a vacation spot. It was more of a pit stop, a hub. Every couple of months, they¡¯d send out a trading party deep into the Eastern Wasteland. It gave the new immigrants a better shot at survival ¨C sticking with the caravan was way safer than going it alone.

    A mix of battered trucks and polished dune buggies, loaded with supplies for the settlements, made up the caravan. They were headed for SWAT territory. in most front. a truck with extra stell protection secure his front glass. and top of it a giant yak skull with 3 horn, wanderer open the door and sit beside the driver

    ¡°First ride, huh?¡± Wanderer asked the caravan leader. a guy with a beard that looked like it had weathered a few apocalypses itself.

    ¡°yes,¡± the man replied. ¡°I¡¯ve traveled Europa, even the Holy Land,¡± the caravan leader said. ¡°But this wasteland¡­ it¡¯s different. I could use your experience.¡±

    Wanderer chuckles ¡°hah. take it easy. europa is messier place than here.. we in here just only got raider. mutants, and overly sensitive neighbour, just follow the route. and you will be fine¡±

    Caravan leader nod while observing map on his hand¡°what is swat stand for anyway?¡±

    Wanderer raise his eyebrows ¡°well.  swat stand for ¡°Scum-Wiping Annihilation Taskforce¡± they military society, i mostly work with them¡±

    Caravan leader give low whistle ¡° what did you say? scum wiping? what kind harcore name is that?¡±

    Wanderer nod his gaze soften ¡°they are mutant killers. well.. anyway..since this place communication devise is unrealiable.. thanks to prewar electronic jamming and dang weather,..just keep your eyes open. friendly fire is one major fatality in here¡±

    Caravan leader forehead turn into furrow ¡°i can imaginate that. the harsh wind. are you sure we will okay?¡±

    Wanderer laugh ¡°dont worry about it.. oh anyway. throw away your map.. its useles navigate this terrain with that old dated map. use this ¡°Wanderer then swapped his map for another before speaking ¡°just hit the gas and follow the route¡±

    They began their journey. The earth, scarred by tectonic shifts, lay in a patchwork of craters, valleys, and ruins of old world. On distant high points, scouts signaled with smoke and flares, their messages carried on the wind. in some part of region. a old pre war jammer is distrub the communication. adding to the sense of isolation. the caravan stretched across the desolate landscape, a vulnerable line against the horizon

    As they moved through the harsh terrain of the uncharted desert, convoy passed a road sign in the barren landscape.

    West: a human skull labeled "SWAT." North: a grotesque human skull with horns labeled "True Horde." East: an erect penis labeled "Series 9." South: a normal arrow labeled "Caliphate."

    Occasional earthquakes rumbled, and steam puffed from the vents of ancient volcanoes. Small shrines dotted their slopes, piles of scrap and bone strangely arranged. On one, a human skull rested on a makeshift offering plate, its empty sockets staring towards the cracked sky. This hellscape was normal to their eyes.

    From his six-wheeled command vehicle, nicknamed ¡°mobile home,¡± Wanderer surveyed the scene, scanning the horizon for any sign of trouble. Inside the armored behemoth, banks of monitors and comms gear formed the nerve center of his operation, with real-time feeds from cameras mounted on every vehicle in the caravan.

    Furqan pat his brown cat, not just a ordinary cat. its was a Ray cat, on his arms and glanced at Wanderer ¡°he not change color yet. its good. radiation wind then still not infected this route¡±

    Wanderer nod ¡°yeah.. i actually more scared with fellow human being than radiation¡±

    It was just then, as the caravan crested a low ridge, that the riders appeared, materializing from the swirling sand, a group of heavily armed riders materialized, clad in the distinctive black and blue of the SWAT. They signaled for the caravan to halt.

    Before the caravan leader could even speak from his truck, the SWAT commander barked an order. His men opened fire without hesitation, The caravan guards returned fire, the roar of automatic weapons shattering the desert silence.

    Wanderer, watching the whole thing from a distance, wasn''t about to stand by. Using his psychic abilities, he sent a message straight into the SWAT commander''s head: "You insolent fool. We''re the mercs working with you. And we''re with the immigrants. Stop firing now, or we''ll behead you all."

    The words hit the Young Commander¡ªa kid, really, with blond hair¡ªlike a punch to the gut. His face twisted with rage, but he wasn''t about to directly defy Wanderer. Instead, he turned to his men, yelling, ¡°Stop firing! They¡¯re just a caravan!¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The caravan leader let out a sigh of relief as his guards lowered their weapons. He nodded his thanks to Wanderer. The Young Commander, his pride clearly wounded, approached the caravan leader¡¯s truck. "Your threats mean nothing to me," he spat. "We don''t need your kind here. Get off my land!"

    Despite his anger, the Young Commander knew better than to antagonize Wanderer further. He gestured towards his men, ordering them to back off and let the caravan pass unharmed.

    Wanderer dismount from his Mobile home. and stepped forward. well he just a kid. and probably his first mission on this region. He pulled out the Lapis Azuli. "This is a symbol of our alliance," he said, offering the gem to the Young Commander.

    The Young Commander reached out, accepting the gem with trembling hands. He bowed his head slightly, acknowledging Wanderer''s status and the gesture''s significance. "You honor us with this gift," he said, his voice barely hiding his excitement. "I accept it as a symbol of our alliance."

    Wanderer, his voice flat, simply said, "Good. Now, escort us."

    With renewed vigor, the Young Commander nodded, motioning for Wanderer''s team and caravan to follow him. He led them towards the heart of SWAT territory, his back straight and proud. An hour later, they reached one of the SWAT bases.

    then the caravan stop at the gate, the caravan leader then thanks to wanderer before they split out, As they approached the central command building¡ªthe Bastion¡ªa cube-shaped structure with blue stripes and a cannon and anti-aircraft gun mounted on the roof,while a missile turret aim to the sky and had logo ¡°starsbuck¡± on it.

    Further inside, men in sleek black uniforms with the ''Serpent Protection'' insignia patrolled the corridors. The scent of ozone from the nearby charging stations mixed with the competing aromas of nutrient paste and synthetic meat from the various food vendors lining up.

    A massive holographic advertisement for ''Cybernetic Enhancements by BioGenesis'' flickered above them, momentarily blinding Wanderer. A nearby walkway was entirely covered in ''Mammoth Firearms'' logos. The Young Commander swiped a platinum card at a retinal scanner, the mechanism clicking open the heavy door to the command center. ''Premium access,'' he said, a hint of pride in his voice. ''Keeps out the riff-raff.''

    Beyond the door, the corridor was simple, with bare metal walls instead of advertisements. A few SWAT officers moved in the background, their presence more functional than decorative. The Young Commander led Wanderer to a sparsely furnished office. He turned, his expression now serious. ''This is where we make the decisions that matter,'' he said, his voice firm. ''Where I''ll present your proposal.''

    "This is where we make decisions that affect everyone in SWAT," he declared, his voice filled with conviction. "It''s here that I will present your proposal."

    Wanderer nodded,  thinking, ¡°i know this place kid. because im the one who build it in past.¡± His expression remained wary. "Good... we work together for few occasions... but the last one accident is... worse. What happened? Something got your leader''s nerve?"

    The Young Commander''s eyes narrowed at the mention of the previous incident, a shadow crossing his features. He quickly regained his composure. "That ''accident'', as you call it, nearly cost us everything," he said bitterly. "Our leader... he lost faith in us. In me."

    For a moment, he seemed lost in thought. Then, he shook his head. "But enough of that. We''re here now, aren''t we?" A small smile graced his lips.

    "Alright... I pretend nothing happened. So what is your next plan against the mutants?" Wanderer asked.

    The Young Commander nodded. "Our next strike will be against the True Horde," he stated firmly. "They''ve been growing bolder, pushing further into our territory. We need to send a message."

    He paused, glancing around. "But I''m not just planning another raid. This time, I want to hit them where it hurts. I want to cripple their forces, break their spirit."

    A sudden spark lit up his eyes. "And I think you might know exactly how to do that."

    Wanderer rubbed his nose. "Alright. Show us the location."

    With a nod, the Young Commander pulled out an old map, marking a spot with charcoal. "This is where the True Horde''s main base is located," he said, pointing to the marked spot. "It''s well defended, but if we can take out their food supply, we might just get what we''re looking for."

    He looked up at Wanderer, waiting for a response. Wanderer studied the map closely, mulling over the Young Commander''s words. Targeting the True Horde''s food supply was a smart move; it could lead to chaos within their ranks, providing an opening for a decisive strike.

    "Sounds like a plan," Wanderer said, nodding in agreement. "How about the enemy''s presence?"

    The Young Commander grinned, revealing a set of sharp teeth. "Don''t worry, we''ve got scouts watching the perimeter. We know when they''re most active, when they least expect an attack." His enthusiasm was palpable. "We''ll strike during their feeding time. They''ll be distracted, easy targets. And with your help, we''ll make sure they don''t stand a chance." He extended a hand. "Join us, and together we''ll bring those freaks to their knees."

    "Alright... can I ask a question?" Wanderer replied, curiosity piqued.

    The Young Commander raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Of course, you can ask. What''s on your mind?" He leaned back slightly, giving Wanderer his full attention. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes remained alert, ready for anything. "I''m always open to questions from my allies. It shows that you''re thinking critically, which is exactly what I want in my team."

    Wanderer hesitated for a moment before asking, "How... old are you?"

    The Young Commander chuckled, a deep sound that resonated with confidence. "Old? Not really. I mean, look around. This isn''t a place for the weak or the elderly. It''s survival of the fittest here." He shrugged, his youthful appearance contrasting sharply with his mature demeanor. "But since you asked, I''m twelve. That''s old enough to understand the harsh realities of our world and young enough to still dream of a better future."

    "Hm... good," Wanderer nodded with a slight smile.

    The Young Commander''s face lit up at Wanderer''s approval, his grin widening even further. "See? I told you we''d make a great team! Now, let''s get moving. We''ve got some mutants to hunt down and put in their place." He stood up, brushing off his uniform with a flourish. "Stick close and follow my lead. I''ll show you the ropes of being part of the SWAT. Together, we''ll conquer this wasteland!"

    Later, they prepared their gear in the garage, surrounded by dirt bikes and all-terrain pickups which decorated with various bone. Wanderer and his team geared up for the operation, checking their weapons and supplies.

    ''You know... they''re just throwing bodies at the problem, aren''t they?'' Wanderer chuckled, glancing at Furqan and Chrome.

    Furqan and Chrome exchanged glances. Furqan nodded. ''No central recruitment, no training standards. Every local chapter does its own thing. They are indeed low on manpower, aren''t they? This SWAT force is severely understaffed.''

    Chrome chimed in, his voice laced with a hint of worry. "They''re spreading themselves too thin, trying to defend too much territory. It''s a recipe for disaster."

    "Good! I mean... bad," Wanderer replied, a smirk on his face.

    Chrome chuckled dryly. "Yes, it''s bad for them. But it''s pretty convenient for us, considering what we''re about to do."

    Furqan remained silent, his eyes scanning the surroundings vigilantly, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming operation. The tension in the air was palpable, but so was the excitement of the hunt ahead.

 Chapter 3 Desert Nest

    part 1

    The air was thick with dust, swirling in the wind like ghosts of the past. Distant rumbles of thunder hinted at storms that rarely brought rain, only more desolation to the already ravaged landscape. Wanderer emptied his water canteen, the last drops slipping through his fingers like the fleeting hope of relief. He glanced at the recruits, noting the signs of heat stroke on some of their faces. Their underground skin was still adapting to the harsh sun above, and he felt a pang of responsibility for their well-being.

    "You cannot apply kindness and understanding to others if you have not applied it to yourself," he reminded himself, a mantra that echoed in his mind. He turned to the squad leaders, his voice firm. "Double-check your supplies. We can''t afford to lose anyone out here."

    Later, the Young Commander climbed onto the hood of the lead vehicle, surveying his assembled squad with a fierce gaze. His voice boomed over the rumble of engines, filled with determination and barely contained excitement.

    "Listen up, everyone! Today, we embark on a mission that will cement the SWAT''s dominance over this godforsaken wasteland! Our target: a nest of those disgusting mutants, the True Horde!"

    A few cheers rose from the ranks, but the Young Commander silenced them with a raised fist.

    "But remember, this won''t be easy! These freaks fight dirty, and they don''t care about rules or honor. They''re savage beasts, and we need to treat them as such!" His eyes narrowed, focusing intently on each member of the squad. "I expect nothing less than perfection from every single one of you."

    Furqan and Chrome watched the Young Commander''s performance with a mix of admiration and concern. The man had ambition, but his methods were questionable. "Good," Wanderer muttered, "be aggressive. But don''t fall for their traps. Follow the drills, and we might come back."

    Turning to Wanderer, the Young Commander''s tone softened slightly. "I know you''re used to operating independently, but today, we''re all in this together. Follow my orders, stay sharp, and trust your comrades. Remember, our goal is to eliminate the mutant threat without sacrificing too many of our own." He paused, his gaze sweeping across their faces. "And don''t worry, I won''t hold it against you if you take a few extra trophies from the enemy. Just keep the focus on the mission."

    With a final, decisive nod, the Young Commander leaped down from the vehicle, striding purposefully toward the front lines. "Alright, let''s move out! Show these mutants what the SWAT is made of!"

    Wanderer''s mercenaries murmured their agreement, their faces set in determined expressions. They may not be used to taking orders other beside wanderer, but they understood the importance of the mission at hand. Furqan and Chrome exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. They were ready for battle.

    wanderer cars move first in front. their rusty rugged appearance and non artistic cars is contrast on more standardized SWAT vehicles which had blue paint job, Wanderer mobile home is ride close to Young Commander Jeeps,

    as the terrain turn into brown reddish platou, the Young Commander led the way, his small frame brimming with confidence. His eyes scanned the horizon, taking in every detail, every possible hiding spot for the mutants.

    "We''ve got to hit hard and fast," he murmured to himself, just loud enough for those nearby to hear. "We can''t afford to give them time to regroup."

    Wanderer interjected, "Let my force be the scouts ahead. We know we can''t rely on maps."

    The Young Commander nodded, acknowledging Wanderer''s suggestion.

    "Good call. We need to be prepared for anything. Send your best scouts ahead, cover the flanks, and watch for signs of ambushes." His gaze lingered on the horizon, watching as the first wave of scouts disappeared into the distance.

    "Keep your comms open, everyone. If we see something, we say something."

    Furqan and Chrome stood by, their weapons at the ready. Chrome glanced at the Young Commander, a hint of respect in his eyes.

    "He''s got guts, that one. Almost makes me forget he''s just a kid," Chrome remarked.

    After the scouts disappeared among the canyons and valleys, Wanderer turned to Chrome in the back seat.

    "Oho. Does he remind you of yourself?"

    Chrome chuckled wryly, a nostalgic look in his eyes. "I guess he does, in a way. Reminds me of myself when I was younger, all full of fire and brimstone."

    Chrome glanced over at the Young Commander, who was issuing orders to his subordinates with practiced authority

    "I was a hot-headed idiot, rushing into battles without thinking twice. But hey, it''s a phase most of us go through in our youth, right?"

    "Hmhm... it looks like that boy might be smarter than you," Wanderer teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

    Chrome smirked back, clearly amused by Wanderer''s remark. "Hey, watch your tone, old man. I may have been reckless back in the day, but I had my share of wins." He leaned back against the seat, folding his arms. "But I gotta admit, the boy does have promise. He''s got charisma and a good sense of tactics. Might just make a decent leader one day."

    Later, the scouts found a possible supply depot¡ªa cave near a cliff, surrounded by a dozen tents. Wanderer, using his real-time psyche ability, relayed the intel to the Young Commander. The boy listened intently, his expression darkening as he processed the information.

    "A cave... perfect for an ambush. And a dozen tents... that means there could be dozens of mutants inside." He paused, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the hilt of his gun. "Alright, here''s what we''re going to do..."

    "Good... just like the usual formation? Light troops in front to absorb the incoming attack while the big guns stay in the back? Or do you have something else in mind?" Wanderer asked, curious about the Young Commander''s strategy.

    The Young Commander thought for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. Then, a sly grin spread across his face. "No, I''m thinking something different. We''re going to split our forces into two groups. One will take the high ground, the other will approach from the rear. That should keep us from getting surrounded."

    His eyes glinted with excitement. "And if we''re lucky, we might even catch them off guard."

    "Not bad. Alright, let''s get going," Wanderer replied, nodding in approval.

    With a nod, the Young Commander began issuing orders to his men, assigning each soldier their specific task. "Move out! First group, take the high ground. Second group, flank around from the rear. Let''s move!"

    As the order was given, the soldiers sprang into action, moving swiftly toward their designated positions. The Young Commander stayed behind for a moment longer, ensuring everything was in place before joining the fray himself. Wanderer watched with a mix of admiration and concern as the troops moved out. He trusted the Young Commander''s strategy, but he couldn''t help but worry about the safety of his own mercenaries, especially the younger ones.

    In the eerie silence of the wasteland, the psychic energies of the mutants seemed to pulse in the air, creating an almost tangible tension that made the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end, as if the very environment was alive with unseen forces. They waited for a while for the first force to pick up the high ground while Wanderer''s force prepared to attack from the rear. The air was hot, Wanderer could see all of his crew drenched in sweat.

    their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the mutants. Chrome fidgeted with his revolver, unable to keep still. Furqan, on the other hand, remained tense and alert, his mind focused on the upcoming battle.

    "The command is too loose for me," Wanderer said, turning to Chrome. "When the attack starts, we will use a circle tactic. Take out the outer force before we go deeper. Meanwhile, let Shizuka act as our backup in the back."

    Chrome nodded, his expression serious. He seemed relieved to have more specific orders to follow. "Copy that. I''ll relay the order to the others. Once the outer force is out of the way, we''ll push forward."

    "Good." Wanderer then dismounted from the mobile home and mounted his dirt bike, while Chrome took the driver¡¯s seat. Furqan remained in the front seat, focused on the terrain map, while shizuka lead few warband on rear position

    Wanderer glanced at his watch. Just a few minutes remained before the attack. He placed his finger on his right forehead, activating his real-time psyche to address his mercenaries. "This is it, boys. Some of us might die. Some of us might feast tomorrow. No matter the path we take, we will meet Gott.... Do your job, and let Gott do the rest."

    Each of the mercs in Wanderer''s force listened intently as his words washed over them. Their expressions ranged from determination to nervousness, but each one nodded in understanding. Chrome glanced over at Wanderer, a mixture of skepticism and respect in his eyes.

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    "Feast or meet God, huh? Not very reassuring, boss," Chrome remarked.

    "They are recruits. I still can''t use a more arousing speech with them. I don¡¯t want them to break," Wanderer replied with a chuckle.

    Chrome chuckled dryly at Wanderer''s words. "Fair enough. Can''t have them pissing themselves before the battle even starts."

    Furqan turned around, his gaze locked on Wanderer. "They''re ready. Just waiting for the signal."

    Part 2

    Later, the two forces took their positions, ready to attack the mutant nest. In the distance, the mutants were gathered around long tables, engaged in their ritualistic meal, their guard lowered.

    The Young Commander signaled for silence, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them. He tightened his grip on his rifle, watching the mutants completely unaware of the impending danger.

    "This is too easy," he whispered. "They think they''re safe because of their numbers. But we''ve got them right where we want them."

    He turned to Wanderer who in his dirt bike, fierce determination burning in his gaze. "On my mark, we strike. Remember, aim for the head. Don''t waste your ammo on body shots."

    "Roger that," Wanderer replied, his voice steady.

    The Young Commander took a deep breath, steeling himself for the violence to come. With a sharp nod, he gave the signal for the assault to begin.

    "Now!"

    A chorus of gunfire erupted from both sides as the soldiers opened fire on the unsuspecting mutants. Chaos descended upon the ritual site, the air filled with screams, crunching bone,

    "Their defenses are down! Press the attack!" the Young Commander shouted above the din, urging his troops onward. "Don''t let them regroup!"

    "Crush them!" Wanderer commanded, leading the rear strikes. Their vehicles arrived among the canyons, moving and firing from their mounted machine guns while the rest shot from their seats with small arms.

    As the assault unfolded, the Young Commander remained focused on the battlefield, barking orders to his troops and coordinating the attack. He spotted Wanderer leading the rear strikes, their vehicles causing havoc among the mutant ranks.

    "Good work, Wanderer!" he shouted over the radio. "Keep up the pressure! We need to break their morale!"

    The Young Commander''s attention was drawn to a group of mutants attempting to flank their position. He quickly rallied a squad to counter the threat, ordering them to hold the line until reinforcements could arrive.

    "Remember, every mutant we kill today is one less enemy we''ll face tomorrow!"

    "Don''t tell me," Wanderer replied, his voice calm but hinting at irritation. He kept focusing on leading individual troops with his ability while the mutants scrambled to their tents and armory, returning with weapons for a counterattack.

    the mutant armed with bows,clubs, claws, shotgun and bolt action rifle. the mutant with extra limb use his small arms to carry the arrows make them able to deliver quick shot, while mutants with powerful legs jump to the higher ground to mount the machine gun nest.

    Watching the battle unfold, the Young Commander felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. His eyes darted across the battlefield, scanning for weaknesses and opportunities.

    "Don''t stop, Wanderer!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing through the headset. "They''re putting up a fight ¨C it''s time to finish them off!"

    He watched as a group of mutants attempted to overrun a SWAT squad, their claws and teeth proving formidable opponents despite the overwhelming odds.

    "Fall back! Regroup at the ridge!" he commanded "We''ll hit them from high ground."

    Despite the chaos around him, the Young Commander maintained an aura of calm. Chrome fired a few more shots into the charging mutants with his revolver on top of mobile home just after his machinegun barrel jammed because the overheating, his aim impeccable as ever.

    "This is getting rough. We can''t keep holding them off forever," Chrome said,

    Wanderer looked at his Mad Max cars and dirt bikes, one by one being destroyed by mutant fire arrows and rockets. "Alright, do as drilled. Feign retreat."

    Chrome grinned, his eyes lighting up at the order. "Heh, I like the sound of that. Feigning retreat always gets ''em riled up."

    Later, the rear force turned back while their mounted guns continued to fire. Among the mutants, wolf riders began to chase the rear force. the oversized wolf used for ride, they are jumping from plateau to other, armed with sword and shotgun. their rider is paint their face full red, created sense of intimidation

    "Damn... looks like we''ve got some wolf riders on our tail. Those things are fast," Chrome observed as they moving closer, his expression tense.

    The wolf riders picked off stranded soldiers with ease. "Don''t fall behind! Or you will die!" Wanderer relayed the order while shooting any mutant within shotgun range, still mounted on his dirt bike.

    "Copy that. We aren''t gonna let those furries pick us off one by one," Chrome replied,

    While on run Wanderer then threw his drone into the sky, watching its path with keen interest. The aerial view revealed the strategic maneuver underway¡ªluring the bulk of the mutant forces away from their base to chase the rear force while only a small number chased the first force on high ground. "Good! Let¡¯s drive these freaks to the Young Commander. They won¡¯t expect it!"

    Chrome grinned, excitement gleaming in his eyes. "I like the way you think, boss. Let''s give ''em a little surprise attack from behind."

    Wanderer watched the battle unfold from the drone monitor while driving. His gaze sharpened as he spotted a familiar silhouette emerge from the ridge. It was the Young Commander, leading the charge. The SWAT forces were well-organized, their movements precise and coordinated.

    Later, the Young Commander launched a sudden attack on the mutant who was chasing the rear force. The mutant wolf rider couldn¡¯t dodge the onslaught, and as confusion spread among the rest of the mutants,

    the rear force, under Wanderer¡¯s orders, turned back to join the fray. Their trucks and Mad Max cars crushed the disoriented mutants beneath their wheels.

    The vehicles they rode, though battered and bruised, seemed capable of holding their own against the mutant horde. Dust kicked up by the skirmish obscured much, yet the sounds of gunfire, bone crush and explosions provided an unmistakable soundtrack to the unfolding drama.

    wanderer then dismount from his bike and mount to mobile home for better view, As the dust settled momentarily, revealing a section of the battlefield, Wanderer spotted something unexpected. It was Shizuka, leading a small group of her followers into the thick of things.

    Her presence is help to deal with mutants who trying flank Wanderer and Swat,

    ¡°Hey... isn¡¯t that Shizuka over there? What¡¯s she doing here?¡± Chrome asked, noticing her too.

    ¡°Itchy...¡± Wanderer replied, his voice calm but hinting at irritation.

    Chrome gave Wanderer a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Itchy? What do you mean by that?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know her? Well, never mind... you¡¯ll see for yourself.¡±

    Chrome still looked confused but shrugged it off, refocusing his attention on the aftermath of the battle. ¡°Alright... Guess I¡¯ll leave you to your mysterious insights, boss.¡±

    the empty desert plain filled by wrecks and dead body

    ¡°They decimated... it¡¯s time to attack or never,¡± Wanderer stressed to the Young Commander.

    The Young Commander nodded slowly, As the Young Commander gave the order to press forward,

    As they moved closer to the mutant nest, among the tents, they could see women and children running around while mutant men mounted their machine gun turrets and ballistae (big crossbow).

    With a grim set to his jaw, Wanderer signaled for his team to advance cautiously, The enemy¡¯s defenses were formidable¡ªtowering walls made of scrap metal and reinforced with spikes designed to maim and kill.

    ¡°Alright, men. You know the drill... switch your weapons to fire arrows and explosives. We will take down their defensive structure,¡± Wanderer commanded.

    Chrome nodded, quickly switching his weapon to fire arrows. ¡°Got it, boss. Let¡¯s light them up.¡±

    With a hiss of hydraulics, the machine gun turret on mobile home retracted, replaced by a rack of high-tech crossbows. Each bolt glinted menacingly, tipped with razor-sharp arrowheads and miniature explosives designed to breach even the toughest armor.

    ¡°On my mark... fire! Fire at will! Light them up!¡± he shouted.

    At the command, he released the bolt, watching as it arced through the air towards its target. A split second later, there was a loud explosion, followed by another, and another.

    The fortified walls of the mutant stronghold began to crumble under the onslaught of explosives. while mutant machine gun turrets and ballistae is out of range, unable to return fire

    Wanderer¡¯s team followed suit, each member unleashing a barrage of bolts aimed at different parts of the defensive structure. Smoke billowed up from multiple points along the wall, obscuring their view momentarily.

    Chrome grinned as the explosion and smoke filled the air, his finger itching on the trigger. ¡°Looks like our little surprise worked, boss. Those mutants are in for a rude awakening.¡±

    ¡°I can smell blood and cooked meat,¡± Wanderer commented, then ordered to stop the attack after the mutants ceased returning fire.

    Chrome looked at him in surprise. ¡°Stop the attack? But why? We¡¯re really giving them hell here.¡±

    ¡°This ammo is expensive... we can¡¯t just spend it on obscure targets,¡± Wanderer replied.

    Chrome nodded in understanding, reluctantly lowering his crossbow. ¡°Alright, I get it. We don¡¯t want to waste our resources on scattered targets. But damn, it feels good to show those mutants what we¡¯re made of.¡±

    Wanderer stood at the forefront,he took a heavy sigh, his voice steady and commanding. "Alright, lead the troops. We will go closer to their nest."

    Chrome nodded while dismount from mobile home. "Roger that, boss. I''ll lead us in. Let''s see what these mutants are hiding in their home base."

    As the smoke cleared, Wanderer led his team cautiously towards the breached stronghold on foot, keeping a watchful eye out for any signs of immediate danger. Upon reaching the made by bones entrance, he signaled for his men to fan out and secure the perimeter, ensuring no surprises awaited them inside.

    Approaching the outer wall, the acrid smell of burning flesh and synthetic materials filled the air, making his stomach churn. He covered his nose with his parfum smell handkerchief , trying to block out the nauseating stench.

    Peeking over the rubble-strewn barrier, he was met with a gruesome sight. Mutant tents, once colorful and vibrant, now burned fiercely, casting an orange glow across the charred remains of the creatures that inhabited them. Countless bodies lay scattered, some still twitching in agony, others motionless and blackened. Arrows pierced several corpses,.

    A sudden, pained scream echoed through the devastation, causing Wanderer to tense. He quickly checked his surroundings, its was sound of his men finish off the mutant on ground

    ¡°Hmm... we decimated them... we won,¡± he muttered, a mix of relief and sad washing over him.

    The Young Commander who then behind him nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips as he surveyed the destruction. "Good job, Wanderer. We''ve dealt a significant blow to those filthy mutants."

    He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before continuing. "However, don''t get too comfortable. There are likely more of them lurking nearby, waiting for an opportunity to strike back. We need to secure our perimeter and prepare for further attacks."

    Turning to his squad, he barked orders, directing them to set up defensive positions and gather intelligence on the surrounding area. As they scrambled to obey,

    the Young Commander fixed his gaze back on Wanderer, a calculating glint in his eye. "I trust you''ll take care of any stragglers, Wanderer? We can''t afford to let our guard down, not even for a moment."

    "Roger that. Proceed to clean and loot," Wanderer replied, his tone firm.

    As the Young Commander began issuing orders to his squad, Wanderer turned to leave, his steps echoing in the silence left behind by the battle, where the last few mutants lay lifeless. A pang of guilt hit him hard, but he shook it off quickly. This was war; it came with its share of sacrifices.

    Approaching one of the mutants, he checked for signs of life. Finding none, he moved onto the next, repeating the process until he was certain they were all dead. Satisfied, he started looting their bodies, collecting anything valuable¡ªweapons, ammunition, food rations¡ªanything that could be useful to the SWAT.

    Chrome approached him, looking around at the carnage they had wrought. "Damn, boss. We really did a number on these mutants. Can''t say I feel bad for them, though. They had it coming."

    Wanderer grunted in agreement, continuing to sift through the bodies for supplies. Despite his stern exterior, he couldn''t help but feel a pang of guilt at the sight of the mutant children amongst the dead.

    After a solemn moment, he turned to Chrome with a lighter expression. "Well... what with that melancholic comment?"

    Chrome shrugged, his expression less serious now. "Just thinking, boss. It''s never easy taking lives, even if they are our enemies. Makes me wonder sometimes if there''s any point to all this fighting."

    "There is no point. We do it for... killing time," Wanderer replied bluntly.

    Chrome raised an eyebrow at Wanderer''s response. "Killing time, yeah. But don''t you ever feel like there could be more to life? Like this constant fighting is just... empty?"

    "What? Did your ruthless trait finally show a crack? What did your wife tell you this morning? Hmhm?" Wanderer teased.

    Chrome''s face flushed slightly at Wanderer''s question, obviously touched upon a sensitive topic. He tried to hide it by grumbling. "Shut up, man. Don''t bring her into this."

    "I will bring her into this matter... especially... her trait," Wanderer shot back.

    Chrome''s expression darkened. "You really wanna go there, boss? Fine. You wanna know the truth? She''s always saying the same damn thing¡ªthat I spend too much time away from our home, fighting pointless battles. She wants me to settle down, start a family, forget about this life of bloodshed."

    "Really? Nodira said that to you? Very hard to believe... I thought she wanted to go kill more," Wanderer replied, skepticism lacing his tone.

    Chrome''s expression hardened. "What''s so hard to believe? She''s been saying it for months now. Every time we get back from a mission, she nags at me to find a way out of this life. It''s like she''s fed up with all the fighting and death."

    "Alright... we will go with a few missions and a tour left for SWAT before we rest," Wanderer concluded.

    Chrome nodded, still visibly frustrated. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Let''s just get through these last few missions and then we can call it a day. I need some R&R to clear my head."

    Later, after unloading the loot at the SWAT base, Wanderer looked at Furqan and Shizuka, who were in the warehouse after delivering the wounded to the medbay. "Are you two okay?"

    Furqan with his white mask turn into blackish color, nodded wearily . "Yeah, I''m fine. Just a few scratches and bruises. Nothing major."

    Shizuka rub her white hair and smiled weakly. "I''m alright too. Just a little tired from all the chaos."

    "Yes, Shizuka... how many times have I told you not to turn off the comm? I know you''re trying to help, but your force is for reinforcement only," Wanderer admonished gently.

    Shizuka hung her head apologetically. "I know, I know. I just don''t like sitting on the sidelines while you guys are in danger. I can handle myself, you know."

    "Alright... we had a small problem with Chrome... he... had battle fatigue, I guess," Wanderer admitted.

    Furqan looked surprised at that revelation. "Chrome? Battle fatigue? That doesn''t sound like him at all. He''s usually so level-headed, even in the heat of battle."

    "Yes, it is... we need another lieutenant," Wanderer replied.

    Shizuka tilted her head, concern etched on her face. "Who would we appoint as an interim lieutenant? We can''t just pick anyone. It needs to be someone reliable and trustworthy."

    "Don''t tell me that... we will think it along the way. But for now, we are going to feast with the SWAT commanders," Wanderer said, shifting the focus.

    Furqan grinned at the mention of the feast. "A feast, eh? That''s just what we need to boost morale and clear our minds. I could really use a few drinks right now."

 Chapter 4 Oil and Blood

    <h2>Part 1</h2>

    Wanderer stared at the casualties list displayed on his intercom: "14 warriors dead, 12 warriors wounded." SWAT casualties: ¡°24 regular units lost, 3 regular units wounded in action. No casualties among the elite units.¡± He switched off the display, He walked toward the mobile home, Shizuka and Furqan following behind him.

    Shizuka spoke, "Don''t worry, we''ll figure out a solution to the interim lieutenant issue later. For now, let''s just enjoy the feast. We''ve more than earned a little break."

    Wanderer stopped walking and turned to face her. "I mean... are you okay? You seem... indifferent."

    Shizuka looked confused. "Me? I''m fine, really. I''m just a bit tired. Today''s battle was intense, but I''m glad we were victorious," she explained, her smile fading slightly.

    "Alright, good girl," he said, patting her head.

    Shizuka let out a soft laugh, her expression softening at Wanderer''s touch. "Thanks, Commander. I appreciate the concern, but I can handle myself. You don''t have to worry about me all the time, you know," she replied,

    Later, Wanderer and his lieutenants Shizuka and Furqan made their way to the SWAT feast,

    there is Swat officer wearing a dark blue uniform. on their chest they had a minimal name tag. such Officer P-1, officer B-1, they use their rank and service location as id. and the old and most highest rank simply called as Old commander. a man with bold head and bulky apperance. he had worked with Wanderer in the past, greeted him.

    "Another freak down, decimated by us. Good job." The old commander gestured for them to sit. Wanderer nodded and took a seat at the reserved table.

    As he settled in, the old commander''s words echoed in his mind. Another victory, another notch on the belt of the SWAT. He tried to ignore the twinge of unease in his gut, pushing aside thoughts of the mutants he''d just helped eliminate. Around him, laughter and clinking glasses filled the air as the SWAT celebrated their win.

    Around him, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses fill the air as the SWAT celebrate their win. Wanderer scans the room, taking in the mix of hardened veterans and younger recruits, all united in their unwavering loyalty to the faction.

    As the feast progressed, Wanderer and his lieutenants mingled with the other SWAT members, sharing stories and laughter. The atmosphere was jovial,

    later The old commander turned on the monitor behind him, revealing an aerial view of an oil derrick complex flying the True Horde banner. "The next mission, these freaks are after the oil. They''ll sell it to the caliphate for medicine, tools, and weapons. If we want to win this war, we must cut off their source of income," he declared, his voice filled with determination.

    Wanderer''s eyes narrowed as he studied the map. He knew the importance of oil, its long gone era when Human is develop a biofuel now they should fend themself into a oil again for quickest solution for fuel. But he also knew the cost of securing it.

    "Oil..." he muttered,

    The old commander met his gaze, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "And don''t forget about their barn and their herds. We will capture or burn it. We must not let them keep breeding," he added,

    As the old commander continued to speak, Wanderer''s mind began to race. There were so many ways this mission could go wrong. The oil derrick complex would be heavily defended, and the True Horde weren''t known for their mercy. On top of that, the thought of burning their barn and harming their animals left a sour taste in his mouth. He knew war was never pretty,

    Later, after the celebratory feast, Wanderer found himself drawn to one of the trailers. A woman with a purple swimsuit was lounging on top, soaking in the sun. Her black sunglasses shielded her eyes from the harsh sunlight.

    "Girl... you''ll get burned for sure," Wanderer called out, his voice carrying over the noise of the camp.

    The woman lifted her sunglasses, revealing a pair of sparkling blue eyes. It was Nodira, Chrome''s wife.

    Wanderer climbed onto the trailer, standing beside her. "You seem pretty relaxed," he commented.

    Nodira chuckled softly, shifting to a sitting position. She looked up at him, a sly smile playing at the corners of her lips.

    "Ah, Wanderer. I''ve been wondering when you''d come find me. I figured you''d be too busy celebrating with the rest of your crew," she replied.

    Wanderer grinned. "Well, I care about my lieutenant... your husband."

    Nodira''s expression softened at the mention of Chrome. She knew Wanderer''s concern was genuine.

    "Thank you for looking out for him," she said. "I know he can be a handful sometimes, but deep down he''s a good person. I just worry about him, you know?"

    Wanderer nodded. "Hah... yes," he replied, picking up a nearby towel and tossing it at her body to cover her exposed skin. "But... tell me. What do you do to him? Hmhm?"

    Nodira feigned surprise as the towel hit her body, covering her from Wanderer''s view. She raised an eyebrow at his question.

    "What do you mean? What makes you think I''ve done something to him?" she asked,

    Wanderer chuckled, enjoying her act. "Well yes... only three things make a man change his heart. First... woman... second... is woman... and third... is woman," he said,

    Nodira laughed, amused by Wanderer''s playful banter. She shook her head in mock frustration.

    "You''re not wrong, you know," she admitted. "Chrome is like a wild horse. A stubborn one at that. It takes a very special kind of woman to tame him. I should know."

    She smirked and lifted the edge of the towel, giving Wanderer a tantalizing glimpse of her toned body.

    "You...!" Wanderer exclaimed, his voice rising. He quickly looked away, his face flushed behind his mask.

    Nodira chuckled at Wanderer''s reaction, enjoying the way he struggled to keep his composure. She leaned forward slightly, the towel slipping down a little more.

    "What''s the matter, Wanderer? Can''t handle a little skin? Don''t pretend you''re not enjoying the view," she teased.

    Wanderer coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. "I don''t know your true feelings... sometimes... I even wonder... what your true goal is."

    Nodira''s expression turned serious at Wanderer''s words. She leaned back against the trailer, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

    "What are you insinuating, Wanderer? That I have some kind of hidden motive in being with Chrome? I love him, you know that. It''s that simple," she said,

    Wanderer nodded, his skepticism still evident. "Hmmh... I''ll buy that... for now... but tell me... how did you both meet? Beside... you know... war."

    Nodira grinned, amused by Wanderer''s curiosity. She leaned back against the trailer, her expression nostalgic.

    "Well, it''s a bit of a long story, but I''ll give you the short version. We met on the battlefield. He was a fierce warrior, and I was a woman of mystery. Our eyes met across the carnage, and the rest is history, as they say," she replied.

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "Humpf. What is his relationship with your father?"

    Nodira frowned at Wanderer''s question, her expression becoming more guarded.

    "Why do you want to know about Chrome''s relationship with my father? What does that have to with anything?" she asked, her voice defensive.

    Wanderer shrugged. "I know it''s a sensitive topic... but I want the truth... is it true that you were used as a bargaining chip to make peace between Chrome and your tribe?"

    Nodira sighed heavily. "I suspected you knew about that. Yes, it''s true. I was arranged to marry Chrome as part of a peace agreement between our factions. It was a political arrangement, nothing more. But over time, I grew to love him."

    Wanderer nodded,. "Really? No hate at all? You can be honest with me, you know..."Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Nodira hesitated for a moment, her expression conflicted. She looked away, avoiding Wanderer''s gaze.

    "At first, yes. I hated the idea of being married off to some brutish warrior as part of some political deal. But then I met Chrome, and everything changed. I saw beneath that tough exterior, and I saw a man with a heart of gold. It may have started as a political arrangement, but it became something more...something real," she admitted.

    Wanderer humming. "Hmmh... yes..."

    Nodira turned back to Wanderer, her expression softening. She could tell he was still skeptical, still not quite convinced.

    "Look, I know it''s hard to believe. But trust me, it wasn''t easy for me either. I had to learn to trust Chrome and let go of all the prejudices I had against the Eastern tribes. But I''m glad I did. Chrome is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of guy. Even you can''t deny that," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

    wanderer nod "alright.. i trust you ,, but please.. put some bodyguard on your trailer.. what if.. some man broke into this place" wanderer then wiggle his eyebrows

    Nodira laughed at Wanderer''s suggestion. "Ha! You really think I need bodyguards? I can take care of myself, you know. Besides, I doubt any man would be stupid enough to try anything while Chrome is around." She paused, then raised an eyebrow at Wanderer. "But if you''re worried, I suppose I could always use some extra protection...maybe you can volunteer?"

    Wanderer shook his head. "No, thanks. I might give more harm than protection."

    Nodira laughed again, amused by Wanderer''s response. "Ah, come on, don''t be so modest. I''m sure you''d be great at protecting me. You''re a skilled warrior, after all." She teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

    Wanderer nodded, glancing down at the dagger on her thigh. "Alright... I think that''s... please make my lieutenant feel good tonight."

    Nodira followed Wanderer''s gaze down to her thigh, then looked back up at him with a sly smile. "Don''t worry, I''ll make sure Chrome is taken care of. But what about you?" She stepped closer to Wanderer, her eyes trailing over his body with a suggestive look.

    Wanderer smiled. "I''m satisfied with my woman... for now... Oh god, what am I talking about? I''ll always be satisfied with her... thanks to Gott."

    Nodira laughed again, clearly amused by Wanderer''s comment. "I see, you''re a loyal man, through and through. I respect that." She grinned and gave Wanderer a playful pat on the shoulder. "And don''t worry, your secret is safe with me. I won''t tell your woman that you were checking me out."

    Wanderer shook his head. "No, thanks. I''m innocent, dude." He jumped off the trailer and waved at Nodira before leaving.

    Nodira grinned and watched as Wanderer walked away. "Yeah, sure you are," she called out with a chuckle. "I''ll remember that next time you''re ogling me." She shook her head in mock disappointment.

    <h2>Part 2</h2>

    next day. the workshop was a hive of activity, a symphony of hammering, grinding, and the occasional clank of metal. Some of his new recruits were scrambling to finish up repairs on various vehicles, while others were cleaning human remains off an old truck,

    meanwhile wanderer enjoy his premium popsicle he buy from vending machine. and strolling around for inspection.

    then a skinny man. label as Swat scout bumped into him, carrying a large box. Wanderer glared at him, his annoyance evident. "Hey, watch it, buddy. You just ruined my popsicle," he scolded,

    The scout apologized, his face sheepish. "Sorry about that, sir," he muttered. "Didn''t see you there."

    Wanderer''s anger subsided as he recognized the scout. He had fought beside him in previous missions. "Alright, alright. Just be careful next time, okay? I don''t have many of those left," he said, picking up his popsicle on ground and taking a bite.

    The scout nodded, his expression serious. "I heard some rumors circulating among the troops," he began, his voice low. "They''re saying we''re low on supplies, that the higher-ups are holding out on us. Some are saying the brass is prioritizing certain contracts over others"

    Wanderer''s ears perked up. "I can''t do anything about it," he replied, his voice flat. "What I care about is that they pay me like usual."

    The scout nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I get it. But...some of the men are talking about mutiny. They''ve had enough. They''re not gonna go out and die for some commander who''s lining his own pockets."

    Wanderer''s let out a deep sigh, mulling over the situation in his mind. he wanna stay away from politic stuff.

    "You''re talking about dangerous things," he said, his voice stern. "Better just suck it up and keep your mouth shut. It''s for your own good."

    The scout nodded reluctantly, his expression falling. "Alright, sir. I understand. Just thought I''d bring it up, is all. We''re all on the same side here, right?"

    Wanderer gave the scout a stern look, then patted him on the shoulder. "Yeah, we are. But sometimes, we gotta pick our battles. This ain''t one of them. Keep your head low and do your job. And be careful with your elbows next time."

    The close, metallic confines of the workshop were a distant memory now. The sun beat down mercilessly on the convoy as it rumbled across the barren wasteland. Wanderer, his face partially obscured by a weathered scarf, sat atop one of the mobile homes. He was surrounded by a mix of seasoned SWAT veterans and fresh recruits, their faces etched with varying degrees of determination and apprehension.

    As the convoy approached the local tribe''s camp, Wanderer couldn''t help but notice the subtle genetic differences in their physiques. These were not the same mutants they had encountered before. These are still considered a humans, albeit ones with slightly altered shape.

    their body is filled by tattoos. and some is completely nude, then a man with long head, a tribe leader greeted the SWAT delegation. He offered tribute and pledged his allegiance, but his eyes held a flicker of unease. As the conversation progressed, a different tribe leader spoke up, expressing concern about the Blood Khaganate, a fierce and independent tribe known for their brutality.

    as the meeting continue. a group of horseman and dirt bike is arrive, they are the local tribes, and they offered tribute to the SWAT, showcasing their submission.

    However,and another tribe leader pleaded for mercy, mentioning the presence of the Blood Khaganate, a fiercely independent tribe that remained neutral in the conflict. They had hidden bunkers throughout the canyons, and their leader, Blood Khagan, might not be pleased if they surrendered to the SWAT.

    "Blood Khaganate, huh? i fought with them before even before the great war" Wanderer commented. "They''re stubborn fighters."

    The SWAT commander Zane, a man with short brown hair. with scar on his lips. nodded in agreement. "Yes, I''ve heard of them. They''re a small but fierce tribe, known for their brutality and their loyalty to their leader, Blood Khagan. They have hidden bunkers throughout the canyons and they are notoriously difficult to deal with. If they catch wind of us attacking their territory, they will surely put up a fight."

    "What do we do? We can invest time to defeat them before going to capture this oil derrick, or just ignore them," Wanderer suggested.

    Zane frowned in thought, weighing the options in his mind."Ignoring them might be a bad idea," the zane  said. "They''ve been known to launch surprise attacks on our supply lines before. And we can''t afford to lose any more resources. But attacking them also presents a risk. We don''t know how many of them there are or what kind of defenses they have."

    "Yes, indeed a dilemma," Wanderer mused. "How about talking to them first? Do SWAT like talking?"

    Zane chuckled. "Well, we''re not exactly known as the most diplomatic faction around. But I suppose we could try talking to them before outright attacking them. Can''t hurt to try, right?"

    As they spoke, some of the other SWAT members looked on with skepticism. The idea of talking to their enemies was not a popular one with some of the more hard-liners.

    "Good, a non-aggression pact seems good," Wanderer suggested.

    Zane nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yes, a non-aggression pact might be our best bet for now. We''ll send a small delegation to negotiate with them, and see if we can reach a compromise. with the following terms..."

    The other SWAT members looked somewhat mollified by the idea, though some still seemed uneasy. They weren''t used to negotiating with their enemies, but they knew that attacking the Blood Khaganate would likely lead to heavy casualties on both sides. they are remnant of the soldier of old world living on isolated mountain region in south. Qara Dagh (Black Mountain), once its was called a Alai and Pamir mountain. but after intense bombardment and radiation on great war, the mountain range turn into a dark color.

    Later, Wanderer''s drone followed the SWAT delegation from afar. The armored convoy passed through the ruins of an extinct settlement. The delegation finally reached the Blood Khaganate fort nestled among the valleys, their approach cautious and deliberate.

    wanderer had a bad history with them in past. so he use his toy to observe the meeting.his drone follow the delegation from afar. then the armored convoy passing the ruins,

    a dried limbs and body is hanged on the dead trees on the road while they closer to khagan fort. a grim spectacle.

    The valley narrowed sharply, the walls of the canyon closing in. At its end, perched on a rocky outcrop overlooking a sheer drop, stood the Khaganate fort. Red banners flapped from crude towers. Animal skulls and hides decorated the gate.  It was a bleak and lonely place, seemingly untouched by the passage of time

    As the SWAT delegation approached the Blood Khaganate fort, they were met by a formidable sight. The imposing figures of the Blood Khaganate warriors, clad in red armor and adorned with animal horns, stood guard at the entrance, their spears raised in a defensive stance.

    Despite the intimidating presence of the Blood Khaganate warriors, the SWAT delegation managed to negotiate a non-aggression pact.

    a Blood Khagan a man with a bull helmet come outside to meet with them. he agreed to the terms, but his eyes held a flicker of suspicion.

    As the delegation left the Blood Khaganate territory, Wanderer continued to monitor their movements through his drone. However, he was soon caught by one of the Blood Khaganate retainers, a man with deer helmet. who used an EMP spear to disrupt his drone''s signal. Wanderer, realizing he had been discovered, quickly maneuvered his drone out of range. but its too late and his drone crash to the forest

    ¡°fuck. nyooh. my drone!..¡± wanderer sigh after losing his expensive drone

    Later, after the SWAT commander received news of the successfully signed non-aggression pact with the Blood Khaganate, he turned his attention to the main objective. It was time to capture the True Horde oil derrick.

    while they preparing for incoming. attack. wanderer in his Mobile home still looking at his frayed drone after the recent emp attack by one blood khaganate lord retainer. wanderer pout while look at shizuka. looking for comfort

    Shizuka had been sitting next to him tinkering with her gear and keeping an eye on him.

    Seeing Wanderer''s pout, Shizuka put down her gear and gave him a small smile.

    "What''s the matter? Still brooding over that EMP attack on your drone?"

    Wanderer frown ¡°yes, i lost my eyes now..¡±

    Shizuka chuckled at Wanderer''s melodramatic lamentation. "Oh, come on. It''s not the end of the world. You''ve got plenty of replacement drones, right?"

    Wanderer sigh ¡°yes. but its.. my favorite drone..¡±

    Shizuka shakes her head in amusement, grinning at Wanderer''s attachment to his favorite drone.

    "Your favorite drone, huh? You''re such a sentimentalist, you know that?"

    Wanderer narrow his eyes ¡°im.. sentimental to everything.. now pat my head!¡±

    Shizuka chuckled at Wanderer''s request, but she did as he asked, reaching out to pat his head affectionately. "There there, you big baby. Don''t get too attached to material things. What matters is that you still have plenty of other drones to use."

    Wanderer sigh. look at empty seat on front, beside furqan. his favorite drone is frayed. and his lieutenant. Chrome are still on rest duty "its.. might not good day to fight"

    Shizuka notices Wanderer''s forlorn expression and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

    "Hey, don''t worry. We''ve been through tough times before, and we''ve always come out on top. And besides, I''m here with you."

    The desert stretched before them, an endless ochre canvas under a harsh sun. The empty seat beside Furqan spoke volumes. They were heading into battle shorthanded.

 Chapter 5 Crimson Sands

    Dust. sand. gravel hit their face. the vision is limit to few meter. bullet whizzling, occasionally a explosion from heard from right and right.

    in front of us was the true horde oil rig. we already surround them but suddenly the desert storm come to the area. turn the operation into a halt.

    Young recruits, their faces etched with fear and confusion, lay prone in the sand, their minds racing. How had they ended up here, this is not a adventure. its a hell.

    The mercenaries and SWAT forces were locked in a fierce battle against the True Horde defenders,

    Wanderer, his face partially obscured by a weathered scarf, stood atop the mobile car, and mount the machine gun

    Bullets whizzed past him, some striking close enough to send up puffs of dust around him. He took shoot. its was spray and pray. since he cant see the attacker. The enemy was relentless, their attacks coming from all sides.

    "Get inside!" Shizuka shouted from the driver''s seat, her voice barely audible over the din. Wanderer hesitated, taking one last shot before retreating to the relative safety of the armored vehicle. ¡°i see something more terrible in past. its nothing,¡± wanderer said while wipe his face

    Furqan, his face etched with concentration, stared at the blurry monitor. "We''ve lost visual contact with the drone," his voice filled with frustration.

    "Damn it," Wanderer muttered. "We have no eyes."

    He reached into his pocket, pulling out a spare drone, its was a insect type drone mimicking a dragonfly. With a quick flick of his wrist, he activated it and sent it soaring into the sky. But the new drone was unfamiliar, its controls not as responsive as his old one. It struggled to maneuver in the turbulent wind, its movements jerky and unpredictable. the wind is too strong. and its just useless

    "Damn it!" Wanderer swore, his frustration mounting. "God, please, help us."

    He popped out from the top of the mobile home, his vision obscured by the swirling sand and smoke. He could barely make out the outlines of the other vehicles in the convoy, let alone the enemy positions.

    He peered through the smoke, trying to get a sense of what was happening around them. The sounds of combat grew louder, the clatter of bullets echoing ominously around them.

    Wanderer furrowed his forehead. Silence enveloped him for a moment before he spoke into the comms. "We lost many cars... we can''t continue the assault."

    The SWAT commander''s voice crackled over the line, "Damnit, Wanderer. We need that oil derrick. We can''t just retreat now."

    Wanderer clenched his teeth, and then Taking a deep breath, he tried to keep his voice steady. "Yes, we will get the initiative after the sandstorm subsides."

    There was a pause on the other end before the SWAT commander replied, his voice still tense but resigned. "Fine. We''ll pull back. But as soon as the sandstorm passes, we''re going back in."

    "Good. Get ready for infantry to ready up!" he commanded, watching as the remaining vehicles retreated to a safe zone. The soldiers on foot stood by, their vision still limited by the swirling sands. "We will begin to attack them after the sandstorm is over. Stay calm,"

    As Wanderer sent the message, he could see their minds focusing on the task at hand. They took deep breaths, steadying themselves for the upcoming fight. The silence was broken only by the sound of retreating vehicles and random explosion

    ¡°Easy, boys. In the past, our ancestors fought in trenches for days without moving. Patience; we will kill them all soon.¡±

    Wanderer''s mind raced as the sandstorm subsided, revealing dozens of burning vehicles from both allies and enemies. The sounds of intense firefight had faded, replaced by distant skirmishes. Anxiety crept in, wondering if this could be a trap set by the True Horde. But the opportunity was too great to ignore. He turned to his team, his voice firm. "Let''s move out. Stay alert, and watch each other''s backs. T formation."

    Wanderer led the way, guiding his team toward the oil derrick. As they approached, the sight was imposing¡ªa massive structure, its sides covered in rust and grime. It was hard to imagine such a formidable obstacle amidst the desolate wasteland.

    Wanderer''s team looked at the oil derrick with a mix of awe and trepidation. The structure was enormous, dwarfing them in size. a dried bodies is hanged on each side of wall. and the gate edge is decorated with a 2 giant tusk. with a rusty metal door.

    "It''s bigger than in the picture," Wanderer remarked, glancing at Furqan. "You lead the second group; attack the gate. After that, the rest of the SWAT force will follow."

    Furqan nodded, led of the second group of mercs. Clad in a white exosuit, he moved forward, positioning his team to attack the gate. The rest of the SWAT force readied themselves for the main assault, moving methodically from cover to cover until they reached the gate. Meanwhile, Wanderer munched on a snack, waiting for them to get into position.

    He stayed alert, keeping an eye on his team while the tension in the air thickened. Soon enough, the sounds of gunfire and explosions erupted as the attack on the gate began.

    Then, the gate swung open, and a wave of mutant bikes with sidecars and a monster truck armed with a mounted machine gun surged through, firing indiscriminately. Wanderer watched in shock as the second group and SWAT forces were quickly overwhelmed.

    Screams filled the air as soldiers fell to the barrage of gunfire and explosions. The situation spiraled out of control, and Wanderer knew they needed to act fast if they wanted to survive. He sighed, nodding to himself. "Prepare the rockets. Hit them!"

    With a swift motion, Wanderer signaled his mercs to ready the rocket launchers. They aimed at the approaching enemy vehicles, waiting for the optimal range. "Fire!" he commanded.

    Explosions erupted, followed by another.a monster truck with giant wheel turn into a ball of flame. Only a few riders escaped into the horizon. "Furqan, do you still live?" Wanderer contacted him through the comm.

    For a moment, there was only static, then Furqan''s strained voice came through. "Barely. I''m alive, but we''ve taken heavy casualties."

    "Good. Stand by at the gate. We will be moving in," Wanderer instructed.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Furqan''s voice returned, tense but resolute. "Copy that. Standing by at the gate. Waiting for your signal."

    Wanderer then commanded Shizuka and the rest of the armored vehicles. "We will go all in."

    Shizuka starting up the armored vehicles and moving toward the oil derrick, followed closely by the rest of the mercs. Wanderer watched as they moved out, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it¡ªthe final push to take the derrick and hopefully turn the tide of the war.

    The armored cars lined up in front of the gate, with the infantry behind them, all battered and weary. "Alright, boys... this is it. We''ve cheated death many times. To the gate of heaven! Attack!"

    They charged through the gate, rifles firing and grenades exploding against the enemy. The fighting was fierce, bullets and shrapnel flying in every direction. The enemy was putting up a fight, but the mercs were determined to push through.

    Wanderer''s heart raced as he saw the horde of mutants approaching. He shouted to his men, urging them to stand strong against the incoming wave. "Hold the line! Don''t let them break through!" he commanded, gripping his rifle tightly

    The mutants drew closer, their twisted forms illuminated by the setting sun. Wanderer braced himself, waiting for the impact. Their monstrous appearances included large, misshapen heads, bulging eyes, and protruding tongues. They carried bows and aimed at Wanderer, who quickly dropped to the ground, taking cover behind a nearby body. A shot rang out, hitting him in the chest, but he pushed through the pain. After no mutants were standing, he muttered to himself, "Damn. They¡¯ve become more deranged than the last one."

    Wanderer watched the dozen mutants bodies in front of him, the sand turn into a dark crimson. inside the oil derrick facility. a sound of pumping machine is almost deafening.

    "We''ve got to keep pushing," he said, turning to his men. "We need to secure this place." As he spoke, another mutant emerged from the shadows behind the machines, its grotesque form barely visible in the dim light.

    The mutants continued to pour in, their numbers seemingly endless. Wanderer and his team fired their weapons, taking down as many as they could, but they couldn''t afford to lose momentum.

    They needed to keep pressing forward, to keep pushing toward their objective. Wanderer signaled to his men, gesturing for them to move up. They advanced, taking cover where they could and firing indiscriminately at anything that moved. The mutants continued to press in, their twisted forms closing in on the mercenaries. The mutants just running forward with their weapons like a wave, or bad game ai opponent

    "They''re breeding too many! Retreat to the open area! Retreat to the gate! Vehicles first! Go, move it!" Wanderer barked out commands,

    The mercenaries scrambled to follow Wanderer''s orders, and moving toward the open area around the gate. then the all vehicle led by Shizuka is then go outside the oil derrick area through the gate. while Furqan and Wanderer with the rest is hide on the creates, and low wall around the gate

    "Take cover! Check your ammo! Don¡¯t shoot before my command... trust me, I have an idea," Wanderer instructed.

    True Horde mutants closed in,they think wanderer trying to escape. Wanderer ordered the vehicles outside to turn back and get inside again. "Go, go... crush them!"

    The vehicles outside swung around and roared back through the gate, their engines growling as they charged toward the incoming mutants. The ground shook as they moved, their heavy weight crushing anything in their path. their spike and blade bumper is make their way.

    Wanderer watched as they plowed into the mutants, the impact sending them flying in all directions. Screams and howls filled the air as the vehicles continued their assault, crushing the True Horde mutants under their wheels.

    "Alright! Fire at will! Free for all!" Wanderer commanded.

    With his order, the mercenaries leaped into action. They opened fire on the remaining mutants, their bullets tearing into the twisted forms and sending them stumbling back. It was a brutal,

    A few minutes later, the chaos began to subside. "All clear!" someone shouted. "No one of them!" The surviving mercs and SWAT members started to lower their weapons, scanning the area for any signs of enemy movement..

    Later, the SWAT banner was replaced by the True Horde banner atop the oil derrick facility. a black fist symbol with blue background replace the crimson flag "We captured the place, sir," Wanderer reported to the SWAT commander who arrive to the scene.

    The SWAT commander, a man with one eyes nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. "Good job, Wanderer. You and your team have done well. The oil derrick is secure."

    "Yes... but we don¡¯t have enough men to guard this place. They will come to take it for sure," Wanderer replied,

    The SWAT commander frowned, his expression turning serious. "We need to figure out a way to hold it until reinforcements arrive." He turned to Wanderer, his gaze intense. "Can you spare any more men to hold this place?"

    Wanderer paused, his face unreadable. "¡­It means an extended tour."

    The SWAT commander looked at Wanderer, a resigned expression on his face. "I know it''s not ideal, but we don''t have much choice. We need all the help we can get to hold this place."

    Wanderer remained silent for a moment before nodding.

    Later that night, despite their exhaustion, many of the mercenaries and SWAT members still couldn¡¯t sleep. The air was thick with the aroma of mutants, a sharp scent that mingled with the smell of oil, creating an overwhelming perfume that clung to their senses. Some of them ended up resting in tents outside, just beside the pile of corpses

    A few soldiers sat around, trying to distract themselves with idle conversation or checking their weapons, while others remained silent, staring into the darkness, their faces etched with exhaustion

    As dawn broke, the scene shifted. Many of the corpses had already been buried. Wanderer made his way to the mass burial site,. As he approached, he see a small figure with white hair. kneeling in front of the burial site, its was Shizuka her head bowed in quiet reflection.

    "You did this alone?" he asked softly, walking slowly toward her.

    Startled from her thoughts, Shizuka looked up, quickly standing and wiping away a few tears from her eyes. "Yeah, I wanted to say a few words before they were buried," she replied, while wipe some dirt on her body

    "You know... you could have waited for the rest to help with the burial,".

    Shizuka shook her head, her expression resolute. "No, it''s okay. I wanted to do this myself. They deserve a proper burial."

    "Yes, even for the enemy?" he asked, curious about her perspective.

    Shizuka nodded, her eyes focused on the burial site. "Yes, even for them. They were once people, with families and lives of their own. They were twisted and corrupted, but they still deserve a proper burial."

    Wanderer considered her words, in death, they were all the same, regardless of the side they fought on.

    "People... you still see them as human, don¡¯t you?" he ask

    Shizuka hesitated before answering, her expression thoughtful. "Yes, I suppose I do," she said finally. "I know they''re mutated and changed, but they were still human once. They still had thoughts and feelings and families. I can''t see them as just mindless monsters."

    Wanderer studied her for a moment, appreciating her empathy. It was a rare trait in this world, and one that he admired.

    Meanwhile, at the top of a nearby cliff, a man with a deer helmet rise up. one of the Blood Khaganate lord''s retainers observed the scene, spear in hand. As the sun began to rise, he vanished from sight, leaving no trace behind.

    Reinforcements arrived shortly after, bringing additional manpower and supplies. They quickly got to work, erecting watchtowers, forming barricades, and reinforcing the perimeter of the facility. In the afternoon, a supply and oil truck rolled in, delivering even more reinforcements and equipment needed to extract the oil. until there is no more coming in.

    wanderer shake his head ¡°not enough..we need more men. ¡° but they close the gate, a 2 jeep coming in. among the driver is was a clumsy scout whom Wanderer recognized from a previous encounter in a warehouse. "No more soldiers?" he asked to him

    The scout gave an awkward smile and pointed to a jeep parked nearby. A man dismounted from the vehicle, carrying a long rifle on his back, clad in desert camouflage. He approached Wanderer, and from behind his mask, he spoke, "I''m Oboro. I was fascinated with your tale, Wanderer."

    Wanderer turned to face Oboro, narrowing his eyes as he took in the other man''s appearance. The rifle and camouflage spoke of his skills as a sniper, but it was his words that caught Wanderer''s attention.

    "You''ve been listening to stories about me, have you?" Wanderer asked, his tone guarded.

    Oboro nodded, his eyes fixed on Wanderer''s face. There was a gleam of admiration in his gaze that was both unsettling and intriguing. "Yes, I have. You''ve become quite the legend in the mercenary world. They speak of your strategic mind and your unique tactics... and your mysterious mask."

    "Hah, I almost died multiple times, including yesterday," he said, raising his eyebrows and smirking behind his mask "Who knows about tomorrow..."

    Oboro chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, but that''s what makes you interesting. The sheer odds you''ve beaten. Anyone else would have given up or died multiple times already. But not you."

    Wanderer shrugged, his gaze flickering to the busy activity around them. He was used to dealing with admirers and curious individuals, but there was something about Oboro that felt different. There was a sense of understanding in his eyes, a depth to his interest that went beyond mere curiosity.

    "So... why are you here? Do you have a death wish?" Wanderer asked,

    Oboro let out a low chuckle at Wanderer''s words, his expression turning serious. "Not a death wish," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "Just a desire to see the world and experience its chaos firsthand."

    Wanderer studied him for a moment, trying to gauge the man. There was a hint of excitement and recklessness in Oboro, but also a sense of control and discipline behind it.

    Wanderer smiled and chuckled. "Alright, man... good luck." He tapped Oboro''s shoulder and moved away, leaving the sniper to ponder his words.

    Oboro gave a nod of thanks and a small smirk, his eyes following Wanderer as he walked away. Intrigued by Wanderer''s cryptic words and nonchalant attitude, he wondered what kind of man could remain so calm and collected in the face of such danger, and what secrets lay hidden behind that mask.

 Chapter 6 The Kilometer Shot

    ¡°The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain and appreciate.¡± The words echoed in Wanderer¡¯s mind as he surveyed the scene before him. The troops gathered around a small fire, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames, sharing a rare meal of jerky.

    while other enjoy their time on the gooning tent. spending their time on the flashy entertainment

    As the days passed, the operation at the newly named facility, Sentinel, became increasingly intense. Oil trucks came and went, but the reports from the drivers grew more concerning. They spoke of relentless attacks from mutants along the way, with the danger escalating each day. The their parked trucks filled by hole from bullets and arrows sticking out,

    Wanderer stood at the forefront of the facility, his expression serious. ¡°We must do a counterattack to hunt their war camp nearby,¡±

    The need for action was clear, and a small group of trained mercenaries was quickly assembled for the mission, with Wanderer taking the lead, operating without the SWAT commander¡¯s orders.

    Among the group was Oboro, a stoic figure whose eyes burned with determination. He was eager to prove his worth and capabilities in this mission, and Wanderer could sense the resolve radiating from him. As the small group led by Furqan moved out from the facility, they traversed a desert, sandstorms visible on the horizon.

    Wanderer watched from the high ground, observing their movements through binoculars, As the group climbed a plateau, they spotted a small mutant base in the distance,filled by tent and cars, its about one kilometer away. However, between them and the base, a mutant patrolled among the boulders and bushes. The small group quickly ducked behind some rocks, trying to stay hidden while they assessed the situation.

    ¡°Enemy found,¡± Furqan reported back to Wanderer, his voice tense. ¡°But our weapons are out of range, especially with this strong wind. We will need to get closer.¡±

    Oboro, however, had a different plan. ¡°I can take out all of them,¡± he said,

    Wanderer turned to him, a mixture of surprise and skepticism crossing his face. He knew the long rifle was powerful, but hitting multiple targets from over a kilometer away in the desert? It was a bold claim. ¡°Can you?¡± he asked, his tone skeptical. ¡°You¡¯re confident you can take them all out from this distance, in these wind conditions?¡±

    Oboro smiled slightly beneath his desert pattern mask, nodding confidently. ¡°I can. I¡¯ve done it before. I know where to aim to account for the wind and distance. I¡¯ll take them all down before they even realize what¡¯s happening.¡±

    Wanderer studied him for a moment, With a low sigh, he nodded, deciding to trust his judgment. ¡°Alright. Take the shot. If you can take them out, it¡¯ll make our job a lot easier.¡±

    Oboro settled into a prone position, taking aim with his long rifle. The other fighters watched with a mix of admiration and wariness, wondering if he could really pull this off. He took a deep breath, steadied the rifle against his shoulder, and squinted through the scope, adjusting for the wind and distance.

    Seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity as Oboro kept the gun steady, his focus unwavering. Suddenly, he fired, the shot ringing out in the desert air. like a thunder

    For a moment, there was silence, and then... a distant explosion. the others watched in awe as the base in the distance erupted into flames.

    Wanderer jaw drop, then focusing on his binocular. Oboro was hit the ammo box, then he continue shooting.

    The mutants guarding the perimeter dropped dead one by one, each hit by Oboro¡¯s precise shots.

    The small group exchanged astonished glances, clearly impressed by Oboro¡¯s shooting skills.. Oboro calmly lowered his rifle, a satisfied smirk on his face. mission is mission accomplished, by one man.

    Later, as they returned to the Sentinel facility, Wanderer waited at the gate, arms crossed, a look of contemplation on his face. When Oboro approached, ¡°So... what are you?¡±

    ¡°what i am?¡±

    Wanderer leaned against the rough wall of the facility, his eyes narrowing as he studied Oboro. ¡°You know what I mean. You must be some kind of spec ops... or an artifact wielder.¡±

    Oboro nodded slowly, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re perceptive,¡± he replied. ¡°I¡¯m a special ops agent, that¡¯s true. But not just any kind. You might say I have... a unique set of abilities.¡±

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°I see. Can we check that... abilities?¡±

    Oboro quirked an eyebrow at the question, clearly not expecting to be put on the spot. A small smirk played on his lips. ¡°Sure, why not? I suppose I could show off a bit. What did you have in mind?¡±

    Wanderer leaned in slightly, curiosity piqued. ¡°So... what is special? Your eyes? Or just simply your rifle?¡±

    Oboro let out a scoff, amusement dancing in his eyes. ¡°My eyes, huh? What, I have superhuman vision?¡± he chuckled. ¡°My rifle is powerful, yes, but it¡¯s not the only thing that sets me apart.¡± He paused, gauging Wanderer¡¯s interest before continuing. ¡°I have a unique ability to perceive and analyze things in ways that others can¡¯t. I can see patterns where others don¡¯t. It helps me react faster and anticipate moves.¡±

    ¡°Mhmh... so in short, you¡¯re smarter than the average human,¡± Wanderer summarized,

    Oboro snorted slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. ¡°Something like that,¡± he replied, a small smirk forming. ¡°But it¡¯s not just intellect. There¡¯s a certain sixth sense I have. Call it intuition or instinct, but it allows me to see opportunities and dangers that others might miss.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Wanderer¡¯s expression shifted, curiosity morphing into skepticism. ¡°... Do you even human?¡±

    Oboro was caught off guard by the question, but he maintained his composure. ¡°What do you mean? Of course I¡¯m human,¡± he said calmly. ¡°Just not your average one.¡±

    ¡°Half mutant?¡± Wanderer ventured, a teasing tone in his voice.

    Oboro laughed, shaking his head. ¡°No, not half mutant. I was born human, just like you,¡± he clarified. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, my skills might seem superhuman, but they¡¯re the result of extensive training and a unique way of processing information. I¡¯m not a mutant. Just... different.¡±

    Wanderer nodded, reflecting on the nature of soldiers he had encountered in the past. ¡°I see... those special soldiers do their job in the battlefield. I¡¯ve met many of them, as friends or foes, but they cheat... they use genetic mutation or just simply put some steel on their bodies.¡±

    Oboro leaned casually on his rifle, his gaze distant as he recalled past encounters. ¡°I hear ya. I¡¯ve met my share of ¡®enhancing soldiers¡¯ too. Some use genetics, others rely on cybernetics. It¡¯s all part of the arms race, each side striving for an advantage. But I don¡¯t roll that way. I¡¯m natural, buddy. I don¡¯t need to cheat or rely on artificial enhancements. I trust my own abilities and intelligence to get the job done.¡±

    Wanderer looked at the other faces around them before meeting Oboro¡¯s gaze again. ¡°Do you think we believe that?¡±

    Oboro narrowed his eyes slightly, a playful challenge in his expression. ¡°Now why wouldn¡¯t you believe me?¡± he replied, his voice laced with mock innocence. ¡°I¡¯ve done my part, haven¡¯t I? Took out those mutants like it was nothing. No genetic mutations, no cybernetic implants. Just me, my rifle, and my wits.¡±

    ¡°Alright... Oboro,¡± Wanderer said. ¡°had a good cold drink inside. We might use your... so-called normal ability again next time.¡±

    Oboro let out a small laugh, appreciating Wanderer¡¯s dry sense of humor. He gave a lazy salute and nodded. ¡°You got it, boss. I¡¯ll be around if you need me. And I¡¯ll be happy to ¡®use my normal ability¡¯ again if it helps the team.¡± With that, he turned and headed inside the facility, his rifle slung over his shoulder,

    Later, as most of the fighters returned to their quarters, a desert storm approached once again, the second one that day. Before they were forced to retreat inside, Wanderer caught Shizuka¡¯s gaze. ¡°Do you think he might be half mutant like you?¡±

    Shizuka stood beside Wanderer, looking out into the windy sandstorm. She considered his question thoughtfully. ¡°Hard to say. Oboro has a certain air about him, a sort of confidence and precision that¡¯s unusual, even among highly trained operatives. He might have something going on under the surface.¡±

    Wanderer chuckled, teasingly. ¡°Heh, so you can¡¯t... like feel your own species, huh?¡±

    Shizuka quirked a small smile, appreciating Wanderer¡¯s teasing. ¡°It¡¯s not like I have a mutant-radar in my head, you know,¡± she replied dryly. ¡°I can sense when someone¡¯s genetic makeup is off, but that doesn¡¯t necessarily mean they¡¯re half-mutant. Maybe Oboro¡¯s just really good at what he does.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just believe that for a moment,¡± Wanderer said, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°And I need another massage.¡±

    Shizuka rolled her eyes but chuckled nonetheless. ¡°What, am I your personal masseuse now?¡± she teased, a hint of amusement in her voice. ¡°It seems like you¡¯re always asking for massages these days.¡±

    Wanderer pouted, and Shizuka let out a small laugh at his childishness. ¡°Come on, don¡¯t give me that face,¡± she chided, smirking. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a massage, but you gotta stop acting like a big baby.¡±

    ¡°Good. But I¡¯m indeed a big baby,¡± Wanderer replied,

    Shizuka shook her head, a mixture of fondness and disbelief on her features. ¡°That you are,¡± she said with a small smile. ¡°But it¡¯s part of your charm, I suppose. Now, come on. Let¡¯s find a quiet spot for your massage before the storm gets worse.¡±

    The SWAT barracks were a cacophony of competing entertainment systems. Some soldiers were engrossed in VR simulations advertised, others were gambling on virtual anime girl fight streamed by and still others were watching personalized entertainment feeds curated by Sin vision, with mindless entertainment¡ªgames and explicit content flickering on screens. As they passed the med bay, they witnessed soldiers receiving their daily doses of drugs, a sight that had become all too normal for them.

    The duo continued until they reached the merc quarters, which were quieter than the rest of the facility. The faint sounds of music and the strumming of guitars floated through the air. Eventually, they arrived at Shizuka''s room. Without hesitation, Wanderer jumped onto the bed, removing his worn out cloak with a flourish. "Quickly. Mhm, nom," he exclaimed, settling in.

    Shizuka laughed softly, watching him with amusement. "Impatient as always, aren''t you?" she teased, a smile lighting up her face. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside him, her hands instinctively reaching out to knead his tense muscles.

    "Aghhh! So good... I need that," Wanderer sighed, leaning into her touch.

    Shizuka continued her work, her hands firm yet gentle as they worked out the knots in his back and shoulders. She smirked, enjoying the sounds of contentment that escaped him. "Yeah, I know you do. You''re like a walking muscle knot most of the time."

    "Yes, thanks to my so normal job," he replied with a chuckle.

    Shizuka laughed again, shaking her head. "Yeah, your totally not stressful at all job," she said sarcastically. "No wonder you''re in such a state. I swear, sometimes I wonder how you''d function without me."

    "Mmhh... stop being cocky like that. It was my second nature, even before we met. But I should admit, my life is indeed better after we met," Wanderer confessed, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the massage.

    Shizuka paused, a small smile playing on her lips as she looked at him. Genuine affection shone in her gaze. "Hmm, I''ll stop being cocky when you stop being a walking ball of tension," she said lightly. "And yeah, maybe your life is better since I came along, but only because you''d be a mess otherwise."

    As Wanderer began to drift off, his comm device suddenly came to life, startling him. He accepted the call, and the gruff voice of the old commander filled the room. "Remember the scout? He¡¯s stranded in enemy territory. Find him and bring him back."

    Wanderer furrowed his brow. "Ah, that guy... Do you think I will risk my men only for one guy?"

    The old commander¡¯s voice grew stern. "We can''t leave anyone behind! Do you hear me?"

    Wanderer sighed, feeling the weight of the command. "Alright... show me the last location. And don¡¯t blame me if this facility weakens after my departure."

    "Don''t tell me something obvious. Just bring me the scout, dead or alive. Do you understand?" the commander barked.

    Wanderer sighed again before responding, "Damn right... just put extra on my payment. Out."

    Shizuka watched as Wanderer¡¯s comm went silent, sensing his frustration. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Let me guess... the old commander wants you to risk your neck for some scout that''s stranded in enemy territory?"

    Wanderer narrowed his eyes. "They send us on too many silly missions, but this is the most outrageous."

    Shizuka rolled her eyes, stopping her massage and crossing her arms. "Risking your men''s lives just to retrieve some stupid scout? Yeah, that does sound outrageous," she said, frustration clear in her voice. "Sometimes I wonder why you even put up with the old commander''s orders, Wanderer."

    Wanderer sighed deeply. "It''s... more like an old promise. I actually start to question my own sanity. It all started after the Great War. I helped establish a military order to keep law in the wasteland, but as time went by, people came and went, and this order became a literal joke."

    Shizuka listened intently, her expression softening. "That... actually makes a lot of sense," she said quietly. "You wanted to help rebuild the wasteland after the war, but the world had other plans. I can see why you''d question your own sanity dealing with all this stupidity."

    Wanderer chuckled lightly. "Hehe... stop seeing me like a victim! I''m the Great Wanderer!"

    Shizuka smirked at his playful protest, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, I''m sorry, Mr. Great Wanderer. I forgot that you''re the toughest, most stoic mercenary in the wasteland. No need to be a victim when you''re the big, bad Wanderer, right?"

    "Good... order the men. We will be rolling," he said,

    Shizuka nodded, standing up from the bed. "Alright, I''ll gather the men and prepare for the mission. You just make sure you''re ready for some action, Wanderer."

    With that, she left the room, leaving Wanderer to gather his thoughts, the weight of the mission ahead pressing down on him.

 Chapter 7 Saving Private Ryan... Sort Of

    The flickering neon sign above the hall buzzed, casting long shadows across the motley crowd. A man in worn SWAT gear, seemingly oblivious to the general air of seediness, held out a handful of glossy brochures.

    ¡°worshiping porn is always the best thing you could be doing with your time., you¡¯ve given into it so much that might as well be your religion and like any good religion its so much better worshiped with a congregation so go out and spread the word of porn our god. corrupt other who are unaware of her glory!¡±

    A low murmur rippled through the hall.¡°but this place ironically is more democratic than free world..¡± someone muttered.

    "Yeah," another voice chimed in.  ¡°in here we can bribe popo and politician with little money.. but in free world. only big money who can bribe them¡±

    ¡°so. are you hungry?¡±

    ¡°no,,¡±

    ¡°good. im hungry too! ¡°

    Wanderer strode through the hall, his gaze sweeping over the scene.  ¡°people will do anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own souls, having enemy. find them and kill them is easier than pondering the purpose of life¡±

    The mercenaries'' vehicles began to roll out of the Sentinel facility, a cloud of dust rising behind them as armored trucks, dirt bikes, and makeshift Mad Max-style cars kicked up debris along the way. Wanderer had kept the main objective to himself, sharing only the details with Furqan and Shizuka to maintain order among the ranks. the merc will going crazy if they know their purpose just for saving one man in deep enemy territory

    In the command vehicle,the mobile home.  Furqan''s voice broke the tension. "SWAT has always seen their men as cannon fodder. That¡¯s no secret. Do you really think risking your best merc to save a scout isn¡¯t suspicious at all?"

    Wanderer kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead, while Shizuka, driving, stole glances at him, her interest piqued. With a sigh, Wanderer replied, "Damn... I don¡¯t know."

    Shizuka''s eyes narrowed slightly. "So you''re saying you don''t know whether this whole mission stinks to high heaven or not? You''re just going along with the old commander''s orders without a second thought?"

    "He won¡¯t trash us... no, never. I know that man," Wanderer asserted,

    Shizuka raised an eyebrow at his confidence, but doubt lingered in her expression. "You''re awfully sure of that, Wanderer. But the old commander sees his own men as cannon fodder. What makes you so convinced he wouldn''t toss us aside if the situation calls for it?"

    Wanderer cleared his throat. "We¡¯ve worked together for years¡ªhigh and low. I¡¯ve saved his ass multiple times. He¡¯s not that kind of person. He might be ruthless, but it¡¯s always with reason."

    Shizuka listened, her expression softening slightly, though skepticism remained. "I see. You''ve had each other''s backs multiple times. But you can¡¯t deny he¡¯s cold and ruthless. I just hope you¡¯re right about him not being the kind to toss us aside for his own gain."

    Wanderer lowered his gaze, contemplating something as he glanced at the gauges. "Let¡¯s take a course of action after we find this clumsy scout."

    Shizuka nodded in agreement, "Alright. Once we find this guy, we¡¯ll figure out our next move. Just hope he¡¯s still alive and in one piece,"

    Later, they reached the designated area where the lost scout had sent his last transmission. The ground was darker and crusty, littered with the ruins of what was once a town. Most of the asphalt road remained intact as Wanderer¡¯s convoy stopped on the outskirts. A True Horde banner, purple with three claws, flapped ominously in the wind.

    Wanderer dismounted from the vehicle and launched his drone into the air. The aerial view revealed nearby mutant patrols and clusters. "Hmm... judging by the situation, this scout is likely trapped in the old city hall while a sandstorm rages outside. He probably doesn¡¯t realize the place is crawling with mutants. There¡¯s no other way to rescue him but with a bang."

    Shizuka exited the vehicle and joined Wanderer¡¯s side, her frown deepening as she assessed the dangerous situation. "Looks like you¡¯re right about the scout being trapped in the city hall. We¡¯ll have to go in guns blazing if we want to save him. Not the most subtle approach, but I suppose there are no other options with those mutants lurking around."

    "Yes... Oboro, let¡¯s use your so-called normal ability to cover our rear from that vantage point. Furqan will lead the main force into the town hall, while Shizuka and the rest of the light cars will act as backup and the surprise element," Wanderer instructed.

    Oboro, the exiled operative with his invisible cloak, nodded and vanished from sight, heading to the vantage point to keep watch. Furqan stepped forward, his face stoic as he accepted the assignment. "Understood," he said, preparing himself.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Shizuka looked at Wanderer¡¯s instructions and nodded, determination glinting in her eyes. "We¡¯ll provide backup and surprise the mutants with our light cars," she affirmed.

    Wanderer smirked at Oboro¡¯s cloak. "Nice tech," he remarked before turning to the others. "Alright, listen up. Be careful about traps and explosives. Watch those corners and windows. Always take cover behind the armored vehicles. And always remember... have fun!"

    Oboro grinned slightly under his cloak at Wanderer¡¯s comment. Meanwhile, Furqan and the rest of the group listened intently, nodding in understanding. Shizuka raised an eyebrow at Wanderer¡¯s final comment, but a grin crept onto her face. "Have fun while dealing with mutant-infested streets and a missing scout? Sounds like a party," she said, sarcasm lacing her voice.

    The armored column began rolling over the cracked asphalt, infantry following closely behind. The sound of engines filled the air, and the mutants scrambled to the rooftops upon hearing the commotion. With deadly accuracy, Oboro took down mutant after mutant, clearing the way ahead.

    As the convoy moved forward, the true horde of wolf riders and other mutants sprang from the alleyways and rooftops, attempting to ambush them.

    Wanderer observed the scene from the monitor in the command vehicle. His drone provided him with a real-time tactical advantage, allowing him to relay orders to each individual soldier with precision. "Grunt 23, go to the building on your left. Grunt 45, 66, and 72, watch your backs. Incoming rocketeer in the alleyway!"

    Shizuka glanced at Wanderer, impressed by his ability to maintain control amidst the turmoil. The soldiers responded to his orders, moving to their designated positions and engaging the mutants. Grunt 23 dashed toward the building on the left, while Grunts 45, 66, and 72 braced themselves for the incoming threat.

    As the sky began to turn a fiery orange-yellow, the fight raged on. Bodies started to pile up on the cracked street, and Wanderer''s forces began to take casualties. He noticed a large group of mutants, deformed and menacing, maneuvering to attack Furqan''s force from alleyway. Turning to Shizuka, he said, "Alright, it¡¯s our time. We will flank the flanking enemy."

    When Furqan''s force started to encircle, Shizuka led the light car column, slamming into the mutants from behind. The suddenness of the attack caught the mutants off guard, and many were annihilated before they even had a chance to react.

    Shizuka steered the light car with precision and speed dodging the rusty wrecks and barricade,. Bullets flew, and mutants fell as she drove straight into the heart of the ambush. The surprise attack from behind was devastating, and the mutants scrambled to respond, but it was too late.

    Later, Wanderer opened the top hatch of his vehicle, surveying the aftermath of the brutal encounter. The ground was a surreal mix of dust, blood, and the remnants of battle. He could see the tips of his soldiers'' weapons glowing red from the heat of gunfire. "Wow... this is hell," he muttered, stepping down from the car. a splat when his boot hit the ground

    Shizuka dismounted as well, her expression a mix of awe and revulsion. The scene was chaotic and gruesome, with bodies and scarlet debris scattered everywhere.. "This is... hell," she gasped, her voice strained. "I''ve never seen anything like this."

    "Yes, me too," Wanderer replied, his tone somber. "They cramped in the same area." He nodded at a nearby soldier, patting him on the back. "Good job, you all are legendary. We all are..."

    The soldier nodded, a weary but grateful expression on his face. "Thanks, sir. We did our best out there. But I never thought it would be this intense."

    "Alright, clean your wounds and stretch immediately. We don¡¯t want to get any mutations from their... substances. After that, we press on before dark," Wanderer instructed,

    . "Yes, sir," they replied in unison. "We''ll take care of ourselves and be ready to press on soon."

    "Good boys," Wanderer said, watching as they began to clean their wounds and prepare for the next leg of their journey. Their spirits seemed lifted by his words of praise.

    "We''re ready when you are, sir," one soldier said, determination in his voice.

    "Good. Let¡¯s roll! Just a little bit further, and we will go home," Wanderer encouraged, his own resolve strengthening.

    The soldiers moved back toward the light cars, their movements weary but their spirits lifted. "Let¡¯s get this done," one of them echoed Wanderer¡¯s words. "Just a little bit further, and we¡¯ll be home free."

    Later, they arrived at the designated scout location, an old town hall from a bygone era. "This is it," Wanderer said, launching a second, smaller drone into the air. the dragonfly drone, This one was designed to slip through the town hall''s windows and openings, scanning each room. He soon spotted a man inside, pistol in hand. The figure didn¡¯t look like a mutant, but they couldn¡¯t be sure what lay behind the mask.

    Wanderer spoke through the drone''s speaker, "We are SWAT mercs. Identify yourself."

    The figure turned towards the drone, tensing at the unexpected voice. "Who¡¯s asking?" came the guarded response.

    "Wanderer," he replied quickly. The figure hesitated, lowering their pistol slightly but still appearing on edge. "You... follow me?" they asked.

    Wanderer sighed, realizing that if this was the scout he was looking for, he needed to tread carefully. "Yes, you idiot. But more precisely, it¡¯s more epic than that ancient film ''Saving Private Ryan.'' We¡¯re going to send you back home."

    The scout paused, shaking his head. "No... I prefer to die in here, eaten by freaks."

    Wanderer furrowed his brows, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Your commander directly ordered me¡ªhis best merc¡ªto save you. At least show some gratitude, man."

    The scout shook his head again. "No, you don¡¯t understand. It¡¯s not about me as a scout; it¡¯s about the mutiny and corruption within SWAT. You... you won¡¯t believe my story, and you don¡¯t even care."

    Wanderer listened, disbelief etched on his face. "What are you talking about? A mutiny within SWAT? Corruption?" His skepticism was palpable. "You¡¯re making a lot of claims there, buddy. You better have some damn good evidence to back it up."

    The scout stammered behind the mask, finally pointing to his head. "It¡¯s... it¡¯s in here now."

    "In your brain? Hah." Wanderer sighed again, frustration mingling with curiosity. "Just... hold on, okay?" He turned his head away from the monitor, lost in contemplation.

    Wanderer refocused on the monitor, his mind racing with thoughts. Could the scout be telling the truth? Was there really corruption within SWAT, or was he simply delusional from trauma and stress?

    "I need to hear his story. I need to know what he knows," he muttered to himself, the decision made.

    The scout''s voice trembled slightly, but he seemed calmer now that Wanderer had chosen to listen. "So, start talking," Wanderer commanded, his tone firm. "I want to know everything. Don''t leave out any details."

    The scout began, "It''s all part of the old commander''s game. The reason you''re here, and why he put possible mutiny forces on dangerous missions, is just to clean up the mess he made."

    Wanderer shook his head. "No... let¡¯s assume that¡¯s the truth. Then why would he trash me? He knows he can¡¯t win the war without me."

    The scout fell silent for a moment before responding, "That... I don¡¯t know either. But all we know is that they just prolong the war and keep everyone as his enemy. It¡¯s all just their game."

    Wanderer''s expression darkened as he processed the scout''s explanation. The thought that the old commander, someone he had trusted and worked alongside, could be so manipulative and treacherous was hard to swallow. "So, you''re telling me that the old commander is just using us as pawns in some twisted game? That he''s prolonging the war and pitting us against each other? It doesn''t make any sense. What''s his endgame here?"

    The scout hesitated, his voice shaky and uncertain. "I don¡¯t know... I don¡¯t know what he¡¯s planning. But I do know that he¡¯s willing to do anything to stay in power. And if that means sacrificing us, then he will do it without a second thought. That¡¯s the kind of person he is."

    Wanderer nodded, "I know his position... sacrifice is necessary. Now stop being rebellious and follow us back to base."

    The scout''s reply came quickly, filled with resignation. "Fine. I''ll go with you. But I can''t guarantee that I won''t try to escape again."

    Wanderer chuckled lightly, "Hah... so bad, boy."

 Chapter 8 The Intel Run

    The interface, a crude projection against the wall, displayed a a white pixelated cat in black background appear. A synthesized voice emanated from the device..

    ¡°are you going to donate 100.000 credit to improve popo level to 10 commitment? (increase up to 20% immune debuff to bribe)¡±

    ¡°yes. black cat. i told you.. dont ask me twice.. just do it. ¡± a hint of irritation on wanderer voice

    ¡°transfer successful, do you like check our latest weapon? we good flame thrower can burn freak skin up to 70 meters!. only 2000 credit¡±

    ¡°no. thanks.. im out.¡± Wanderer turned away from the terminal.

    Two SWAT officers watched him go. ¡°look at him. he should better invest on the better tool than broken police system¡±

    The other shrugged. ¡°well..he just think if burden of whole world on his shoulder¡±

    later. wanderer on reach the new constructed office area, its was astonishing just month ago. this place just a smelly oil derrick run by mutant. but now was a advanced small city. upon reach a room. there is a screen on wall. its says.

    possible career options for incompetent infantry

    landmine finder

    gas mask tester

    radiation scout

    live organ donor

    latrine builder

    fiction writer

    then wanderer turn his attention to a person in desk. a one eyed SWAT commander. The commander nodded approvingly as he reported the mission. "Good job as always, Wanderer. This scout will be sent to a retraining facility for his actions. The reward will be transferred to your account."

    Wanderer nodded, though a hint of irritation flickered in his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I still haven''t talked to the old commander."

    The SWAT commander raised an eyebrow. "Why so, Wanderer?"

    Wanderer closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I just... feel irritated, you know? Risking my force just for one guy."

    The SWAT commander nodded in understanding. "I can feel that. But let me assure you, his decisions are always for the greater good."

    "Alright. I''ll trust you on that."

    Days passed, and Wanderer never saw the scout again at the base. Rumors circulated that the young man had been reassigned to a breeding house somewhere in the sentinel.

    Later, Wanderer was in his office, attempting to relax with some soft music and his small reconnaissance drone. The old commander, a bulky, older man, entered without warning. Wanderer quickly landed the drone in his hand, startled. "Damn... you should send a message first if you want to come here."

    The old commander grinned, chuckling at Wanderer''s surprise. "Ah, Wanderer. Always vigilant, aren''t you? I like that." He approached the desk and took a seat across from him. "I figured I''d drop in unannounced. I have something I wanted to discuss with you."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "What? Destroying some random freak town again?"

    The commander''s smile faded, replaced by a serious expression. "No, no, nothing like that. This is something a bit more... delicate." He leaned forward, his gaze intense. "I need you to do something for me, Wanderer. A special operation. But it won''t be easy. It will require all of your skills to complete."

    Wanderer crossed his arms, "Humpf... that sounds like the same thing, just with a different package."

    The old commander rolled his eyes. "You really are difficult sometimes, Wanderer. Just listen to me, will you? This isn''t your typical raid. This is something different." He leaned even closer, his expression serious. "It''s a stealth operation. We need you to infiltrate a highly secure location and obtain a crucial piece of intel. Can you handle that?"

    Wanderer shook his head. "No... you know I''m very bad at infiltration missions. You know me. I go in with a bang."

    The old commander sighed, shaking his head. "Yes, yes, I am aware of your rather... direct approach to things, Wanderer. But sometimes, subtlety is required. This particular mission calls for it. And I''m afraid you''re the only one I can trust to do it."

    "Alright... I''m listening,"

    The old commander nodded, a satisfied look on his face. "Good, good. Glad to see you''re willing to listen. Now, here''s the situation." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small data chip, placing it on the desk between them. "The target is a heavily fortified base, located deep in enemy territory. It''s swarming with guards and equipped with some of the most advanced security systems around. But that''s not even the hardest part."

    Wanderer smirked. "Sounds like a very easy task, doesn''t it?"

    The old commander''s expression turned grim. "Oh, if only it were that simple. The base is also defended by a group of highly skilled and well-trained special forces. They are some of the toughest fighters I''ve ever seen. And to top it all off, the base is also protected by some of the most advanced defensive systems available." He took a deep breath, looking Wanderer dead in the eye. "This won''t be a cakewalk, Wanderer. This will be a challenge. Are you sure you''re up for it?"

    Wanderer chuckled lightly. "Hehe. No."

    The old commander rubbed his forehead, frustration evident. "Come on, Wanderer. Don''t be like that. You''re the best I''ve got, and I need you on this mission. Trust me, if there was someone else I could send, I would. But there isn''t. You''re the only one I can count on."

    The commander leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Wanderer''s. "Please, Wanderer. I''m begging you. I need you to do this. For me, and for the faction."If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Wanderer shook his head, a frown creasing his brow. "It''s just a recipe for disaster. I mean, I''m not a spec ops man. I''m just an expert at shooting anything that moves. This kind of job is more suitable for assassins than soldiers like me."

    The commander''s sighed again. "I know, I know. But we don''t have anyone else, Wanderer. All our assassins and stealth specialists are already deployed on other missions. There''s no one else who can do this, except for you."

    He stood up, beginning to pace the room. "Listen to me, Wanderer. I''m not asking you to do this because it''s easy. I''m asking you because it''s important. We need that intel, and the only way to get it is by infiltrating the base."

    Wanderer crossed his arms, "What is this? What¡¯s in your mind? Why not just open up with me? I''m only one person in this entire scum-whipping annihilation task force, who you can trust. Open with me, man. What¡¯s in your dream?"

    The commander stopped pacing and looked at Wanderer, his expression grave. "Alright, fine. But trust me, you''re not gonna like what I have to say." He took a deep breath, his voice low and serious. "We''ve received intel that the base is not just any base. It''s a weapons development facility. And they''re working on something¡ªsomething top secret. Something that could change the entire course of the war. And we need to know what it is."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "It might just be another fertilizer," he replied, spinning his chair slightly.

    The commander laughed humorlessly. "Oh, if only it were that simple. I wish it were just some harmless fertilizer. But no, this is much worse. It''s a weapon, Wanderer. A deadly one. One that could wipe out whole cities in an instant."

    Wanderer leaned back. "What? A nuke? Weather manipulation? Mind control? Do we have all of that in the past?" He spun his chair again, trying to process the gravity of the situation.

    The commander shook his head firmly. "No, no, no. None of those. This is something new, something we''ve never seen before. It''s something that could rewrite the rules of engagement, something that could turn the tide of the war in our favor or our enemies''."

    He leaned forward. "That''s why we need that intel, Wanderer. We need to know what they''re developing before they unleash it on the world. And that''s why I need you to infiltrate the base and get it for us."

    Wanderer stopped spinning his chair, meeting the commander''s gaze. "Just tell me what this is."

    The commander took a deep breath, clearly hesitant to reveal too much. "I can''t tell you everything, Wanderer. But what I can tell you is that it''s some kind of biological weapon. A weapon that can target specific genetic traits and alter them. A weapon that can change people. And not in a good way."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Interesting..." He spun his chair again, contemplating the implications. "I will think about it."

    The commander''s frustration was evident as he sighed. "Wanderer, this isn''t a joke. This isn''t something to be taken lightly. If that weapon falls into the wrong hands, if our enemies get their hands on it, it could mean the end of us all. Don''t you understand that?"

    Wanderer nodded slowly. "Yes, but I need to think if I''m capable of pulling it off or not. Because if I fail, it might encourage them to process the weapon faster."

    The commander''s expression hardened again. "I understand your concern, Wanderer, but we don''t have time to think. We need that intel as soon as possible. The longer we wait, the more likely it is that they''ll finish the weapon and use it against us. And we can''t afford that. We can''t let them win."

    "How do you know all of this? Is it from that scout?"

    The commander nodded, confirming Wanderer''s suspicion. "Yes, we received the information from a scout. He managed to infiltrate the base and gather some intelligence before he was discovered and had to escape. He gave us some crucial information, but not everything we need. That''s why we need you, Wanderer. We need you to go in and get the rest."

    Wanderer considered this for a moment. "Hmm... interesting indeed. But I have a request. I want that scout on my team."

    The commander raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by Wanderer''s request. "You want the scout? Why? He''s already served his purpose; we got the information we needed from him. And besides, he''s not a fighting man. He''s a scout, a spy, not a warrior."

    "Yes, but he might know more about this base than anyone else. I need him for this so-called infiltration mission,"

    The commander narrowed his eyes, "Alright, fine. I''ll assign the scout to your team. But just so you know, he''s not a soldier. He''s not trained for combat. If anything goes wrong, he''s dead weight. You''re on your own out there."

    Wanderer nodded, "Good. So who is this faction we''re talking about? I bet the True Horde is too stupid for something fancy like this."

    The commander shook his head. "No, not the True Horde. We''re dealing with something far worse, something more dangerous. Even the True Horde are afraid of these guys. We''re dealing with the Series 9 survivors."

    Wanderer¡¯s expression darkened as he processed this information. "Series 9... those cyberpunk mafia."

    The commander nodded "Yeah, those guys. They may call themselves a ''faction,'' but they''re really just a bunch of organized criminals and thugs. They only care about themselves, and they''re not afraid to break any laws or morals to get what they want. And now, they''re developing a weapon that could change the course of the war. And that''s why we need to stop them."

    Wanderer smirked, "Good. I have a grudge with them. Let¡¯s change our mission¡ªnot just infiltration and retrieval, but annihilation."

    The commander''s eyes widened in surprise. "Annihilation? You''re suggesting we wipe out an entire faction, the Series 9 survivors? Wanderer, you know that''s not a simple task. They''re heavily armed, well-trained, and well-equipped. It would take a small army to take them down."

    Wanderer shrugged, "Just use your nuke storage."

    The commander stared at him, disbelief etched on his face. "You''re suggesting we nuke their base? Do you know what kind of damage that would cause? We can''t just destroy an entire region! The fallout alone would be catastrophic. We need to be strategic about this, not reckless." He sighed, his voice heavy with the weight of history. "Even in the Great War, they didn''t use nukes again."

    Wanderer scoffed, his voice mocking. "Come on... they''re not even human."

    The commander''s scowl deepened, visibly offended by Wanderer''s comment. "Just because they''ve been modified doesn''t make them any less human than you or I, Wanderer. They may have cybernetic implants and synthetic skin, but they still have feelings, thoughts, and emotions. They''re no different from us in that aspect."

    Wanderer rolled his eyes. "Tsk... alright, just air support then. If you refuse it, then I refuse the mission."

    The commander sighed, clearly frustrated by Wanderer''s stubbornness. "Fine. We''ll provide you with air support. But I''m warning you, this is not going to be easy. You''re going up against some of the most dangerous and ruthless fighters out there. And if something goes wrong, we won''t be able to extract you. You''re on your own, Wanderer."

    Wanderer grinned, "Good, boy. We finally will win the war... no..." he paused. "Even if we capture this biological weapon, it might just be another catalyst for another war. What will you do after we get this?"

    The commander''s brow furrowed, "What are you suggesting, Wanderer? Are you saying we shouldn''t pursue this weapon? Do you think we should just let the Series 9 survivors continue developing it and potentially use it against us?"

    Wanderer shook his head. "Not like that... I mean, what will you do after you have that weapon in your hand?"

    The commander took a deep breath and shrugged. "Honestly, I''m not sure. We''ll need to analyze it, understand its capabilities, and figure out how to use it to our advantage. Perhaps we can use it as a deterrent against other factions, or even use it against the Caliphate if we need to..."

    Wanderer interrupted. "Nyehhh... fuck, man. Just promise me to destroy it."

    The commander nodded, reluctantly agreeing to Wanderer''s request. "Alright, I promise. If we capture that weapon, we will destroy it. But right now, our priority is to get it out of the hands of the Series 9 survivors. Can you handle that, Wanderer?"

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "Really? Pinky promise?"

    The commander sighed and held out his pinky, playing along. "Fine, pinky promise. We''ll destroy the weapon once it''s in our hands."

    Wanderer grinned. "Alright... deal."

    The commander nodded. "Good. Then it''s settled. You''ll lead a team to infiltrate the Series 9 base and retrieve the weapon. I''ll provide air support when you give the signal. But just remember, if anything goes wrong, you''re on your own. We can''t afford to lose any more soldiers."

    Later, after integrating the scout into his force, Wanderer set their direction to the east. It would be a long journey crossing the uncharted desert to the Series 9 facility. Their mission now was to capture the mysterious weapon that could alter mutations,

    As they moved through the harsh terrain of the uncharted desert in east from the sentinel, Wanderer''s convoy passed a road sign in the barren landscape. West: a human skull labeled "SWAT." North: a grotesque human skull with horns labeled "True Horde." East: an erect penis labeled "Series 9." South: a normal arrow labeled "Caliphate."

    The heat of the sun beat down on them, making the journey even more grueling. As they continued, Wanderer broke the silence in the command vehicle, where Chrome, Furqan, the Scout, and Shizuka were present. "Alright, scout, I think you speak the truth about the mutiny. The proof of the old general sending me to rescue you, despite having a large force, and even this ridiculous mission, is direct proof. His men are no longer following him."

    The scout nodded, a grim expression on his face. "Yes, you''re right. The old general''s grip on his men is slipping. I''ve heard whispers of mutiny, and I''ve seen the looks of disdain on their faces when they think he isn''t looking. They don''t trust him; they don''t respect him. And they''re not alone. Many other factions are growing restless, questioning his leadership..."

    Wanderer sighed heavily. "It might be my fault as well. I''m the one who let him in charge. I''m the one who made this silly war."

    The scout shook his head. "Don''t be too hard on yourself, Wanderer. You made the best decision you could with the information you had at the time. It''s easy to look back with hindsight and see the mistakes. But at the time, you thought you were doing the right thing."

    Wanderer rubbed his forehead, lost in thought, while the rest of the team remained quiet, respecting his introspective moment. The hum of the Mobile home vehicle''s engine and the crunch of tires over rugged terrain were the only sounds that broke the silence.

 Chapter 9 Mermaids and Mutants

    Later, they reached the Mermaid settlement, a neutral place on center of eastern wasteland. its was a small town with a small fence, and few watch tower. they build on top of once buried city on the desert sand. a makeshift building made by scarps and wood is dominating the settlement.

    Wanderer stretched his arms and addressed his lieutenants. "Mhmh... agh... we can buy supplies cheaper than at the Caliphate market. And don¡¯t accept any people who want to join our force again. We have enough men for now."

    The lieutenants nodded in agreement.

    Chrome spoke up, "Agreed. We don''t need any more muscle. We need supplies and information."

    Furqan added, "Best keep a small, trusted team."

    Shizuka chimed in, "We''ll restock here and then head out. We''re getting close to their territory."

    Wanderer nodded, "Yes, we need quality for now. Alright, you know what to do."

    The lieutenants nodded again.

    Chrome said, "We''ll take care of the supplies."

    Furqan added, "I''ll gather intel from the local chatter."

    Shizuka assured him, "I''ll make sure no one tries to join us uninvited."

    Wanderer gave them a casual salute, and the lieutenants returned the gesture before dispersing to their assigned tasks. Chrome and Furqan headed off to buy supplies, while Shizuka stayed back to keep watch over their transport.

    As Wanderer watched them go, he took a moment to rest and recompose himself. He knew they were getting closer to the danger zone, and he needed to be focused and alert. Turning his attention to the scout, he asked, "So, how do you manage to know such important intel? What¡¯s your trick?"

    The scout smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a hushed tone. "Mhm, you see, I have my own methods. I''ve developed a small network of informants in various areas. Plus, I have an eye for observation. I pay attention to details that others might miss. I notice changes in body language, the expressions on people''s faces, the tone of their voices. All of these things can give you clues about what''s really going on behind the scenes."

    Wanderer chuckled, "Hmh, you¡¯re smarter than that dumb face."

    The scout laughed at Wanderer''s comment. "Haha, don¡¯t judge a book by its cover. I may look like a fool, but I¡¯m actually quite clever. Plus, my face is not dumb. It¡¯s rugged and handsome, thank you very much."

    Wanderer smirked. "Hehe, good. So how do you blend in with those cyberpunk fellas? Oh, don¡¯t tell me... you must be nerd enough for them to open up."

    The scout laughed again, this time louder. "Oh god, hahaha, you sound like an old man. Yeah, I had to do some pretending. I had to seem interested in their weird obsessions with cyber implants and synthetic skin. But they ate it up. They saw me as one of them, a fellow tech enthusiast. They had no idea I was just pretending."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "Really? Do you use implants right now?"

    The scout grinned and tapped the side of his head. "Nah, luckily I didn¡¯t have to go that far. But I did have to act like I wanted to get some implants in the future. They kept trying to convince me, telling me about all the cool things I could do with cybernetic limbs and enhanced vision. But I just played along, nodding and pretending to be impressed."

    Wanderer nodded thoughtfully. "They¡¯re dumber than I thought... perhaps only the tech has become smarter."

    The scout nodded in agreement. "Yeah, they were quite gullible. Sometimes I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from rolling my eyes at their na?ve babbling about technology. But it was all worth it for the intel I gathered. Tech does have its place, I¡¯ll admit, but those guys were just blindly obsessed with it."

    Wanderer¡¯s expression turned serious. "But how do you know this information is legit?"

    The scout became serious as well, understanding the gravity of Wanderer¡¯s question. "Mhm, good question. I don¡¯t take everything at face value. I have my own ways of verifying the information I obtain. I cross-check it with other sources, I look for patterns and consistencies, I use my own judgment. Of course, there¡¯s always a chance that I can be misled, but I¡¯m quite confident in my abilities."

    Wanderer cleared his throat. "I see... we¡¯re looking for something that might not exist."

    The scout looked puzzled. "What do you mean? We¡¯re looking for something that might not exist? What are you referring to?"

    Wanderer replied, "You know what I mean... this weapon might just be a bluff to show how great they are, but of course, it¡¯s in the realm of probability."

    The scout nodded in understanding. "Ah, I see what you mean. Yes, it¡¯s possible that the rumors about this weapon are just a bluff. The cybernetic tribe might just be trying to project a powerful image, to make others quiver in fear. But as you said, it¡¯s also within the realm of possibility that such a weapon does exist."

    Later, Wanderer wandered around the mermaid settlement. He watched half-mutants, humans, and cybernetic humans intermingling in cafes and on the streets. He flinched a bit from the sight until he stopped at a gathering of people in front of a mosque. It was her¡ªthe legendary mermaid.

    The first mermaid, a woman with a red scarf, spoke from a podium. Her body was covered, including her lower part, which might have had fish elements. When she spoke, her voice was soft but passionate. She began discussing Islamic tradition and its history. All seemed well until she preached, "It¡¯s okay to steal... because God is all-loving. God will forgive us."

    Wanderer listened to the mermaid¡¯s words with a mixture of surprise, confusion, and skepticism. Was she really advocating for theft? Was she truly preaching that it was acceptable, that God would forgive such behavior? He glanced around, observing the reactions of the other people listening to her.

    The people around him nodded and absorbed the mermaid¡¯s teachings as if it were nothing. Wanderer¡¯s lips stammered, and he couldn¡¯t help but raise his hand.

    Wanderer stood amidst the crowd, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "What do you mean? We¡¯re okay to steal? That is a clear major sin!" His voice cut through the murmurs of the audience, drawing the attention of those nearby.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    The mermaid, standing gracefully at the podium, regarded him with a calm and patient demeanor. Her expression shifted slightly, acknowledging the weight of his words. "My child, you are correct that theft is generally considered a sin in Islam. However, it is important to remember that God is merciful and forgiving. If someone steals out of necessity, out of survival, out of desperation, and then truly repents and seeks forgiveness, God may forgive them. In the end, it is up to God to decide."

    Wanderer shook his head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Well, yes, but you can¡¯t just speak of it like it¡¯s a tool. God is indeed merciful, but that doesn¡¯t mean we can abuse His trait."

    The mermaid nodded, her voice softening. "I understand your concern, my child, and I did not mean to imply that theft is accepted or encouraged by Islam. I apologize if my wording caused confusion. It is not for us to abuse God''s trait of mercy. We must still strive to be just and honest in our dealings and to seek guidance from the teachings of the Qur''an and the Sunnah."

    Wanderer nodded, but deep down, he knew she probably wouldn¡¯t listen to what she had just said. As the mermaid continued her speech, shifting to a different topic, he felt a growing sense of unease and disappointment. He scanned the crowd, wondering how many were truly understanding her message and how many were simply nodding along without comprehension. A few sympathetic glances from others in the audience confirmed his skepticism.

    Later, as he stepped away from the gathering, he encountered Furqan, who had been waiting for him. Furqan smiled knowingly. "She¡¯s considered a naughty by many scholars, you know. She never took a serious education about Islam itself."

    Wanderer pouted slightly, then nodded in agreement. "People might flock to her because of her charm, not because of her mind and heart."

    "Exactly," Furqan replied, chuckling. "She definitely has her charisma. But it¡¯s concerning how easily people are swayed. They don¡¯t seem to question or analyze her teachings. She¡¯s just feeding them what they want to hear."

    As the duo walked toward the street to return to their vehicle, they were suddenly surrounded by a throng of people. "That is the Arab general and Wanderer!" someone shouted, and the crowd surged closer, voices rising in excitement. "Let me become your soldier, Wanderer!" another called out. "We will follow you! You are a hero!"

    Wanderer, who was not a fan of attention, instinctively covered half of his face. He leaned closer to Furqan, speaking urgently over the din. "Get us out of here!"

    Furqan chuckled, understanding Wanderer''s discomfort. He began to push through the crowd, gently but firmly moving people aside. "Hold up, give us some space! We need to get through!" he called out, leading the way. Wanderer followed closely behind, keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact with the eager fans.

    They managed to slip into a small alleyway, ignoring the shouts of their admirers.

    ¡°hold my hand!¡± furqan then grab wanderer hand. and from his left hand. his exo suit a launch a grapping hook. and they two is then transfer into a rooftop. of a nearby building, jumping from one rooftop to another until they finally lost sight of the crowd below. "Phew... that was unexpected," Wanderer said, catching his breath.

    Furqan laughed heartily, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, that was definitely unexpected. I guess your fan club has grown quite a bit since our last visit. People sure do love a hero."

    Wanderer sighed, shaking his head. "Yes, but they just don¡¯t know me."

    Furqan nodded, understanding the weight of Wanderer''s words. "I get what you mean. Sometimes strangers put you on a pedestal and idolize you without really knowing who you are. It can be uncomfortable and even burdensome. But hey, they see you as a hero because you¡¯ve saved countless lives. Maybe it¡¯s a heavy weight to carry, but it also means you¡¯ve done something truly meaningful here. Try to take it as a compliment, and remember why you do what you do."

    "Shhh... stop being a nerd," Wanderer replied, a hint of a smile breaking through his frustration.

    Furqan feigned offense, laughing. "Hey now, I¡¯m just trying to be supportive! You don¡¯t have to call me a nerd just because I can get philosophical sometimes."

    Wanderer rolled his eyes, his mood lightening. "I¡¯m not in the mood for that..."

    As they continued their banter on rooftop, they stumbled upon an elevator and decided to use it to get down. Wanderer and Furqan froze as the elevator door slid open, revealing a striking figure. The green-skinned woman stood before them, tall and imposing, her unusual appearance momentarily leaving them speechless. They gawked at her, taking in the vibrant hue of her skin and the commanding presence she exuded. Wanderer exchanged a glance with Furqan, both intrigued and cautious about the unexpected encounter.

    Furqan was the first to break the silence, his voice laced with surprise. "Whoa... What in the world is that? I''ve never seen someone with skin so green... or so tall."

    Wanderer nodded in agreement, still trying to process the sight before him. His mind raced with questions and curiosity, wondering what race or species she belonged to. He stepped forward cautiously, sizing up the newcomer and attempting to read her expression. "Who are you? Where did you come from?" he asked, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts in his head.

    The green-skinned woman regarded them with a neutral expression, her eyes darting between Wanderer and Furqan. After a moment of silence, she spoke, her voice deep and smooth. "I am called Jil," she said simply. "And I hail from a place far beyond your understanding."

    Wanderer paused, then snorted dismissively. "Yeah, sure... I totally buy that."

    Furqan shot Wanderer a glare, silently urging him to be respectful. Jil, however, seemed unfazed by Wanderer''s skepticism. She gave him a cool glance, a smirk playing on her lips. "You may disbelieve if you want, but it matters little to me. I have no reason to lie to you."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "So... mutant?"

    Jil''s smirk widened, and she nodded slightly. "Yes, you could say that I''m a mutant. But my mutation is quite rare and different from what you may be familiar with."

    Wanderer glanced at Furqan, then fixed his gaze back on Jil''s face. "Huh? Can you tell us more?" But just as he asked, the elevator door opened fully, and they reached the bottom level of the building. Jil stepped out of the elevator, turning back with a smile. "Bye, normie," she said, her tone teasing.

    Wanderer''s eyes shot wide in disbelief. "That... bitch," he muttered under his breath, then sighed. "Well, I guess it''s kinda karma."

    Furqan laughed and patted Wanderer on the back. "Hey, look on the bright side! We got a little mystery to solve now, don''t we? Who is this Jil lady, and what kind of mutant is she? Maybe we''ll run into her again and find out more."

    Wanderer rolled his eyes. "What? You wanna make this into a love story? No thanks."

    Furqan chuckled, rolling his eyes in return. "Oh come on, I was just joking. I''m not suggesting anything about a love story. I''m just saying, it''s always interesting to meet someone who''s mysterious and different than us, you know? And she seemed pretty... captivating, didn''t she?"

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto his face. "So, you tell me now if you¡¯re attracted to mutants instead of normal women?"

    Furqan laughed heartily, lightly punching Wanderer on the arm. "No, no, no! I''m not saying I''m attracted to mutants or anything like that. I was just commenting on her unique appearance. She caught my attention, that''s all. Doesn''t mean I''m suddenly into mutants or anything." He grinned and winked at Wanderer. "Although... who knows, maybe she''ll win me over with her mystery and charm. Ha!"

    Wanderer shook his head. "No... they¡¯re not normal. Every mutant... except Shizuka. But perhaps I¡¯m just xenophobic after all this war."

    Furqan nodded, "I know what you mean. Mutants are... different, there''s no denying that. But maybe there''s more to them than meets the eye, you know? We can''t judge them all based on a few bad experiences or stereotypes. They''re just trying to survive in this harsh wasteland just like we are."

    Wanderer sighed, contemplating Furqan''s words. "Then... yeah, sure. Why follow a bloodthirsty person like me then?"

    Furqan laughed again, nudging Wanderer playfully. "Oh come on, you''re not bloodthirsty. You''re just... intense. And you''re a damn good soldier. I''ve seen you in action, remember? You''re skilled, strategic, and you get the job done. I''d follow you into battle any day."

    Wanderer smirked, appreciating the compliment. "Alright... that is a good boy."

    Furqan grinned and saluted Wanderer jokingly. "Yes, sir! I''m here to follow orders and kick some mutant ass, sir!"

 Chapter 10 New Old World, Ash and Neon

    As they journeyed through the desolate landscape towards Series 9 territory, the stark changes in the environment were impossible to ignore. The earth had grown darker, with less vegetation and smoke visible among the ruins.

    Shizuka, less familiar with the terrain of Series 9, commented on the eerie silence and the absence of life. "It''s so quiet out here. It''s like the world is holding its breath."

    Furqan, who had traveled extensively through the wasteland, nodded in agreement. "The Great Nuclear Holocaust did this. It''s turned the world into a barren wasteland. The nuclear blasts and tectonic shifts have reshaped the earth, creating craters, valleys, and ruins."

    Wanderer add sarcastically ¡°ww3 indeed a great fun indeed heh¡±

    Shizuka looked around, taking in the devastation.and notice the signal on her intercom is weaken since departure "And the communication? How do people even talk to each other in this mess?"

    Furqan explained, "Communication is a real challenge. With the terrain, atmospheric conditions, and electronic jamming, traditional methods are unreliable. People have to rely on primitive signals like smoke and flares, or the psychic abilities of mutants. but it''s often as fragile as the world around us."

    Shizuka frowned, thinking about the implications. "So, these communication challenges must affect social structures and military operations, right?"

    Furqan nodded. "Absolutely. It makes it difficult to coordinate, to plan, to even trust the information you''re receiving. It''s a constant battle to stay connected, to stay informed."

    "Alright, shut up, you nerd," Wanderer interrupted, pointing to a nearby abandoned hangar. "We''ll park there."

    Furqan rolled his eyes at Wanderer''s comment, but nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that hangar looks like a good spot to park. We need to stay low and make sure the True Horde doesn''t catch wind of us."

    As they approached the hangar, they could see that it was in poor condition. The roof was partially collapsed, and debris and garbage littered the ground. Despite its dilapidated state, the hangar seemed defensible, making it a viable spot to rest and strategize. in horizon. there is the Sin city, a nicknames for cities who being controlled by series 9, their sky creeper, neon advertisement is contrast on desolated desert surround it.

    Wanderer knelt down and touched the dark ash surrounding them. "We''ll use this as a temporary base while we find clues in Series 9. Get yourselves settled."

    Furqan nodded and looked around the hangar, assessing their surroundings and making note of potential exits and cover. "Dark ash, eh? That''s a bad sign. Series 9 must have been hit hard. It means the nuclear fallout was really extreme here."

    Wanderer nodded.his face then turn into somber "yes, while in mega death is many on this region.. they hit the hardest in past.. but.. that might their own fault, "Wanderer gaze then turn to distant sky creeper in horizon

    Furqan followed Wanderer''s gaze. "Yeah, Series 9 has always had a reputation for being a powder keg. From my knowledge, they had a few missiles before the Great war, and they managed to survive the direct hits. But the aftershocks and fallout were brutal, turning the region into radioactive wasteland. ¡°

    Wanderer nodded. "Few missiles is an understatement. They had their agents all over the world, and that''s what started it all."

    Furqan whistled, surprised at Wanderer''s revelation. "Damn, that''s some serious firepower. No wonder this region got hit so hard. So, you''re saying that Series 9 had agents planted all over the world, and that''s what got the ball rolling towards war?"

    Wanderer nodded. "Kinda."

    Furqan frowned, processing the information. He looked at Wanderer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But why? What was their endgame? To destroy the world and rule the ruins? Or was there something deeper at play here?"

    Wanderer shrugged. "I''m not those people. I don''t know how they''re thinking."

    Furqan let out a weary sigh. "Yeah, you''re right. The past is the past, and we can''t change it. We just have to deal with the present, as shitty as it is. But that doesn''t mean we shouldn''t try to understand the world we''re living in, you know?"This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Wanderer smirked. "I love history, but I''ve learned to ignore things too along the way. And you, my friend, should learn to reduce your curiosity."

    Furqan chuckled softly, a wry smile on his face. "Yeah, I guess I do have a bit of a curiosity problem. Can''t help it, it''s just the way I am. Sometimes curiosity can get you into trouble, I know. But it can also lead to discoveries and insights, you know? Keeps life interesting."

    Later, as Wanderer wandered around the hangar, he noticed a group of homeless people huddled around a fire. He approached them and introduced himself.

    "Greetings, people. Do you guys live here for a long time?"

    The homeless people looked up as Wanderer approached, startled by his sudden appearance. They eyed him warily, their expressions guarded. One of them, a bearded man with a ragged coat, spoke up.

    "Yeah, we''ve been here for a few months now. This hangar''s as good a place as any to shelter from the ash and the elements."

    Wanderer nodded. "Few months? New eh? Where did you come from?"

    The bearded man looked at Wanderer for a moment, sizing him up. Eventually, he decided to answer. "We''re originally from the south. A place called Broken City. But the radiation and mutants made it too dangerous to stay there. We left everything behind and came up here, thinking we could start over. But it''s not easy, nowhere is."

    Wanderer chuckled. "Damn, that name sounds so broke for a city, hehe."

    The bearded man smiled faintly, appreciating Wanderer''s dry humor. "Yeah, that''s one way to put it. Broken City was a real mess, even in the good days. Not much left standing now, I reckon."

    Wanderer nodded. "What are your expectations in Series 9 settlement? They might be a worse place."

    The bearded man nodded grimly, his expression growing darker. "Yeah, we''ve heard the stories. Series 9 is rough. Survival of the fittest there. We were hoping it would be better than Broken City, but I guess we just jumped from one fire to another."

    Wanderer shrugged. "Why not pick Caliphate territory? No war, cheap, but perhaps less sinful."

    The bearded man let out a cynical laugh. "Caliphate? You want us to go there? With all those rules and restrictions? Pfft. No thanks. We''re freedom-loving folks, not religious zealots. Plus, I doubt they''ll take kindly to us heathens."

    Wanderer chuckled. "As I expected. What kind of drugs do you use? Red Cliff? Or Blue Mamba? Or something new come in market?"

    The bearded man gave Wanderer a sidelong glance, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "Why are you asking me that? What''s it to you what drugs we take?"

    Wanderer wiggled his eyebrows, showing his blue tongue. "Oh come on, we''re fellow crackheads, you know."

    The bearded man let out a wry chuckle, seeing Wanderer''s blue tongue. He shook his head. "Ah, a fellow connoisseur, I see. Yeah, we like to indulge now and then. Blue mamba''s our poison of choice. Gives us a little escape from the bleakness of reality."

    Wanderer nodded. "I see. What were you before being a wanderer?"

    The bearded man looked thoughtful for a moment. He took a long pull on a beat-up flask of moonshine before answering. "Me, before all this? I used to be a carpenter. Worked with wood and nails, making something beautiful out of it. But none of that matters now. Now I''m just a survivor, doing whatever it takes to get by."

    Wanderer nodded his eyes light up. " carpenter? hmhm.. a artist one?

    The bearded man nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Yeah, you could say that. I had a knack for carving and shaping wood. I made some pretty things in my time. Furniture, statues, even a couple of fine-looking instruments. But that''s all gone now, reduced to ashes and splinters. but now machine build things i make faster and cheaper but hey.. im not complaining. live is easy. they give us free money, things i should do just spend it"

    Wanderer nodded, his eyes fixed on the fire. "Yes, I can imagine. It must have been hard to lose everything."

    They remained silent for a few moments, the only sound being the crackle of the fire. Eventually, the bearded man spoke up again. "What about you, friend? What were you before all this?"

    Wanderer shifted his weight, a faint smile playing on his lips. ¡°me? .. im just like.. violence and woman.. and adventure.. i actually wanna be a artist like you.. but.. i had no balls ahahah¡± He let out a short, self-deprecating laugh.

    The bearded man chuckled, clearly amused by Wanderer''s unexpected response. The sound was rough, like dry leaves skittering across cracked earth. "You? An artist? I can''t imagine you with a chisel in your hand, carvin'' away at wood. But then again, stranger things have happened in this damn world, I suppose." He took another swig from his flask.

    Wanderer shrugged, his smile fading slightly. "Shut up, beardman. Everyone had own dream¡­ but I guess it¡¯s what it is." He kicked a loose stone, sending it skittering across the dusty black ground. The firelight reflected in his eyes, momentarily softening his hardened features.

    The bearded man grinned, enjoying the banter. He lifted up his flask in a mock salute, the liquid inside sloshing gently. "Right, right. Sorry for rilin'' you up, Mr. Violence and Woman. And hey, who knows, maybe you can still live out your artistic dreams. Maybe someday you''ll find a chisel and a nice block of wood, and you''ll create something beautiful."

    Wanderer¡¯s gaze drifted back to the fire, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Yeah¡­ I hope you advice yourself¡­ see you around." He turned abruptly and walked away, disappearing into the gathering gloom.

    The bearded man gave a slow wave goodbye as Wanderer walked away, the firelight illuminating the lines etched deep into his face. "See you around, buddy. Take care." He then turned back to the fire, the flames reflecting in the bottom of his empty flask. The conversation with Wanderer had been an interesting distraction from their bleak reality, a brief spark of connection in the vast emptiness.

 Chapter 11 A Side Quest in Sin City

    The group quickly established a temporary base within the abandoned warehouse, turning it into a makeshift garage and workshop. As they settled in, a trio of futuristic bikes and two neon-decorated sports cars arrived, their neons is contrast on the dark ground. their riders dismounting with a sense of cool confidence. The pale skin of bald mens, adorned with geometric tattoos, exuded an air of local gang affiliation.

    The seem leader of the group, a man with a white shirt, and glooming blue tosca tattoo on his arms approached Wanderer, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. "This is our ground. And your cars are parked on top of it."

    Wanderer nodded, his expression calm and unfazed. "Yes, we''re aware of that. And we''re willing to rent it if you want."

    The bald gang leader eyes Wanderer with a mixture of suspicion and interest. He glances at the temporary base and the garage setup on the hangar.

    "Rent, huh? You fellas got the dough to pay us?"

    Wanderer replied, "We just merchant and sellsword who wanna find fortune with Series 9."

    The gang leader nods slowly, assessing Wanderer and his group. "Merchant and sellsword, eh? Well, if you''s got the money to pay, we might be willing to let you use this ground. But it''s not gonna be cheap."

    Wanderer expresion is unreadable and speak ¡°200 credit per month,, we still dont had income¡±

    The gang leader scoffed. "200 credits per month? You''re either a bunch of cheapskates or just plain stupid. That''s nowhere close to what it''s worth. This here is prime real estate, in this shithole."

    Wanderer grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Good.. alright give me a insight."

    The gang leader, enjoying the negotiation, leaned in closer. "Alright, listen up. The rent ain''t gonna be 200 credits per month, no way. That''s insulting. If you wanna use this ground, you gotta pay 500 credits per month. And that''s the minimum, you understand? If you wanna keep your stuff safe, you better be able to cough up the dough. No exceptions."

    Wanderer glanced at his lieutenant, who stood nearby. "Alright.. 300 credit,, again.. we still dont had a job and we are still struggling.. lets dog help other dog "he said with raise his eyebrows a bit.

    The gang leader huffed, still not satisfied with the offer. He rubbed his chin, considering the offer carefully. A few moments later, he spat out his answer. "Heh, alright, listen up. I''ll tell you what, you pay me 300 credits per month, and we''ll let you use the ground. But if you don''t pay on time, I''m kickin'' you out. And if you cause any trouble, the rate increases. Capice?"

    Wanderer nodded. "Good.. deal "he offer his hand" what i should.. call our new landlord? hmhm? heh"

    The gang leader smirked, taking Wanderer''s hand and shaking it firmly. "Ha! You can call me Skull. And you better remember my name, ''cause I''m the one you''ll have deal with if you don''t pay up. I''m the landlord around here."

    Wanderer nodded. "Skull.. alright.. we are.. from village man.. can you tell us what is series 9 in your eyes? do they.. like your.. kinda big boss?"

    Skull let out a derisive snort at Wanderer''s question. He crossed his arms and shook his head. "Series 9? Big boss? Hah! They''re nothing but a bunch of freaks and outcasts. Sure, they can throw some weight around, but they ain''t no organized force like us. Besides, they''re all scattered and divided, no proper leader and no unity. They''re just a bunch of thugs and miscreants with no real power."

    Wanderer humming. "mhhm.. i see.. can i say they like kinda.. broker in this realm?"

    Skull grinned, "Yeah, you could say that. Series 9 is like a broker, but a chaotic and violent one. They''re constantly fighting and backstabbing each other, and their loyalties change with the wind. They have no real allies, just temporary ones. They''ll make deals with anyone who can pay them, but they''ll betray them just as quickly if it serves their own ends."

    Wanderer nodded, "How many gang beside skull?"

    Skull smirked, proud of his gang''s dominance. "Heh, there are other gangs around here, sure. But none of ''em come close to us. We''re the Kings of this stretch of wasteland. We got the guns, the muscle, and the numbers. The other gangs are all small-time riffraff, nothing to worry about. We own this town."

    "Alright.. nice to meet you skull.. i hope no point gun to each other.. because we peaceful.. killer "wanderer lower his and mask smile

    Skull let out a dry chuckle, his demeanor shifting. "Aye, let''s hope it stays that way. But this wasteland ain''t no peaceful place, friend. Trust me, I''ve seen things you wouldn''t believe. People killed over a drop of water, just for a scrap of food. We live by the sword out here, and the best way to stay alive is to be the one holding the sword. Don''t go getting too comfortable here. Stay sharp, stay vigilant."

    Wanderer smirked. "Okay.. nerd "

    Skull narrowed his eyes at the jab. "Nerd? Heh, you got a lot of nerve calling me that, mister. I ain''t no scholar, I''m a survivor. I''ve lived through more hell than you can imagine. I might be a gangster, but I ain''t no fool. I know how to read people, and how to read a situation. You better watch your mouth, friend. This ain''t some fancy bar where you can just run your trap."

    Wanderer nodded. "Hmhm.. tell me.. are you school by chance? judging your.. tongue ,, you not like those pirate".

    Skull tilted his head, intrigued by Wanderer''s question. "School? You really think I wasted my time sitting in some classroom, learning about history and math and all that crap? Nah, I''m a product of the wasteland, kid. I learned everything I know the hard way, through blood and pain. I''ve been fighting and clawing my way to the top since I was a kid. I ain''t no soft-handed scholar, I''m a hardened survivor."

    Wanderer nodded. "Alright.. nice to see you skull.. i think its time you go..".

    Skull chuckled at Wanderer''s dismissal. "Heh, yeah, I should get goin''. I got business to attend to. But you better keep your word, and pay your rent on time. I''d hate to have to come back here and kick your ass."

    wanderer casually gave him a wave. "Yes,, "

    Skull smirked at Wanderer''s wave, impressed by the mercenary''s casualness. "Heh, you''re either real cocky or real stupid. But I like that about ya. I''ll be seeing you around."

    After watching the gang members leave with their vehicles, Wanderer turned to Chrome and his other lieutenants. "I see swat wannabe."

    Chrome nodded, a smirk spreading across his face. "Heh, they do think they''re something special, don''t they? Just a bunch of wannabes trying to carve out a corner for themselves in this wasteland."

    Wanderer crossed his arms, contemplating the situation. "But they might be useful. If they really have numbers, we might not even need to risk ourselves while dealing with Series 9."Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Furqan chimed in, his tone serious. "That''s true, but relying on them is a risk in itself. They''re unpredictable and untrustworthy. Plus, who''s to say they''d support us against Series 9? They may just as easily side with them for the right price."

    Wanderer nodded, acknowledging Furqan''s point. "Well, his advice rings true. This place is heavily irradiated. Water is expensive. We might need more purified water for the whole crew; we can''t rely on the local market."

    Chrome crossed his arms, deep in thought. "He''s right about that. This place is a dump. The radiation is killing us slowly. We need a steady supply of clean water if we''re gonna survive here, and the markets are drying up fast."

    "Alright," Wanderer said,"For now, we¡¯ll tighten our rations until we find a solution. We¡¯ll check the Series 9 market and see what they offer."

    Furqan nodded, and the others agreed. "Right. We''ll need to make our rations last as long as we can. And we''ll need to find a way to get more supplies. The Series 9 should have what we need, at least for now."

    Oboro who lean on the hangar wall then added, "I''ll keep an eye out for any signs of trouble. If those gangs try anything, I''ll know before they even lift a finger."

    "Good. Better careful than sorry. Let¡¯s roll," Wanderer commanded.

    they then took a couple jeep and drive toward sin city. while the rest stay in their new base. As they moved deeper, they reach the west sector of sin city. a Nexus Prime.

    its was market area, was a chaotic labyrinth of makeshift stalls and tents, Oboro kept a watchful eye on their surroundings after park their jeep on parking lot. its surrounding area is dark. the street lamp is off. with only light can be seen on the vendor stalls showing their colorful wares,

    Nexus Prime, District The Labyrinth, lived up to its name. The place was a maze, bustling with traders and filled with the cacophony of voices and haggling. Only the main road provided a clear path through the chaos.

    Navigating through the market, their senses were on high alert. A peculiar stall caught their attention. It advertised "pets," but the creatures on display were anything but ordinary. Some were breathtakingly beautiful, while others were disturbingly mutated. Wanderer, his expression hidden behind his mask, turned to his lieutenants.

    "Wanna dog? Or woman?" he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

    The group glanced at the various "goods" on display. Chrome let out a whistle as he looked at one of the "women" for sale. "Heh, how about that one, eh?" He elbowed Wanderer and grinned.

    Wanderer shot back, "You have a wife, buddy. I¡¯m talking about a new maid." He wiggled his eyebrows, trying to keep the banter going.

    Chrome laughed and slapped Wanderer on the back. "Heh, yeah, I¡¯ve got a wife, but that don¡¯t mean I can¡¯t appreciate a little eye candy."

    Furqan shook his head, trying to rein in his companions. "Focus, people. We''re here for supplies, not to browse for maids. Let''s stick to the mission."

    Later, they ventured deeper into the market, spotting drones hovering above and gang members observing from balconies and rooftops. Their geometric tattoos and vibrant clothes set them apart from the commoners. They soon reached a stall showcasing a mutant with green skin. Wanderer and Furqan exchanged glances; this green mutant resembled a woman named Jil they had encountered in the mermaid settlement just days ago.

    Wanderer approached the shopkeeper, a fat middle-aged man. "Hey, man... what makes these mutants unique besides their green skin?"

    The shopkeeper perked up at their interest, realizing they had potential buyers. "Ah, you got a good eye for beauty there, lads. This here mutant is a true gem. But her uniqueness doesn''t just stop at her skin color, no sir."

    He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. "These mutants ain''t just green. They got special powers, special abilities. I won''t tell you what they are; you gotta buy ''em to find out, but trust me, it''s worth it."

    Wanderer scoffed, "Do you think I¡¯m going to buy a random Pok¨¦mon? Hah!"

    The shopkeeper looked taken aback but quickly regained his composure. "Hey now, don''t be so dismissive, friend. These mutants ain''t just a toy. They''re useful. They can do things regular folk can''t do. Imagine having a mutant with super strength, or the ability to heal any wound. Or even just someone who can work through the harshest conditions. They''d be worth more than their weight in gold."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. The market was full of surprises, and he couldn''t shake the feeling that they were on the brink of something significant.

    Wanderer leaned against the makeshift stall, his eyes narrowing as he considered the shopkeeper''s words. "Ahh... I see. They had faster regeneration, huh? Interesting. But why have I never seen something like them before in the wasteland?"

    The shopkeeper''s expression shifted, a sly smile creeping onto his face. "Ah, now you''re starting to see it. These mutants are rare, that''s why you don''t see them a lot in the wasteland. They''re prized possessions, and not many people have ''em. But the ones who do, they''re sitting on a gold mine. Trust me, you won''t find anything like them anywhere else."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Alright... how much for that man?" He gestured toward a mutant displayed nearby.

    The shopkeeper''s eyes lit up, sensing an opportunity. "Ah, that one? He''s a fine specimen, I assure you. I''ll tell you what, seeing as you''re clearly a discerning customer, I''ll let him go for a special price¡ªjust for you. Ten thousand credits."

    Wanderer glanced at his companions, who exchanged disapproving looks. He turned back to the shopkeeper, determination in his voice. "You know, we actually want to look for a water purifier. How about eight thousand credits, and you give us a link about the water purifier from your friend?"

    The shopkeeper perked up at the mention of water purifiers, clearly knowing something valuable. "Water purifiers, eh? You want one of those? Well, you''re in luck. I happen to know someone who can help with that." He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "But I''ll need something in return. I''ll lower the mutant''s price to eight thousand, and give you a contact for the water purifier if you do me one little favor."

    Wanderer frowned, skepticism creeping into his tone. "What?"

    The shopkeeper grinned, a sly look on his face. "There''s a rival gang in the area. They''ve been causing us some trouble, and I''d like them dealt with, if you catch my drift. You take care of them, and I''ll give you what you want."

    Wanderer shook his head, incredulous. "Damn... do you think this is a video game? You can''t just ask your customer to do your dirty work for a discount."

    The shopkeeper shrugged, undeterred. "Hey, I''m just a businessman. I know what I have to offer, and I know what I need. If you''re not interested, then you''re free to walk away. It''s just a simple job: you take care of my problem, I take care of yours. No harm, no foul."

    Wanderer crossed his arms, contemplating the offer. "Wait, no... my price in the wasteland is high. You should give us a better cut."

    The shopkeeper considered for a moment, then nodded. "Ah, I see you''re a tough negotiator. Fine, I''ll sweeten the deal. You take care of my problem, and I''ll give you the mutant for six thousand credits, a contact for the water purifier, and a discount on future purchases. Fair enough?"

    Wanderer smirked, "I mean, look at us. Do you think you''re talking to amateurs right now? We can stand with the Skull Gang, you know."

    The shopkeeper''s eyes widened as he took in the sight of the well-armed group in front of him. He swallowed nervously,. "A-ah, I see. My apologies. I see I''m dealing with professionals here. Alright, let''s make it seven thousand for the mutant, the water purifier contact, and a discount on future purchases. I''ll even throw in some extra fuel and gear for good measure."

    Wanderer chuckled, shaking his head. "Humpf... you even offer a future discount, huh? You¡¯re a brave man indeed. I respect that."

    The shopkeeper tried to act tough, but the tremble in his voice betrayed his nerves. "S-so we have a deal then? You take care of my little problem, and I give you what you want?"

    Wanderer rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Tell us about your rival... and why I should help you."

    The shopkeeper leaned in, lowering his voice further. "My rival gang goes by the name ''The Jackals.'' They''re a bunch of thugs and cutthroats, causing trouble anywhere they go. They''ve been messing with our operations for a while now, raiding our supply convoys, and even tried to muscle in on our market here. We need them dealt with if we''re going to continue conducting business."

    Wanderer nodded, processing the information. "I see... but do you pay tribute to local gangs? They do nothing about it?"

    The shopkeeper shook his head. "No, we''re not in league with any of the local gangs. We prefer to operate independently, without any unwanted attention from the locals. That''s why we need you. You''re outsiders; you can handle the Jackals without causing too much of a stir in the region. The local gangs won''t bother us if you take care of the problem quietly."

    Wanderer sighed, weighing his options. "I see... alright, let''s see what we can do. But you better bring my water purifier when I''m done."

    The shopkeeper nodded, relief washing over his face. "You got it. You take care of the Jackals, and you''ll get the mutant, the water purifier contact, and the future discount. No tricks, no funny business. I promise."

    With the deal struck, Every credit saved was a credit earned, and in this wasteland, every credit counted. The intel on Series 9 would have to wait. A side quest. A necessary evil. ?

 Chapter 12 The Jackals and the Mutant

    The setting sun cast long shadows across the desolate landscape as Wanderer and his lieutenants dismounted at the edge of a cliff. His drone, having completed its scouting run, rested in his hand. Below, nestled in a shallow valley, lay the suspected Jackals'' hideout: a cluster of battered trailers surrounded by a dozen all-terrain vehicles. Wanderer surveyed the scene, a thoughtful expression on his face.  ¡°science is organized knowledge, wisdom is organized life,, i had no wisdom¡±

    wanderer then look at his lieutenants "I put back my word," Wanderer said to his lieutenants, his voice firm. "If old commander''s mission is silly, my behavior is more silly than his."

    His lieutenants exchanged glances, some looking confused, others amused by his comment.

    "Alright," Wanderer continued, his tone serious. "You know what to do. We will give them pain."

    His lieutenants nodded, readying themselves for battle. Their expressions were serious, eager to prove themselves on this mission.

    The attack unfolded in a coordinated assault. Dozens of men on foot, led by Oboro, charged the center of the party, while Chrome and Shizuka flanked them from the sides with their a vehicles. its created a trident like movement. Furqan and Wanderer watched from a vantage point, acting as reserves.

    The plan was simple yet effective: a coordinated attack to catch the Jackals off guard.

    As the signal was given, Chrome''s forces opened fire on the trailer park, the sound of gunfire echoing through the air. The Jackals, caught off guard, scrambled to respond, their defenses disorganized. Panic spread among their ranks as Chrome''s initial assault sent them reeling. Shizuka''s light cars slammed into the rear, adding to the chaos as bullets flew and vehicles collided. while Oboro skillfully shot some Jackals rifles from their hands,

    Wanderer observed the unfolding scene through his monitor, his mind racing with strategy. He sent his drone closer to the Jackals, activating its speaker. "Surrender, or we will burn you alive," it blared, the threat resonating through the air. The Jackals looked up, startled and fearful, some attempting to shoot the drone down but failing miserably.

    "Stop resisting! We''re just acting like the good guys here. Just drop your weapons!"

    the Jackals, realizing they were outgunned and outnumbered, dropped his weapon and raised his arms in surrender. Wanderer smile, watching the gang member submit. With a flick of his real time psyche ability, he ordered his mercenaries to cease fire. Moments later, Chrome''s comm crackled to life.

    "Just waste them, boss. They¡¯re lowlife," Chrome grunted, clearly disappointed with the decision to spare the Jackals.

    Wanderer tapped his lips thoughtfully before responding, "No. We''re here to send a message to the shopkeeper, not to act as punisher."

    Chrome grumbled but complied, signaling the other mercenaries to stop firing. The Jackals, now lined up on their knees with their weapons piled nearby, looked up at their captors. The leader of the group, an old man wearing a red bandana, spoke up, his gaze unwavering. "You make a mistake. This isn''t the wasteland where you can just go blazing. There will be consequences."

    Wanderer approached him, nodding. "I know that. That''s why I spared you. I''m here to do a retaliation job for the dude in the market because you raided his convoy."

    The old man nodded, a hint of respect in his eyes. "Hmmph, you''re not wrong there. We did raid his convoy. We don''t like that shopkeeper fella. He''s a greedy bastard who tries to muscle in on our turf. So we took what was rightfully ours."

    "Good. Now we all accept our sins. Just make sure you don¡¯t make the same mistake again, and we can live happily ever after¡ªin this life and the next," Wanderer replied,

    The old man chuckled dryly. "Heh, you''re a funny one. You act like you''re some kind of judge, dishing out justice and all. But I guess we''ll see. Just remember, you spared us, but that doesn''t make us friends. We''re still enemies, and we''ll be watching you. Don''t expect any favors from us in the future."

    Wanderer nodded, unfazed. "Good, but at least you know who you shouldn''t mess with."

    The Jackals'' leader acknowledged the warning with a nod, a grudging respect evident in his demeanor. "Yeah, you can say that again. We''ll remember your faces. Just be careful too. There are worse folks out there than us."

    As night fell, Furqan and the other mercenaries gathered in the hangar for their evening prayers. Wanderer, meanwhile, was receiving a massage on his back, his gaze drifting to the green mutant he had recently acquired along with a water purifier. The rest of the mercenaries watched the mutant with fascination.

    After Furqan finished his prayers, he approached Wanderer, still being massaged by Shizuka. "So, why do we need a slave all of a sudden?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Wanderer closed his eyes for a moment, contemplating the question. When he opened them, he replied, "It may lead to our objective." He rose slowly and walked toward the cage where the green mutant was kept. "Do you have a name?" he asked.

    Everyone waited in anticipation...... until Chrome broke the silence. "Oh great, you bought mute trash, boss," he joked.

    Wanderer remained unfazed and continued, "Can you speak?"

    The green mutant nodded, his voice soft. "Yes."

    Wanderer studied him for a moment. "Did they not give you a name?"

    The mutant shook his head, and Wanderer rubbed his face in thought. "Alright, for now, I name you Pann."

    The green mutant, now known as Pann, looked up at Wanderer with uncertainty in his eyes. He didn¡¯t seem quite sure what to make of his new master, but he was willing to listen.

    "Okay, Pann. Do you know the rules? What happens when someone buys you?" Wanderer asked, his tone serious.

    Pann met Wanderer''s gaze, his expression grave. "I belong to you now. You own me. My life is yours to do with as you please."

    "Yes, but I don¡¯t need a slave. I will free you... if you¡¯re honest with me."

    Pann''s eyes widened in surprise and gratitude. "You would free me? Thank you. I promise I will be honest with you. Ask me anything you want to know."

    Wanderer leaned in, curiosity piqued. "Yes... were you born this way? I mean, with this green skin and fast regeneration?"

    Pann nodded, his expression earnest. "Yes, I was born this way. The mutation in my DNA gives me this green skin and fast regeneration. I have always been different from others."

    Wanderer pressed further, "Do they... make you like this? Where were you born? Did you see your mama and papa, or were you surrounded by unknown people since you were young?"

    Pann''s expression turned somber as he recalled his past. "I was born in a place called the laboratory, created by Series 9. I was one of many mutants they experimented on. I never knew my parents, or even who the people working in the lab were. As far as I know, I''ve been a lab experiment all my life."

    Wanderer''s eyes lit up with realization. "Wow... bingo." He looked at the others, then back at Pann. "How... and when did they raise you?"

    Pann looked down, a mix of sadness and anger on his face. "They raised me in a small, stark cell. I was kept in a cage and treated like a lab rat. They would run experiments on me, poking and prodding me like I wasn¡¯t even a real person. It was a hard and lonely life." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "As for when... I''m not sure exactly how old I am. They never told me, and I''ve lost track myself. Time passes differently in the lab."

    Wanderer asked, "Am I your first master?"

    Pann nodded, looking up at Wanderer with gratitude. "Yes, you are the first master I''ve ever had. I am grateful to you for freeing me and showing me kindness."

    Wanderer shook his head. "Hmh... not that fast. We¡¯re not some random heroic dudes doing random things. We have a mission, and our mission is to investigate the Series 9 project."

    Pann''s expression turned serious. "The Series 9 project? I don''t know much about their research, but I can tell you what I saw in the lab. They conducted experiments on mutants, trying to enhance their abilities and create new lifeforms. From what I overheard, their leader¡ªa man named Dr. Nero¡ªwas obsessed with the idea of creating the perfect lifeform. He was ruthless in his pursuit of this goal, willing to sacrifice anyone and anything in his quest for success."

    Wanderer nodded, processing the information. "Alright... but how did you learn about the world? Did the shopkeeper feed and teach you?"

    Pann nodded. "Yes, the shopkeeper and his assistant helped take care of me. They taught me basic things like speaking and reading. They also showed me some of the outside world, which was strange and overwhelming for me, coming from the closed-off world of the lab. They kept me alive and gave me a basic education until I was old enough to fend for myself."

    Wanderer chuckled. "Cool... you might even be more educated than the rest of us, haha!"

    Pann chuckled softly. "Perhaps I am, who knows? But my knowledge is limited to what I learned from the shopkeeper and his assistant, and what I was able to observe in the lab. If you need specialized knowledge about certain topics, I might not be of much help."

    Wanderer¡¯s expression turned serious again. "Hmm. If you speak the truth about Series 9, I will free you. But because we can¡¯t prove it yet... well, you know what happens, right?"

    Pann nodded, understanding the implication. "Yes, I understand. If I cannot provide proof of my claims about Series 9, I will remain your slave. But if I do prove my knowledge, then you will free me?"

    "Yes," Wanderer confirmed, then opened the lock and swung the cage door open.

    Pann stepped out, looking around with a sense of liberation after being locked up for so long. He turned to Wanderer, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you, master. I will prove my knowledge and earn my freedom."

    Wanderer raised a hand. "Yes, and don¡¯t call me master. It reminds me of the bad side of me. Just call me Wanderer."

    Pann nodded understandingly. "Alright, Wanderer. I understand. Apologies for making you uncomfortable. I will remember to call you by your name from now on."

    Wanderer continued, "What skills do you have besides basic education?"

    Pann thought for a moment. "I am good at surviving in harsh environments, like the wasteland. I have fast reflexes, and my green skin is tougher than normal skin. Also, I have the ability to regenerate wounds faster than others. But you already know that, haha."

    "Alright. You reflect, guy. I like it. So... how do you even know if you have good reflexes? Did they train you how to fight?" Wanderer asked.

    Pann''s expression darkened. "I was used for experiments in the lab, so yes, they did train me how to fight. They would pit me against other mutants or robots and analyze how I performed in combat. It was a terrible and dehumanizing experience. But it did give me some combat skills, so I guess it wasn''t entirely useless."

    Wanderer¡¯s eyes sparkled with interest. "Really? Grunt 77, come here." A muscular man stepped forward from the crowd. Wanderer met Pann''s gaze. "Prove it."

    Pann looked at the muscular man, then back at Wanderer, understanding the challenge. "Very well, I''ll do my best. Do I have to fight unarmed, or am I allowed to use my sword and rifle?"

    "Yes, just pure brawl, no dirty moves. No eyes poking, crotch and neck. Ready? Go!" Wanderer commanded.

    Pann nodded, taking a fighting stance. When Wanderer gave the signal to start, Pann attacked without hesitation. Their skills matched equally, each anticipating and countering the other''s moves. They fought fiercely, neither willing to yield. After a few intense moments, Pann found an opening and landed a knockout blow on grunt 77 gut, leaving the muscular man lying on the ground. Pann stood over him, panting but victorious.

    Wanderer¡¯s jaw dropped behind his mask. "That... was fast."

    Pann turned to Wanderer, his breathing heavy but his eyes shining with determination. "Is that sufficient proof, Wanderer? I did my best to win according to your rules."

    Wanderer nodded. "Yes, but it seems living in that cage for so long has depleted your stamina."

    Pann understood the observation. "You''re right. The years I spent in the cage and with limited movement have taken their toll on my stamina. But with proper care and training, I can regain my strength over time."

    "Good," Wanderer replied. "For now, you will work with us until you prove your freedom."

    Grateful for the opportunity, Pann nodded. "Yes, Wanderer. I understand. I will do my utmost to assist and contribute to the group. Thank you for giving me this chance."

    Wanderer gestured to Furqan. "This is my lieutenant. He¡¯s the most gentle person around here. He will teach you a few basic things about merc life."

    Furqan approached, nodding in agreement. "That''s right, Pann. You''ll be my responsibility now. You have the fighting skills; we just need to build up your stamina and endurance."

    Pann returned the smile, feeling more confident with Furqan as his mentor. "Thank you, Furqan. I''ll do my best to learn everything you teach me."

 Chapter 13 Acid Rain

    Weeks passed as the Scout dude continued to try to contact his old connections within Series 9. The mercenaries had turned the hangar into their makeshift barracks, where a few arguments erupted with local homeless people and gangs. However, these disputes were quickly managed through a combination of persuasion, understanding, and a touch of intimidation.

    Under Furqan''s watchful eye, Pann engaged in a series of training sessions. Intellectually, Pann seemed like an ordinary human, but physically, he surpassed everyone around him. Furqan''s training brought out Pann''s natural instincts and skills, allowing him to tap into his true potential.

    Meanwhile, Wanderer grew impatient with the slow progress of the scout. He suspected that the scout might have become blacklisted by the Series 9 brokers. Addressing his lieutenant, he proposed a more aggressive approach. "We already have a clue about the project¡¯s existence. It was Pann himself. There are many green-skinned mutants being sold by them. The fastest way to find a lead is to capture a Series 9 member."

    Oboro nodded in agreement, his expression stoic but determined. "Yeah, I think you''re right. If we want to find Series 9 quickly, capturing one of their members might be our best option. But we need to be careful. We don''t want to get on their radar too early and tip them off to our plans. How do you suggest we go about finding and capturing one of these Series 9 members without attracting too much attention?"

    Wanderer shrugged. "We will use the shopkeeper connection¡ªthe guy who sold Pann to us. I can make him set up another deal with Series 9. After the deal is made, we can follow the dealer to find clues about their hideout."

    Oboro nodded, "Got it. That''s a good idea. We can use the shopkeeper as a middleman to set up a deal with Series 9 and then use that as an opportunity to follow him back to their hideout. But we need to be prepared for any surprises. It''s possible Series 9 might have their own plans in play, and we don''t want to get caught off guard. What''s our next step, Wanderer?"

    Wanderer frowned. "Just... gun blazing?"

    Oboro chuckled. "Well, that''s one way to handle it. But I was thinking a bit more subtly. What about using stealth and deception? We could follow the dealer without being detected, and then when we have all the information we need, we strike them all at once. That way, we can minimize casualties among our group and avoid drawing too much attention to ourselves. It''s not as exciting as a gunfight, but it gets the job done."

    Wanderer pouted. "I¡¯m not an expert on that!"

    Oboro laughed again. "No worries, I got you covered. I''m an expert in stealth and infiltration. I''ve been training in those skills for years. Let me take the lead on this. I can sneak around the dealer and gather the information we need without blowing our cover. You can stand back and provide support if needed. Does that sound like a plan?"

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "Really? You¡¯re so good by yourself; you almost seem like a one-man army. I wonder why you¡¯re following me."

    Oboro tilted his head, his expression serious. "Wanderer, it may seem like I''m a one-man army, but that''s just a facade. The truth is, I joined you because I believe in your cause. I''ve seen what you and your group are capable of, and I know you can make a difference in this world. Your compassion and willingness to help others¡ªthat''s what makes you a true leader. I couldn''t do what I do alone, which is why I choose to follow you."

    Wanderer smirked. "So, you follow me, break your neck, and do dangerous jobs because you want my attention? Oho!"

    Oboro laughed at the insinuation. "Ha! Don''t go spreading rumors about me crushing on you, Wanderer. I follow you because I believe in what you''re doing, not because I''m some love-struck puppy. There are plenty of other things that catch my attention, so don¡¯t get too full of yourself."

    Wanderer shrugged. "Well, yes, but you don¡¯t even want to raise your profile. Your background is darker than Pann¡¯s. I mean, you¡¯re a walking enigma."

    Oboro looked at Wanderer, his expression serious. "Yes, my past is shrouded in darkness, but I''m trying to move forward and leave it behind. I don''t want to dwell on the past or let it define me. As for being a walking enigma, well, maybe that''s just my charm. Or maybe it''s just to keep you on your toes."

    Wanderer chuckled. "Alright, enough flirting with me. Tell us about your ninja plan after we find their hideout."

    Oboro laughed. "Alright, alright, enough with the charming banter. I didn''t know my jokes were that irresistible. But seriously, let''s get back to business. After we find their hideout, I suggest we gather intelligence, assess their defenses, and plan a targeted attack. We can use stealthy tactics and strike at the heart of their operation. Do you have any other ideas, Wanderer?"

    Wanderer shook his head. "No."

    Oboro nodded, his expression serious. "Alright, it''s settled then. We''ll use stealth and tactical precision to take down the Series 9 members. Let''s show them what real mercs are made of."

    The night was dark and stormy, the acid rain falling in torrents, blurring the Sin city already distorted skyline. Amidst the chaos, Wanderer''s team had rented a small apartment overlooking the street where the shopkeeper was meeting with a group of Series 9 members.

    The series 9 people start arrive,a 2 pale skin man, they wearing a yellow striped clothes, their ear is altered, indicating their implant, Shoopkeeper acting if wanna buy another green mutant with ridiculus price for bluff, after meeting with shoopkeeper. The series 9 people go to one street vendor. a noodles restourant.

    Wanderer merc who acting as spy ear dropping the conversation, the first guy expressing the how ridiculus shopkeeper offer and mad about it.

    While second guy just speaking about slave and woman. Seems unrelated to what they want. Until they finished on their meal . they then start walking toward their hideout. Everyone is wait patiently to where they will lead

    As the Series 9 members disappeared into the city''s labyrinth of alleys and buildings, Wanderer''s team exchanged glances. They had their target. Now it was time to strikeThe narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Oboro pulled his hood tighter, the acid rain stinging his exposed skin. He could taste the metallic tang in the air. With his stealth and infiltration skills, he moved through the rain-soaked streets with ease, following the Series 9 members at a safe distance. The acid rain poured down, but he stayed out of sight, using the city''s many hiding spots to his advantage. His eyes were sharp, and his movements were precise, allowing him to navigate the urban landscape undetected.

    Wanderer leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked on the monitor displaying Oboro''s progress. "Let¡¯s see how this dude pulls it off," he muttered, intrigued by the unfolding operation.

    Oboro continued to tail the Series 9 members, scanning his surroundings for any potential threats. His reflexes were quick, and he was ready to react at a moment''s notice. Suddenly, he spotted a patrol drone hovering just below him while he perched on the ledge of a building. Without hesitation, he drew his silenced pistol and took a shot, disabling the drone before it could leak his position.

    Wanderer''s team watched closely, their eyes fixed on the disappearing figures of the Series 9 members. The moment had arrived.

    As the Series 9 members entered a dimly lit alleyway, The neon signs, usually vibrant and alluring, were dimmed and distorted by the rain. Wanderer gave the signal. His team fanned out, surrounding the alleyway from all sides. With synchronized movements, they emerged from the shadows, weapons drawn. The Series 9 members were caught off guard, Before they could react, Wanderer''s team took them out with overwhelming force.

    they using tazer and muscle to overpower the two man. Wanderer clapped his hands, watching the mission unfold on the monitor. "Wow... somehow we did it," he said, glancing at Shizuka beside him.

    Shizuka turned to him with a grin. "Well, looks like your plan worked out. Good job, Wanderer. Always a pleasure to see you in action."

    Later, in the hangar, two Series 9 members were being held captive. their ears still bled from the forceful extraction of their ear implants. Wanderer approached them, his demeanor calm but firm. "Alright... sorry for the inconvenience. I promise this will be over after you guys give me the information I want."

    The two Series 9 members looked weak but maintained a cold stare. As Wanderer drew closer, their eyes followed him, but they remained silent, refusing to break.

    "Let¡¯s get straight to the point," Wanderer said, his voice steady. "I know you have information that I want. So tell me, who¡¯s your leader, and where¡¯s your hideout?"

    The Series 9 members remained defiant,

    Wanderer sighed, his mind racing through various types of torture, but he shook his head, calming himself. "Alright... let¡¯s exchange information then."

    Series 9 Member 1 scoffed. "And why would we tell you anything? We don¡¯t owe you anything."

    Series 9 Member 2 added, "Yeah, this is just the beginning. More of us are coming for you. We¡¯ll make you pay for messing with us."

    Wanderer leaned in closer. "Yes, I¡¯m just a goon. There¡¯s something bigger at play here."

    Series 9 Member 1 smirked. "You¡¯re just a disposable tool. You mean nothing in the grand scheme of things."

    Series 9 Member 2 chimed in, "You¡¯re a pawn in something much bigger. You¡¯ll never understand the true power at play here."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "So what do you think? I¡¯ll tell you who my boss is, and you¡¯ll tell me who your boss is. Dogs should help other dogs."

    Series 9 Member 2 relented. "Fine, I¡¯ll play along. What do you want to know? I¡¯ll tell you something, you tell me something."

    Wanderer smirked. "Yes... who is this Nero dude? The one who can make green mutant people?"

    Series 9 Member 1 replied, "Nero is the mastermind behind this whole operation. He created and controls these green mutants. He¡¯s a powerful and ruthless individual who¡¯ll stop at nothing to achieve his goals."

    Series 9 Member 2 leaned forward. "Now it¡¯s your turn. Tell me something of value. Don¡¯t try playing games with me."

    Wanderer grinned. "Yes, I¡¯m actually from SWAT. The old commander sent me to annihilate you all." He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

    Series 9 Member 1 raised an eyebrow. "So you¡¯re with SWAT, huh? That¡¯s not exactly surprising, given your resources. But if you think you can take us all on, you¡¯re sadly mistaken."

    Series 9 Member 2 pressed, "Now stop wasting time and tell me something I actually care about."

    Wanderer leaned back. "Oh, yes. But we have a spare nuke from the Great War, and it¡¯s still functional enough to destroy everything you know about this city."

    Series 9 Member 1¡¯s eyes widened. "A nuclear warhead? That¡¯s quite a bold claim. But if true, why haven¡¯t you used it against us already?"

    Wanderer shrugged. "This green mutant is holding us back from it. That¡¯s why we haven¡¯t used it. Plus, we value human lives. Some people here are still very human to us."

    Series 9 Member 1 smirked. "Interesting... So, you value human lives. Do you really care about the wellbeing of humans more than the destruction of mutants? Or are you just afraid of the collateral damage it would cause?"

    Wanderer nodded. "Both. So where can I find this Nero dude and his experiments?"

    "Fine, I''ll give you some information," the Series 9 member said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Nero''s main hideout is located deep in the heart of the city. It''s heavily guarded and well-hidden through a series of underground tunnels. I can give you some directions to reach it, but be warned, it won''t be easy."

    Wanderer leaned back in his chair, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Good boy... continue."

    "Alright, listen up," the Series 9 member continued, his tone shifting to one of seriousness. "To reach Nero''s hideout, you need to find a hidden entrance in a disused military complex located on the outskirts of the city. Once you''re inside, follow the tunnels until you find a massive vault door. That''s where his main laboratory is. Now it''s time for you to return the favor. Tell me something useful."

    Wanderer chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Hmh. What? My pantie color? Aahh ahhaa."

    The members of Wanderer''s team chuckled at his quip, but the Series 9 member remained unfazed. "Ha! Very funny. But now''s not the time for jokes. We''re dealing with serious matters. Your information has been somewhat helpful, so I''ll tell you something that might be of use. Series 9 has a hidden stockpile of advanced weaponry located in a secret underground facility. It''s protected by state-of-the-art security systems, but I can provide you with a code to bypass them. With that information, you should be able to locate and destroy this facility, causing a serious blow to Series 9''s resources."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Mm... you know, you speak too much. Do you even have loyalty?"

    "Loyalty? Ha! Loyalty is for fools," the Series 9 member sneered. "I''m just giving you information to get what I want. In this world, alliances shift like the sand in a storm. No one is truly loyal to anyone except themselves. And if you believe otherwise, well, you''re just naive."

    Wanderer shrugged. "Well, alright... that actually makes things easier. Give me everything you know, and we will pay the right price."

    The Series 9 member 1 smirked, clearly enjoying the negotiation. "Alright, I''ll give you all the information I have. But I''m warning you, this won''t come cheap. And if you fail to pay me what I''m owed, I''ll make sure you regret it. I have contacts all over the city who will make your life hell if I don''t get what I want. Are we clear?"

    "Yes... but remember, right now your life is in my hands. Don¡¯t forget that," Wanderer replied,

    "I haven''t forgotten, Wanderer. I''m fully aware of the situation. But I also know that you need this information if you want to succeed, and you won''t get it without giving me something in return. So let''s make a deal, shall we?"

    "Good... give me a number," Wanderer said, leaning forward, his interest piqued.

    The Series 9 member 1 thought for a moment, then offered, "How about 100,000 standard credits? That should cover the value of the information I''m providing and leave us both satisfied. And remember, my contacts will ensure we both uphold our ends of the bargain."

    Wanderer tilted his head, considering the offer. "Hmmh... interesting. I will let my boss cover it up. What do you think?" He paused, a sly grin on his face. "But you will be in my captivity until I get what I want. I¡¯m not fool enough to just let you free roam while I¡¯m still inside the city."

    Series 9 members glance each other then look at him, clearly weighing his options. "Alright, I accept your terms. As long as your boss covers the cost and I receive what''s agreed upon, we''ll have a deal. And yes, I understand your reasoning for keeping me in captivity for the time being. Just keep in mind that my cooperation is only temporary. Once this deal is complete, don¡¯t expect me to stay in your custody for long. I know how to disappear when I need to."

    "Good!" Wanderer replied, satisfied with the arrangement.

    The Series 9 member 1 smirked again. "Good? No, I prefer ''excellent.'' After all, I''m providing you with vital information that will help you take down Nero''s operation. And in return, I get paid handsomely. I''d call that a smart and mutually beneficial transaction."

    later. wanderer turn his newly updated intercom. then contact the old commander with it then explain the situation.

    "Good job, Wanderer, but 100,000 credits for just intel? You insane? You are a poor negotiator, huh?" the old commander chimed in, amusement lacing his voice.

    "Drop it already... you will pay it or not?" Wanderer replied, as he wanna mess him too. then explain " The more I stay here, the more they will be aware of my presence."

    The old commander nodded on the screen. "Yes. I will pay that thug. Just uncover their project, and we will save the wasteland."

    Wanderer slowly nodded. "Yes... I will destroy their factory." The old commander fell silent for a moment before adding, "Wanderer, they have valuable tech. Bring us the blueprints, and we might use it for the greater good."

    Wanderer shook his head. "Nah... I don¡¯t think mutation brings any good.but  Let¡¯s see how it goes. I¡¯m out." With that, the comms went dark.

 Chapter 14 Breaking In, Breaking Out

    Later, they led the team to the specific tunnel, navigating through the sewer. The stench was overwhelming, and the sight of decomposed bodies left to rot. As they pressed on,

    As they traveled through the tunnels, the air grew thicker, and the sounds of the city above mixed with the dripping water and distant echoes of machinery below. They moved carefully, senses alert for any signs of danger.

    Wanderer muttered while watching the monitor, "They speak true..." His eyes narrowed as they found an elevator guarded by a security turret.

    "How are we going to deal with that?"

    Oboro looked at the turret, his expression determined. "We''ll take it down with stealth and minimal damage. We can''t risk alerting the entire base to our presence. I''ll take the lead and disable the turret''s AI with my cybernetic enhancements. Then, we can proceed with the mission."

    Wanderer leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ahh... now you''re slowly admitting to using implants. Very good."

    Oboro chuckled, his demeanor relaxed despite the tension surrounding them. "Yeah, I''m not ashamed of admitting that. My cybernetics give me the edge in situations like these. It''s just a tool to get the job done. And speaking of tools, we need to get past this turret. Let''s focus on that for now. Once we''re through, we can keep talking about my implants."

    "Good... do your thing," Wanderer replied, his eyes fixed on the monitor as he leaned forward, anticipation building.

    Oboro nodded, stepping forward carefully to avoid setting off any alarms. He activated his cybernetics, he shot the interface nearby with special bullet. its make him able to bypassing the turret''s defenses with precision and finesse. Within moments, the turret''s defenses were neutralized, and it powered down.

    "Clear! Let''s move in," Oboro announced, his voice steady.

    Wanderer''s team moved forward, stepping over the disabled turret and entering the elevator. The elevator descended deeper into the underground laboratory of Series 9. After another round of hacking, they found themselves at a junction where they needed to split their forces.

    "Furqan, you lead the group that will guard the elevator," Wanderer instructed. "Oboro, you take the rest deeper into the facility."

    The team split into two groups, Furqan and a few others staying back to secure the elevator while the rest followed Oboro deeper into the Series 9 facility. As they ventured further, they encountered various obstacles and security measures. However, with Oboro''s guidance and the team working in sync, they neutralized the defenses and continued their pursuit.

    Eventually, they reached a greenhouse area, artificial jungle, filled with strange, glowing plants and genetically modified flora. Wires and tubes snaked across the walls.

    The room with the babies was sterile and cold, a stark contrast to the greenhouse. Rows of transparent tubes lined the walls, each containing a developing fetus or infant, suspended in a nutrient-rich fluid. Wires and monitors connected to the tubes, displaying vital signs and genetic data.its was a pristine room filled with tubes containing human babies. Wanderer used his dragonfly drone to get a closer look,

    "What is this?" Shizuka asked while see at the monitor beside wanderer,

    Wanderer closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "It''s a breeding house... just like SWAT had in their bunkers or in Free world, but,,, its less organic." he replied, opening his eyes to see Shizuka''s shocked expression. Nodira and Chrome stood stoically, taking in the horror of the scene. Oboro, however, was visibly affected. He placed his hand on the transparent glass separating him from the babies, his eyes filled with melancholy.

    "This... This is unacceptable," Oboro said, his voice thick with emotion. "We must put an end to Series 9''s twisted experiments and save these innocent lives."

    Wanderer couldn''t help but tease, "Mm... what¡¯s wrong, Oboro? It¡¯s the first time we see your true emotion."

    Oboro didn¡¯t respond immediately, his gaze still fixed on the babies in the tubes. After a moment, he spoke in a quiet, somber tone. "These babies... They''re innocent. They didn''t ask for any of this. They deserve a chance at a normal life."If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    He paused, his jaw tightening. "I may be a mercenary, but I have my own code of honor. I don''t turn a blind eye to stuff like this. We need to shut down this operation and protect these kids."

    Just then, an alarm blared through the facility, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Damn... we¡¯re cooked! Do your mission fast and get out of there!" Wanderer barked into the comms.

    Oboro and the team quickly responded to the alarm, their combat instincts kicking in. "Understood. We''ll secure the target and get out of here as soon as possible. Just focus on securing our exit route," Oboro replied,

    they doubling their speed toward the lab. As they fought their way through, guards in exo suits confronted them, armed with advanced weaponry. But Oboro''s team was faster and more accurate, taking down the Series 9 guards with ease. However, the numbers began to increase, and the fight intensified.

    Finally, they found themselves in a dome, and at the center lay a teenager sleeping inside a box-like machine. Wanderer spoke through the comms, urgency in his tone. "That¡¯s... that is the machine which can alter mutation. Capture the blueprints and destroy it."

    The team quickly moved into action. "Understood. We''ll retrieve the blueprints and neutralize the machine. We won''t leave anything behind," Oboro confirmed.

    As they engaged in combat with the remaining Series 9 guards, their movements were precise and strategic. They maneuvered through the room, securing the blueprints and preparing to destroy the machine. Meanwhile, Wanderer and the rest of the team provided support from afar, weapons at the ready.

    After achieving the blueprints, the team prepared to set explosives on the site. But as they looked at the boy inside the machine, they realized he was still blissfully unaware of the chaos surrounding him.

    "Wanderer, we''ve got the blueprints, but there''s still a problem," Oboro said, urgency creeping into his voice.

    "What''s the problem?" Wanderer asked, concern evident.

    "The boy in the machine. He''s still unconscious. We can''t leave him here while the place blows up," Oboro replied, frustration lacing his tone.

    Wanderer¡¯s voice turned cold. "That boy... is a mutant now."

    "I know, Wanderer. But he didn''t choose to be a mutant. He deserves a chance too. We can''t just leave him here to die," Oboro insisted.

    Wanderer considered the situation for a moment. "Alright, we''ll try to extract him while you guys secure the explosives. But stay sharp; there could be more guards coming. We don''t want any surprises."

    With a sigh, Wanderer¡¯s eyes flinched as he realized the team was wasting time for the mutant boy. Oboro''s team used a machine saw to break through the machine, defending against the relentless security guards. Finally, they managed to save the boy.

    ¡°... get out of there!" Wanderer barked, urgency in his voice as they began their retreat.

    Oboro acknowledged the urgency in Wanderer''s voice, his expression serious. "Understood. We''ve got the boy, and we''re making our way out. Hang tight!" With the precious blueprints in hand and the boy in tow, Oboro and his team began their retreat from the breeding house, fighting their way through any remaining guards that stood in their path.

    Wanderer turned to Shizuka and the rest of his lieutenants on the room. "Alright, boys. We too will prepare to leave this place and head back to where we belong... the wasteland. We''ve seen much."

    soon. force under Furqan and Oboro manage back to sewer. then they detonated the explosive which damaged the box-like machine in dome.

    "Alright, let''s move. We don''t have much time before Series 9 realizes what''s happening here. Let''s get out of this place alive and go back to our wasteland home," Wanderer urged, his voice steady and commanding.

    Later, the entire merc convoy had picked up Furqan and Oboro''s forces, ensuring no one was left behind. They finally started their journey to leave Series 9 territory.

    The convoy moved cautiously through the barren outskirts of the city, the tension palpable as they left Sin City behind. Wanderer kept a close eye on the road ahead. "We''re making good progress, but let''s not get too comfortable just yet. We''re not safe until we''re back in the wasteland."

    The team nodded, their eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. "Stay sharp, everyone. We''ve got a long journey ahead of us, and the wasteland isn''t known for being forgiving..."

    Suddenly, a voice broke through the tension from the mobile home. A one of Series 9 captive shouted, "Hey! Where is my money? Free us!"

    Wanderer turned to him, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Yes, sure, you''ll have it after we all survive in one piece.. So just sit tight and let us focus on the road ahead."

    As they continued, the atmosphere shifted. When they reached the canyons, a dozen Mad Max-style cars, pickups, and armored vehicles began to chase them, opening fire. Wanderer''s comm crackled to life, revealing the bald pale skin man. the skull "You! Do you think merely 300 credits will let you mess with us? You''ve made a grim mistake, Wanderer."

    Another screen lit up with the Jackals'' leader, an old man shouting, "I told you... there are always consequences! And the consequence of letting me live is... you let me have my time for revenge."

    Wanderer smirked, unfazed by their threats. "You want blood? I will give you that."

    Calmly, he responded, "I expected nothing less from your greedy hearts. You see an easy target and pounce like starving wolves. Well, you''ve just bitten off more than you can chew. This will be a fight you won''t soon forget. Prepare yourselves, madmen¡±

    Wanderer used his real time psychic powers to guide the convoy into a strategic arrow-like formation, allowing them freedom of movement and a clear line of sight. The Jackals and Skull gangs, in contrast, chased them in a disorganized cluster.

    As the battle raged on, Skull''s eyes widened in realization as his sport cars were destroyed one by one. and his bikes turn into a ball of flames "That man is strong... it''s on your own now, not worth it," he muttered to the Jackals'' leader while he turn back to Sin city. followed by rest of Skull gangs

    The old man shouted back, "Coward! You coward! Keep fighting!"

    Skull frowned deeply. "You should pay me more if you want me to be brave..." Then the comm went silent,

    Meanwhile, the gunfight continued to rage across the desert sands. Both sides began losing vehicles as time passed. The Jackals, learning from their previous encounters with Wanderer''s armored cars, reinforced their vehicles into makeshift tanks, their steel plating absorbing most of the bullets fired at them.

    Wanderer assessed the situation from his command vehicle, considering his options. "Damn... they''re stubborn," he muttered, glancing at his lieutenants. "We will split, hoping they will split too, so we can defeat them more easily. Chrome, you will lead the right wing to the canyons, while Shizuka will lead the left wing to the south. I will go with the rest, and we will all meet again at Mermaid Settlement."

    His team acknowledged the command, executing the plan with precision. Chrome''s group headed toward the canyons, strategically using the rough terrain to their advantage, while Shizuka with lighter cars took the left wing south. Wanderer, with the rest of the team, moved forward toward the Mermaid Settlement.

    Chrome and Wanderer opened the hatches of mobile home, glancing at each other before nodding in agreement. Chrome jumped to a nearby truck while Wanderer leaped onto a dirt bike, maintaining high speed. The forces split into three, and the Jackals, unable to keep up, were forced to follow their pattern.

    Wanderer and Chrome expertly navigated the terrain, their momentum high. The Jackals, struggling to match their speed, were forced to split their forces as well, the old man then focusing on wanderer himself and trying to adapt to the rapidly changing battlefield.

 Chapter 15 City of Radiance

    As Wanderer and his team approached the horizon of Mermaid Settlement, he turned to Pann, who was gripping the handlebars of his dirt bike tightly. "Don''t worry, Pann. You will get your freedom after this... just a little bit," he reassured him.

    Pann nodded, determination burning in his eyes. "Understood. I''ll do my part, Wanderer. I won''t disappoint you."

    When they finally reached the Mermaid Settlement, the relentless Jackals were still hot on their trail. "Fuck... you stubborn old man!" Wanderer cursed as the chase continued, he turn back while take a shot with a shotgun, the dusty streets ahead filled with chaos.

    As the fight spilled into the streets, fear gripped the bystanders. People ran in panic, desperate to escape the impending danger. one of jackal driver the shout at old man who trying attempt shot at wanderer dirt bike ¡°damn. what we going to do? do we will break the treaty by keep chasing him?!¡±

    old man then reload his pistol and speak ¡°just shut up and drive!¡±

    One bright morning, a boy with brown hair woke up in his bed, sunlight streaming through the window. He squinted against the light, feeling the familiar rush of another school day. Quickly, he got up, ate breakfast, dressed, and grabbed his bag as his parents dropped him off at school.

    As he stepped into the school, a wooden structure with a dark oak, a chill lingered in the air, even indoors. He made his way to his classroom and settled into his designated seat. Just moments later, Mermaid entered, a woman with red headscarf, her warm smile lighting up the room. "Good morning, comrades! I''m glad most of you are present. Want to take a guess on what today''s lesson will be?"

    Mermaid then continued, "I would like a volunteer to write down today''s lesson on the board. Anyone willing?"

    Every hand shot up except for the boy. He was too busy thinking of ways to impress Mermaid, hoping to be her favorite student. She noticed his silence and called him out. "I''ve noticed you sitting there quiet again. Wanna tell me why?"

    Before he could respond, chaos erupted outside. An armed car was being chased by gang pickup trucks and bikes, gunshots echoing through the streets. The armed car slammed into the school wall, and a group of people dismounted, using the school as cover while they returned fire.

    "Alright everyone! Head under your desks now!" Mermaid shouted, her voice laced with panic as she tried to calm the students. She ensured everyone was under their desks while the shooting continued, the car taking damage from the bullets.

    Wanderer, outside, "Enough retreating. We will burn them!" he ordered his mercenaries, commanding them to use explosives to destroy the gang vehicle blocking the school gate. The explosion rang out, and the sound of gunfire was momentarily subdued.

    As the dust settled, the shooting finally stopped, and some parts of the school wall crumbled from the blast. People cautiously emerged from their desks, Mermaid leading the way. she heard the sound of heavy boots approaching the classroom and turned to see who it was,

    A man in a dark cloak entered, lifting his mask to reveal a tanned face with a short beard. "Well... sorry about that," he said, his tone surprisingly apologetic.

    Mermaid looked at him in surprise. "It''s quite alright, sir. I suppose this has something to do with gangs, as usual," she replied, concern creeping into her voice.

    Wanderer glanced around, assessing the situation. "Hm... is anyone injured?"

    Mermaid shook her head. "No students were injured." She then turned to boy, her expression softening. "Are you alright?"

    "I''m fine," the boy replied, still shaken but relieved.

    Wanderer smiled slightly. "I think he is still shocked... it''s alright, boy. The bad guys are burnt to crisps."

    Mermaid nodded, her concern still evident. "Well, I''m glad everyone is perfectly fine. I hope you don''t mind me asking if I can help you. Are you looking for something?"

    Wanderer hesitated, then asked, "I know it''s not the right time to ask, but... are you the Mermaid?"

    Surprised, Mermaid replied, "Yes... I am. Why are you asking?"

    "Well, I remember you preaching near the mosque just a few weeks ago," he said, crossing his arms.

    "Ah, so you were a listener of my sermon?" she said, her tone curious.

    "Yes. What are you doing here?" he pressed.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    "Well, I am working as a teacher in this school," she explained, glancing around the classroom. "Not that I''m trying to be rude, but is there a reason you''re asking me all these questions in particular? Do you know me?"

    Wanderer shifted uncomfortably. "I... I just don''t like your teaching," he admitted, stepping outside the classroom and gesturing for her to follow.

    Mermaid stepped outside, her voice tense. "Alright, I''m outside the class now. What do you want to talk about?"

    Wanderer looked outside from window, at the burning car, then back at her. "You see... are you kind of the leader of this settlement?"

    She regarded him with a perplexed expression. "Yes, you could say I am the leader of this town. Why do you ask?" Her tone was curious, her hand resting on her hip.

    Wanderer continued, "Yes... I should ask, what kind of place do you envision?" Just then, a small explosion erupted from the burning car, punctuating his question.

    Mermaid looked back at the burning car, the explosion still echoing in her ears. She turned to the man beside her, her expression firm yet calm. "I have a dream of this town for everyone to be safe here. I see it as a place where everyone can live peacefully, without worries of other factions attacking us. I know it''s not likely to become a reality, but maybe one day everyone can live in harmony here."

    Wanderer chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Hah... God indeed works in mysterious ways. If they never chased me, we might never have talked." He began to walk down the hallway, his thoughts drifting.

    Mermaid frowned slightly, her mind racing. "Oh God... don''t tell me he''s a religious person as well," she thought, a mix of confusion and curiosity washing over her. Realizing he was leaving her behind, she hurried to catch up, walking next to him. "May I ask what you mean by ''God working in a mysterious way''? And I don''t think I ever got your name yet..."

    "You can call me Wanderer," he replied, his tone casual. "I was a mercenary in the wasteland, usually working with SWAT. You know, that military order with big guns."

    Mermaid paused, processing his words. Her expression softened slightly. "Right, I''m aware of the SWAT. They''re the ones with big guns and tanks, yes?" she inquired, wanting to understand more about the man before her.

    "Yes, with less empathy," Wanderer said, stopping in his tracks. "To get the job done."

    Mermaid crossed her arms, her voice cautious. "And I''m guessing your job is to eliminate the gangs in this town? That''s why you were outside our school today?"

    Wanderer shook his head. "No, my job is to make those gangs come after me. They put a bounty on my head." He rubbed his cheek. "I even don¡¯t know why I¡¯m talking all of this to you."

    "You talk a lot, don''t you?" she responded sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Why would they put a bounty on you in particular though? They don''t usually put bounties for no reason."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "Mhm... do you have a bounty too? You own the biggest black market in the wasteland, at least in your territory."

    Mermaid regarded him with a serious expression. "What if I am?" She shook her head, her suspicion growing. "You keep asking me all these questions. Is there some reason behind all this? Are you going to put a bounty on me as well?"

    Wanderer shrugged. "No, I just... don¡¯t like you, that¡¯s all."

    Her expression shifted from serious to annoyed. "So you just simply don¡¯t like me because of my status? Don¡¯t you think that¡¯s a bit petty?" she challenged, frowning.

    "Yes, you¡¯re so powerful but yet act innocent behind those sermons," he shot back.

    Mermaid narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms defiantly. "I am powerful, yes. But I don¡¯t use my powers for destruction and ruin." She raised an eyebrow, challenging him. "What do you think I should do then? Be a tyrant like most faction leaders nowadays? What makes you think my sermons are innocent, may I ask?"

    Wanderer leaned in slightly, his voice low. "You¡¯re using a false interpretation of religion. I still remember your quotes. Even if I¡¯m not that devout a Muslim myself, I still know right from wrong."

    Mermaid¡¯s anger flared. "So just because I give a different interpretation of Islam than most do, I¡¯m suddenly a bad person? Don¡¯t you think that¡¯s a bit ridiculous?" Her voice rose defensively. "I believe I¡¯m leading my people on the right path, which is my goal. What do you expect me to do? Abandon my religion?"

    "Fix your eyes," Wanderer replied, his tone firm.

    She raised an eyebrow, sarcasm dripping from her words. "Fix my eyes? Are you saying I¡¯m blind to the truth?"

    "Yes. So what¡¯s your explanation for the weapon dealing in your market?" he pressed, wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh no, don¡¯t tell me you¡¯ll just say you do it to help people defend themselves or something... libertarian nonsense."

    Mermaid smirked, clearly anticipating his question. "Yes, it¡¯s exactly that. I provide people with means to defend themselves and their loved ones." She stated it matter-of-factly, then continued, "Tell me something, Mr. Wanderer. Do you have a family or loved ones yourself? Do they know about your line of work?"

    "Yes, my boys... my soldiers. They bleed and kill for me," he replied,

    "Of course, your ''boys.'' Your soldiers, huh? I wonder how they feel being used by their leader," she said cynically. "It seems like your only goal in this world is to use your skills to kill and destroy, am I right? You probably don¡¯t care what the outcome is as long as you get a paycheck at the end of the day, don¡¯t you?"

    "Alright, you want to guilt trip me? Well, let me tell you this: it didn¡¯t work. So stop selling those weapons so I can kill the bad guys and mutants more easily. Is that clear?"

    Mermaid rolled her eyes again and laughed. "Oh, that''s ironic. You want me to stop selling weapons so you can kill more people? You''re quite the joke." A smirk danced on her lips as she continued, "And what if I don''t stop selling weapons? What are you going to do about it? Kill me?"

    Wanderer¡¯s  raise his left eyebrows "Yes, and burn your little freak town."

    Mermaid smirked, having anticipated his response. "Well then, if you want to fight, have your soldiers attack Rayaskent." She knew the kind of person he was; he thrived on violence, so why deny him his fun?

    "Rayaskent?" Wanderer echoed, trying spell the unfamiliar word on his tounge

    "That''s the name of this ''little freak town,'' as you called it," she replied sarcastically. "Well? What''s it going to be, Mr. Wanderer? I have a country to lead and a sermon to give in a few hours." She awaited his response, her demeanor calm yet challenging.

    Wanderer paused, his gaze steady. "I stopped using torture many years ago, but you indeed beg for one."

    Mermaid chuckled, finding the idea amusing. "Oh, is that a threat? I''d love to see you try and torture me. I''d like to see the big tough mercenary fail."

    "Good... and that doesn''t sound very saintly, does it?" he shot back.

    She smirked, clearly enjoying the banter. "Maybe I''m not the saint you think I am. Why don''t you keep talking and find out?"

    Wanderer leaned in slightly, his voice low. "I could kill you on the spot, but perhaps not today. Not in front of your children."

    "Of course. It figures a big guy like you wouldn''t have enough bravery to kill someone in front of others," Mermaid snarked. "Tell me then, what is your next move? Are you going to continue this little conversation or head back to your ''little freaks''?" She relished the verbal sparring, her confidence unwavering.

    "I will besiege your town until you stop arming the bad guys," Wanderer declared.

    Mermaid smirked again, finding irony in his plan. "So, to stop me from arming the bad guys, you''re just going to kill a lot of innocent people in this town instead. How very heroic." She raised an eyebrow, challenging him further. "So? What''s your next move after you besiege the town then?"

    "I will separate the mutants and humans," he replied, his tone serious.

    "Separate the mutants and humans? Well, you¡¯ve got quite the ambition there, don¡¯t you?" she crossing her arms., "And then what? Are you just going to exterminate all the mutants or what?"

    "I had a dream in my mind, but that¡¯s something not for people like you for share."

    "Oh, I''ve got a feeling I know what kind of dream you have, Mr. Wanderer," she said, smirking again. "I¡¯d guess you dream of a world where mutants are all dead, and you are hailed as a hero." She raised her hands in a mock cheer. "Am I close?"

    Wanderer turned away, walking toward the exit of the school where his mercenaries waited.

    Mermaid smirked, sensing his annoyance. As he left, she called out, "Oh, and don''t be late for the sermon tomorrow!"

    She couldn¡¯t help but laugh at the thought of the mercenary sitting through a religious sermon, the image of his discomfort bringing her a moment of joy amidst the tension. Mermaid watched him leave, her smirk faltering. She had struck a nerve, she could feel it. But she couldn''t tell if she had won a victory or provoked a dangerous enemy.

 Chapter 16 What to Do with the Boy?

    ¡°the meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances; if there is any reaction, both are transformed.¡±

    Wanderer stepped outside the school, his mercenaries flanking him. The air was thick with tension, and his gaze fell upon the old man, the leader of the Jackals, sprawled on the ground with burned wounds marring his head. Without hesitation, Wanderer pulled out his silver pistol, aiming it squarely at the old man''s forehead.

    "Like you said before, there are always consequences," Wanderer said, pressing the cold metal against the old man''s skin.

    The old man hissed in pain. He stared up at Wanderer, contempt radiating from his eyes. "You think you''ve won? You''re just delaying the inevitable."

    "What are you talking about?"

    The old man managed a pained chuckle. "You really have no idea, do you? This whole situation is bigger than just a few mercenary skirmishes. The True Horde is rising in power and influence."

    "True Horde... ahh yes. I wonder why we, as fellow humans, fight each other. It''s because of greedy people like you," Wanderer replied,

    The old man laughed hoarsely. "Ah, so now you''re playing the sentimental card? Spare me your pitiful words. Survival of the fittest is the only law that matters in our world. It''s not about greed; it''s about seizing opportunities and making sure your enemies never rise above you."

    "Yes, and you put fellow humans as your enemies. That is your own mistake," Wanderer countered.

    "Don''t talk to me about mistakes. You''re the one who messed with my territory, now you have the audacity to lecture me about morals? This is a dog-eat-dog world. If you can''t handle the heat, get out of the kitchen," the old man spat.

    " So you work with Series 9, isn''t it? Why didn''t I think of that before?" Wanderer smirked, a glint of realization in his eyes.

    The old man smirked back, despite his injuries. "Oh, you finally caught on? Took you long enough. You''re right; we have a little partnership with Series 9. They pay well for our services, and we get the supplies we need to operate. It''s a win-win situation."

    "Good. And do you know my next decision regarding you?" Wanderer asked,

    The old man spat out a mix of blood and saliva, his eyes narrowing. "I''m all ears. What''s your brilliant plan, Wanderer?"

    "I will spare you," Wanderer declared.

    The old man smirked, his voice dripping with irony. "Spare me? How generous of you. I suppose I should be grateful that your mercy extends to lowly me. But let me tell you something, Wanderer, mercy is a luxury we cannot afford in this world. You spare one man today, and tomorrow he might turn around and stab you in the back. The only certainty in life is survival, and mercy has no place in that equation."

    "I''ve spared you twice. You''d better be more wise now," Wanderer warned.

    The old man coughed, his voice growing weaker. "What do you want from me, Wanderer? You want me to surrender? Admit defeat? I''m a fighter, not some coward who submits to my enemies. I''ll fight till the end because that''s who I am."

    "Stop being like that. Just accept it," Wanderer urged, lifting his pistol and offering his left hand to him.

    The old man paused, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his eyes. "You''re serious, aren''t you? Fine, I surrender." He reluctantly stood up and took Wanderer''s hand, conceding to his fate.

    Mermaid watched the scene unfold, a smirk on her face. "Well, well, isn''t this a touching moment? The mighty leader of the Jackals reduced to accepting mercy from their arch-rival. How sentimental."

    Wanderer glanced at her, then turned back to the old man. But before he could react, the old man drew a sawn-off shotgun. "Only a donkey falls in the same hole twice!" he shouted.

    Wanderer turned around, shocked, just as Pann, using his mutant ability, jumped and pushed Wanderer out of harm''s way. "Wanderer, be careful! He''s not as helpless as he looks!" Pann shouted.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Wanderer regained his footing, realizing the old man''s trick. Pann, however, was bleeding from a gunshot wound. The old man, now out of bullets, drew a dagger, choosing to fight to the bitter end. Before he could move closer to Wanderer, the other mercenaries opened fire, shooting him multiple times in the knees until he collapsed, lifeless.

    Wanderer stood in shock, his gaze shifting to Pann, who was bleeding heavily. "You... fast... go get med!" he ordered, panic rising in his voice.

    Pann nodded but stumbled, falling to the ground. Wanderer rushed to his side, gently supporting him. "Pann, stay with me! We''ll get you medical help, just hold on."

    Pann''s breathing was heavy and shallow. "Wanderer... thank you. I did my best... for you, for the team..." he managed to say, a slight smile on his face.

    "No, no... please... you just earned your freedom. Go live!" Wanderer pressed his hand tightly against Pann''s.

    Pann''s eyes began to glaze over. "Wanderer... I don''t know if I can make it. But I''m glad I fought... with you and the team. I''ve finally found my place in the world."

    Wanderer''s grip tightened, "Don''t say that, Pann. You''re going to make it. We''ll get you to a medic, and you''ll be back to your old self in no time. We can''t lose you."

    "Fuck... you fool... go get medic!" Wanderer shouted at the other mercenaries,

    As they sprang into action, Wanderer stayed by Pann''s side, offering whatever support he could. "You''ll be alright, Pann. Just hold on a little longer. We''re going to get you help."

    "Hey... stay with me... speak to me, man," Wanderer urged, clapping Pann''s cheek gently. But Pann''s eyes turned vacant, and he was gone.

    Wanderer''s voice trembled as he tried to shake Pann back to consciousness, desperation flooding his mind. But Pann didn''t respond, his eyes remaining blank and lifeless. Grief and regret washed over Wanderer as he realized Pann had passed away. He clapped his forehead, blood staining his hands, and looked at the dead old man, anger boiling within him. A mix of guilt and fury swirled inside him, and he clenched his fists tightly, his body shaking with the weight of his loss.

    Mermaid watched the events unfold with a mix of disbelief and sadness. She couldn''t help but wonder what could have been done differently to prevent this tragedy, she felt a sense of empathy for Wanderer''s loss. Despite his past actions, she knew that losing a comrade could be a devastating experience for anyone.

    Later, as the rest of the merc convoy regrouped at the Mermaid settlement, Shizuka dismounted from the command vehicle. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the abandoned landscape. Her eyes quickly found Wanderer, who leaned against the fence of an old barn, his expression stoic. As she approached, she noticed his fingers idly playing with a blue mamba drug pill, a sight that sent a wave of concern through her.

    Without thinking, she slapped the pill from his hand, her voice firm. "What was that for?" Wanderer flinched slightly, his face remaining expressionless as he locked eyes with her, the turmoil within him barely concealed.

    Shizuka sighed, her heart aching for him. She stepped forward and pulled him into a warm embrace, hoping to offer some comfort. "Wanderer... I''m so sorry. I can''t imagine what you''re going through. But you can''t keep resorting to drugs to cope with grief. It won''t bring Pann back."

    Wanderer''s body tensed for a moment, but he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, seeking solace in her presence. "It''s not just about Pann... We''ve lost so many good men to this point... and..." His voice trailed off, heavy with emotion.

    "It''s all my fault," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just don¡¯t understand God sometimes... what he truly wants."

    Shizuka held him tighter, feeling the weight of his pain. "I know this is tough, Wanderer. We''ve lost too many good people in this battle. But you can''t blame yourself. The enemy is to blame for this carnage." She stroked his hair gently, her voice filled with compassion.

    "Blame..." Wanderer repeated the word, clearing his throat as he groaned softly. "Yes, let''s... I... I don¡¯t know what to do next."

    Shizuka leaned back, searching his eyes. "We need to grieve for our fallen comrades. But we also need to honor their memory by continuing the fight." She took his hand in hers, squeezing it reassuringly. "You don¡¯t have to face this alone, Wanderer. We¡¯re here for you. And together, we will make the enemy pay for what they''ve done."

    Wanderer nodded silently, gratitude swelling in his heart for Shizuka''s unwavering support. "Yes, we will bury the dead... and I won¡¯t seek revenge."

    He sighed again, slowly removing himself from her embrace. "Alright... okay..." His heavy sigh echoed the weight of his thoughts as he looked into Shizuka''s eyes. "Thanks."

    Shizuka offered him a reassuring smile. "You don¡¯t have to thank me, Wanderer. We¡¯re a team. We support each other through thick and thin." She stepped back, her gaze drifting to the setting sun. "Let¡¯s get some rest tonight. We¡¯ll pay our respects to the fallen tomorrow. But remember, our fight isn¡¯t over. We have more battles to face, battles that will determine our future."

    Wanderer nodded, feeling the exhaustion settle in his bones. "Battle... for the first time in my life... I¡¯m kind of tired."

    Shizuka cocked her head, a gentle expression on her face. "Wanderer, I think it¡¯s natural to feel tired after all this fighting. It¡¯s been a long and difficult journey. But we have each other, and together we will continue to push forward." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Rest now, Wanderer. Let your mind and body heal. Tomorrow, we will face whatever comes our way. But for now, take a moment to rest and find some measure of peace. You deserve it."

    Meanwhile, Oboro and Furqan observed the scene from a distance, their attention drawn to the boy they had saved from the Series 9 lab, who was still sleeping on one of vehicle. Furqan broke the silence first. "So... what do we do with the boy? Do we adopt him?"

    Oboro paused, contemplating Furqan''s suggestion. "Adopting him could be beneficial. He could provide valuable tactical insight on Series 9 in exchange for shelter and care."

    Furqan nodded,. "Yes, and if we train him in combat, he could become a valuable ally on the battlefield."

    "But we should be careful," Oboro cautioned. "He¡¯s been through a lot, and there¡¯s no telling what kind of psychological damage he¡¯s endured."

    Just then, Nodira walked toward them, placing her hands on her hips. "You boys are always so cruel to each other, huh?"

    Furqan chuckled at her comment. "Cruel? No, we¡¯re just discussing the best way to handle the situation. We¡¯re a team, after all."

    Nodira raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and skepticism evident in her expression. "Ha! A team. More like a dysfunctional family with a penchant for chaos."

    Oboro rolled his eyes and joined in the conversation. "You have a better idea, Nodira? We¡¯re all ears."

    Nodira smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well, since you asked so nicely, here¡¯s my idea: we don¡¯t do anything at all."

    Furqan¡¯s expression shifted from amusement to disbelief. "You want us to do nothing? What kind of plan is that?"

    Nodira shrugged nonchalantly. "Sometimes, the wisest course of action is to simply wait and observe. The boy is young; he¡¯ll make his own decision about his fate."

    Oboro raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Nodira¡¯s proposition. "And what if his decision is to become our enemy? What then?"

    "Then we¡¯ll deal with that when the time comes," Nodira replied confidently. "But for now, we should give him space to process what he¡¯s been through. He¡¯s been through enough turmoil already."

    She crossed her arms, challenging Furqan and Oboro with a sly smile. "Now, gentlemen, shall we stop arguing and agree that I¡¯m right?"

    Furqan sighed, begrudgingly admitting defeat. "Fine, fine. You win this round, Nodira. But don¡¯t get used to it!"

    Oboro rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement. Nodira grinned triumphantly, savoring her victory. "I knew you¡¯d see things my way eventually, boys."

 Chapter 17 Two Sides, Means vs Ends

    ¡°Dead people receive more flowers than the living ones, because the regret is stronger than gratitude. I regret nothing.¡± Days later, a new erected a tombstone can be seen on outskirt of the mermaid settlement,

    Wanderer and his mercenaries settled in the outskirts of the Mermaid settlement, busy recruiting and fixing their vehicles.

    Mermaid, noticed the presence of the mercenary group. Curiosity and concern swirled within her. It was clear that Wanderer and his men were planning something, especially after their recent losses. Determined to understand his intentions and prevent any potential conflicts, she decided to take the initiative and contacted him for a conversation.

    Wanderer accepted the invitation, and they arranged to meet in an open area of the settlement¡ªa restaurant that served as a neutral ground. As they met, nearby civilians gathered, their eyes filled with intrigue as they witnessed this historic encounter between two leaders.

    Mermaid arrived at the restaurant, The open-air restaurant was simple ¨C rough tables, mismatched chairs, and a canvas awning providing scant shade from the midday sun. her demeanor serious yet friendly. She crossed her arms and began, ¡°Wanderer, it¡¯s good to see you again. I appreciate you accepting my invitation to meet. I have to say, your presence here has caused quite a stir among the populace. They¡¯re quite intrigued by your sudden appearance.¡±

    Wanderer smirked. then shift on food at table. Shelpek a Flatbreads with various meat and a Qatiq , type of yogurt. he then dip the bread on the white liquid and munch it.

    ¡°Hmhm... yes, your tone is different when your people are watching, isn¡¯t it? I wonder what they¡¯ll think when they see the real you, that arrogant woman.¡±

    Mermaid chuckled, unfazed by his jab. ¡°Ah, my dear Wanderer, perhaps I should take that as a compliment that I know how to present myself to different groups. And your comment about my arrogance might be true, but it doesn¡¯t change the fact that you brought a mercenary force into our town. I want to know what your intentions are. You can¡¯t blame the people for being hesitant about strangers entering their land, especially with the weapons you possess.¡±

    Wanderer nodded, his expression serious. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m here to resupply and recruit, just like in the past. But the situation in the wasteland is a bit tense nowadays, so it¡¯s better for people like us not to increase the aggro. My other intention remains the same: I advise you to stop the flow of weapons in your market.¡±

    Mermaid¡¯s suspicion was evident, but she remained calm. ¡°I understand your reasons, Wanderer. It¡¯s good to be cautious in our world. But you say your other intention is the same as before, which makes me curious¡ªwhat exactly is that intention? And how am I supposed to convince my people to give up their weapons when they¡¯re using them for self-defense? Your mercenary group possesses the most weapons; it¡¯s a bit hypocritical, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±

    ¡°Limit and forbid are two different things, don¡¯t you think?¡± Wanderer replied, raising an eyebrow.

    Mermaid considered his words, her expression thoughtful. ¡°That¡¯s a fair point, Wanderer. There is indeed a difference between limiting and prohibiting something entirely. So, you suggest we limit the supply of weapons instead? That¡¯s an interesting proposal. But I have to ask, why should I trust your advice on this matter? After all, you¡¯re a mercenary, and your expertise lies more in warfare and violence rather than diplomacy.¡±

    ¡°Why should you trust me? Well, ask your own people. They flock to my ranks even for less payment. They trust me, and I trust them as well. There¡¯s no reason for me to betray my own kind. I know the importance of your settlement¡ªRayaskent, as you call it. It¡¯s a trade hub and an oasis for the commoner and the outcast,¡± Wanderer explained,

    Mermaid pondered his words, her expression softening slightly. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s say I entertain your proposal to limit the flow of weapons for now. But I warn you, Mr. Wanderer, if your people cause any trouble in my town or to my people, my mercy will be short-lived. You and your mercenaries are guests here, and I expect you to behave accordingly. Understand?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but I really want to see you show your true colors someday,¡± Wanderer replied with a hint of a smile. ¡°For now, yes, I¡¯m a man of my word.¡±

    Mermaid chuckled, her tone turning mocking once again. ¡°Oh dearest Wanderer, you¡¯re really determined to see me at my worst, aren¡¯t you? It¡¯s almost amusing to hear such a request from a cold-hearted mercenary like yourself. However, as much as I enjoy this lively banter, let¡¯s return to practical matters. I¡¯ll consider your proposition about limiting the weapons flow in my market, but I want guarantees that your mercenaries will not cause chaos and unrest. You know how sensitive our people in Rayaskent can be. Can you give me your word on that?¡±

    ¡°I know the backlash if I betray. I¡¯d lose my reputation and the trust of the people, who are my potential recruits, workers, and merchants. I¡¯m not some mindless brute,¡± Wanderer assured her.

    Mermaid nodded, acknowledging his words. ¡°I see your point, Wanderer. Maintaining your reputation and trust is important for your mercenary group and your personal gain as well. I¡¯ll trust your word that you won¡¯t betray or cause chaos in Rayaskent. But let me make it clear¡ªyou¡¯re here on probation. If your people cause any problems or threaten our way of life, our agreement is over. Understand?¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Wanderer nodded while continue on his food,

    Mermaid crossed her arms, her tone serious. ¡°Now, with our agreement in place, I have one last request, Mr. Wanderer. It would be best if you and your mercenaries kept a low profile during your stay here. No need for excessive displays of force¡ªit would only cause unnecessary anxiety among the people. Our settlement is peaceful, and I¡¯d like to keep it that way.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t bother trying to recruit me or offer me a position in your mercenary group. It¡¯s not going to happen,¡± she added, a smirk playing on her lips.

    Wanderer smiled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. ¡°Why? Afraid someone more popular than you might come along?¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Mermaid let out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh, please, Wanderer. Popular amongst the people? You mean those individuals who see wealth and power as everything? Well, yes, perhaps you have more clout with them than me. But let me tell you, you don''t intimidate me in the least. In fact, your arrogance makes me feel sorry for those mercenaries under your leadership."

    With a smirk, she continued, "So no, I''m not in the market for a group of mindless thugs. My interests lie elsewhere."

    Wanderer chuckled softly, leaning back slightly. "Hehe... yes. What¡¯s your goal anyway? Mmh? Teach... more basic liberty? People are already free-roaming around. What¡¯s your goal behind those... sermons?"

    Mermaid sighed, "My goal? Well, Wanderer, if you really must know, my goal is to help shape a better future for my people in Rayaskent and the Wasteland as a whole. I aim to provide them with a moral backbone and hope for a future beyond conflict and despair. But I suppose you wouldn''t understand that, given your mercenary background and your view of the world." She raised an eyebrow. "What about you, Wanderer? What goals do you have other than making money and causing chaos?"

    Wanderer paused, his expression contemplative. "You might not believe it, but my dream is to... form some sort of law in the desert. It might seem weird to you, but I see myself as a punisher to those who do damage to this world."

    Mermaid chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Well, well, Mr. Wanderer, you have quite the ambition. Forming a law in the desert and acting as a ''punisher'' to those who cause harm. It sounds almost like a dream for a mercenary like you. I must say, it''s amusing to hear such ideas from someone who thrives on death and destruction."

    She paused for a moment, then looked at him with a challenging gleam in her eyes. "Very well, I shall humor you. What are your ideas for this law you wish to create?"

    Wanderer met her gaze. "People think the wasteland is a place where they can do whatever they want without consequences. A place where they can turn back to the cave era, where the only rule is to be strong and crush the weak. My appearance here is not just about money. If I wanted money, I would rule a city and create a monopoly like you do. But no, I do the real work."

    Mermaid''s eyebrows raised in surprise at Wanderer''s response "Oh, Wanderer, you surprise me. Your aim isn''t merely for wealth or power; it''s for a sense of justice that goes beyond your mercenary work. You believe in making a difference in the Wasteland. I must admit, I find your perspective... intriguing, to say the least. Perhaps there''s more to you than I initially thought. Tell me more, Wanderer. How do you plan to bring order and fairness to the desert?"

    "Yes, for now, I give a message to all by crushing the savage mutants. They think all that matters is power. I show them what true power is by destroying their ego. So far, so good. They are now less threatening than their first appearance. They are starting to realize that there are some rules they can''t break, even in the wasteland. As for the rest of the races, that is my future problem."

    Mermaid listened attentively. "Wanderer, I must say, your philosophy of bringing order through strength is unique. It''s true that in a lawless society, strength is often viewed as the ultimate deterrent. By defeating the mutants, you are effectively establishing a hierarchy of power in the Wasteland. I''ll admit, it''s a bold and unconventional approach."

    She leaned back in her chair, contemplating his words. "Tell me, Wanderer, does your vision of order extend beyond just defeating the mutants?"

    "Hmhm... yes, perhaps. My messenger will spread more. If the source of this power dominance comes from material dependency, the majority of people think that more wealth means power, and less wealth makes them a minority. This sort of behavior doesn''t exist in the caliphate, where wealth distribution is fairer. But since all people in the wasteland roam around thinking liberty is the number one in their life, that idea needs to be refined."

    Mermaid pondered for a moment, her eyes locked onto Wanderer''s. "Wanderer, you make a valid point. Wealth distribution plays a significant role in power dynamics. the Zakat on Caliphate, and Your goal to ''de-materialize'' power and emphasize unity over wealth is quite unusual for a mercenary, but it''s also refreshingly different. The idea of shifting power away from those who amass wealth and toward a shared sense of purpose is, indeed, intriguing."

    "Yes," Wanderer replied,

    Mermaid smiled, appreciating Wanderer''s insights on the matter. "Wanderer, I must say, your unique blend of pragmatism and idealism is quite intriguing.It''s a bold approach, and I''ll be keeping a close eye on your progress."

    She looked at him thoughtfully. "Tell me, Wanderer, how do you plan to start reforming this system in the Wasteland? What are your strategies to implement this change?"

    "First, controlling the flow of items and violence... and minds," Wanderer stated, his tone serious.

    Mermaid nodded, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. "I see. Controlling the flow of items and violence, as well as the minds of people. An interesting approach, to say the least. Controlling items allows you to have leverage and influence, while controlling violence ensures a degree of stability for your vision. As for minds, that seems to imply that you also want to shape the beliefs of people through either force or persuasion¡ªor perhaps a combination of both."

    She then looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Wanderer, do you aim for unity or subjugation?"

    Wanderer closed his eyes for a moment before meeting her gaze. "Both. I realize some people are too stubborn to listen, and I realize too that some people might know the truth but are too afraid to join what is right."

    Mermaid tilted her head slightly, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "Unity and subjugation, huh? That''s certainly an ambitious goal, Wanderer. You believe that people must be made to change, one way or another. It''s a ruthless tactic, but sometimes, extreme situations call for extreme measures." She crossed her arms, pondering his words. "Wanderer, do you believe that absolute order can truly be achieved? Are people truly willing to give up their freedom for the promise of stability?"

    Wanderer met her gaze, his expression unwavering. "You call me ruthless? Then what are you in your own mirror?"

    Mermaid laughed softly, her eyes studying the mercenary before her. "Wanderer, we''re all ruthless in our own ways. I''m not denying my ruthless tendencies, just as I don''t deny yours. It takes a certain level of ruthlessness to lead a settlement in the Wasteland and maintain order amidst chaos." She paused for effect, her smirk returning. "The difference is, Wanderer, I believe in guiding people toward a brighter future rather than forcing them. But then again, like you said, sometimes extreme situations call for extreme measures. So, perhaps we''re more alike than we think."

    "Yes, I actually want to call it if we are the same coin with different sides, but I''m too cringe to admit... if... you... someone like.. you..." Wanderer replied,

    Mermaid couldn''t help but let out a little chuckle. "Oh, Wanderer, you have a way with words that''s both charming and ironic. Who would have thought that a ruthless mercenary would want to consider himself the ''other side of the coin'' with someone like me? I must admit, the idea is entertaining, yet surprising."

    Wanderer smirked,. "Yes, I almost feel humiliated in the same position as cultists like you."

    Mermaid leaned forward, her eyes locking onto Wanderer''s. "Almost humiliated, eh? Well, Wanderer, sometimes a little humility can be healthy for the soul. It''s easy to get lost in our own beliefs and ambitions, but a touch of self-awareness helps keep us on track. And as for the comparison with those cultists, I''m quite different from them, I assure you." She shrugged with a hint of amusement.

    "You all are the same, using religious manipulation to get what you want... or teaching so-called manifestation to each individual. You want them to believe in themselves rather than in God," Wanderer shot back,

    Mermaid raised an eyebrow. "Ah, ''religious manipulation,'' you say? What an intriguing accusation, Wanderer. You certainly have a way of simplifying complex matters, don''t you?" She paused, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I do believe in helping people find their own inner strength and belief in themselves. But let me ask you, Wanderer, is encouraging self-belief inherently wrong? Do you think everyone should solely rely on external forces?"

    "Balance is important," Wanderer replied, rising from his chair without finishing his meal. He started walking away but paused to meet her gaze once again. "We are aware that God created our bodies and gave us the ability to choose what we want. But we must also be aware that there are little things we can do about change, fate, time, and the unpredictability God offers us."

    Mermaid observed Wanderer as he spoke, her expression thoughtful. "Wanderer, how profound. You speak of balance between self-reliance and acceptance of the unknown¡ªquite philosophical of you. It seems you have a deeper understanding of life than your rugged appearance suggests." She continued, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I must admit, Wanderer, you''re not the man I thought you were. Perhaps there''s more to you than meets the eye. Our conversation has been rather enlightening."

    "Now you might understand if the people who follow me are not mindless individuals who like money and adventure. And the women who are in my embrace are not because I''m some sort of bad boy," Wanderer said with a smile,then order the waitress to package the leftover on table.  he then give mermaid last a smirk on his lips as he began to walk away.

    Mermaid watched as Wanderer walked away after took his meal, leaving his words hanging in the air. She couldn''t help but be somewhat amused by his subtle attempt at making some kind of romantic innuendo. "Well, Wanderer, you certainly have a way with words. Your ability to provoke and intrigue me is quite... intriguing."

 Chapter 18 The Boy Becomes Dragon

    The morning sun greeted the earth as Wanderer and his team reached the designated cliff overlooking the vast, desolate landscape. The wind whipped through their hair, carrying the scent of dust and scorched earth. Below them lay the remnants of a world long forgotten,

    The old commander, flanked by a squadron of SWAT soldiers, stepped out of the blue airship. He saluted his elite troops. blue and silver exosuit with shield on their arms. his eyes scanning the horizon before settling on Wanderer. There was a mix of respect and expectation in his gaze.

    "Good job, Wanderer," he said, his voice carrying a hint of admiration. "I knew I could trust you. Now, give me the blueprints."

    Wanderer remained impassive, his gaze fixed on the two Series 9 members standing beside him. "Well, pay them first," he replied, his voice steady. "One hundred thousand credits. As you know, without their intel, we couldn''t have finished our mission."

    The old commander rolled his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips. "Alright, alright," he grumbled, reaching for his pistol. In a swift movement, he shot one of the Series 9 members in the head, their body crumpling to the ground.

    The other Series 9 member raised his hands in surrender, fear evident in his voice. "No, wait!" he cried, but it was too late. The old commander fired another shot, silencing him forever.

    Wanderer watched the scene unfold, his expression unreadable. He then turned to the old commander, who had holstered his pistol. "Now we don''t need to spare our money for trivial things," the old commander said, his voice cold and calculating. Wanderer wanted to say something, but no words came.

    In the tense moment, Wanderer finally gathered his thoughts. "Well... betraying people has a karmic effect, you know," he said, placing his hands on his hips.

    The old commander chuckled, his eyes narrowing. "Oh, you think I care about karma, mercenary? Survival is the only law that matters in this world. And if that means betraying those who get in my way, then so be it."

    Wanderer''s expression remained firm, then lit up. "Hah! Classic rhetoric. Now do you think I will trust this blueprint of mutation to you?"

    The old commander shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "You don''t have to trust me. You just have to deliver. We had a deal, and I expect you to honor it. After all, you''re a mercenary, and mercenaries do what they''re paid to do. Right?"

    "Don''t remind me. I hope you remember our promise too... our pinky promise." Wanderer then drew the chip from his pocket. "We''re going to destroy this tech, aren''t we?"

    The old commander chuckled again, clearly unimpressed. "Destroy it? Are you insane? This tech is too valuable to destroy. Why would I destroy something that could give me an advantage in this war?"

    "Come on! You promised me! I''m here not to bring it to you, but to test your loyalty," Wanderer insisted.

    The old commander sneered, his eyes narrowed. "Loyalty? In this world? You''re delusional, wanderer. Loyalty is a luxury we can''t afford. Survival is all that matters, and if that means breaking your silly pinky promise, then so be it."Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    "Then... watch this with your own eyes." Wanderer threw the chip off the cliff.

    The old commander''s eyes widened with rage as he watched the chip disappear into the abyss. "You fool! That chip contained priceless knowledge and technology! You''ve just set us back months, perhaps years. Do you have any idea what you''ve done?!"

    "Yes, but at least I taught you something about loyalty and respect," Wanderer replied, his tone steady.

    The old commander gritted his teeth, his hands clenching into fists. "You think that paltry lesson means anything? You''ve just cost us valuable intelligence and set us back in our war effort. And for what? To teach me about loyalty and respect? Ha! You''ve just demonstrated your own foolishness and shortsightedness."

    "Yes, see you again," Wanderer said, turning away.

    The old commander seethed with rage as Wanderer walked away. "Don''t think you can just walk away from this,. Our paths will cross again, and when they do, you''ll pay for your treachery. Mark my words, Wanderer. Mark my words."

    Wanderer stopped, glancing back. "You could shoot me in the back. You didn''t. You didn''t do that because you need me."

    The old commander''s expression softened slightly, and he scoffed. "You''re right, Wanderer. I didn''t shoot you in the back because you''re needed. You''re a valuable asset in this war, and I won''t waste your skills unless absolutely necessary. But make no mistake, I can still make your life a living hell if you cross me again. And trust me, my way of payback is far worse than a bullet to the back."

    "Good boy," Wanderer replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

    The old commander chuckled, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Oh, you think you''re so clever, don''t you, Wanderer? But don''t get too cocky. I may need you now, but I won''t hesitate to dispose of you if you become more trouble than you''re worth. Remember that."

    Later, Wanderer focused his base near the Mermaid settlement, raising his own salary while dealing with SWAT missions. The SWAT had no option but to meet Wanderer¡¯s demands for their oil truck protection against the True Horde. It was a delicate balance of power, and Wanderer was determined to leverage it to his advantage. while wanderer keep investing his salary to upgrade the police system in wasteland. hoping someday they dont need rely on Swat.

    One day, Wanderer and Nodira stood at the training ground, watching the unnamed boy they had saved from Series 9 grow up. He was now intermingling with the mercenaries, honing his skills. Wanderer sipped his tea, a contemplative look on his face. "So... do we have a name for the boy?" he asked, glancing at Nodira.

    Nodira lifted her sunglasses, pretending to think deeply. Before she could respond, Oboro joined the conversation, a smile peeking from behind his scarf. "Well, so far we just call him... the boy."

    Nodira smirked, enjoying the banter. "How about ''Prodigy''? It''s fitting for someone with his skills."

    Oboro nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I like that. Prodigy suits him well. And it''s easy to remember too!"

    Wanderer stretched his arms, a playful glint in his eyes. "He might be half mutant, but without the green skin. Prodigy? What even is that?"

    Nodira chuckled at Wanderer''s question. "A prodigy is someone who shows exceptional talent or promise in a particular field. In our case, the boy is showing remarkable combat skills and intelligence that surpasses what you would expect from someone his age. That''s why we call him ''Prodigy.'' We¡¯ll just have to remind him of his humble beginnings."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief in his tone. "Mhmh... do you think that¡¯s kind of... a bit... racist?"

    Nodira laughed, clearly amused. "Racist? What do you mean? We''re not calling him that because of his genetics. We''re calling him that because of his skill and potential. But if you have a better suggestion, I''m all ears."

    Wanderer grinned,. "How about... non-mutant boy? Ahah hahaha!"

    Laughter erupted among them, but Wanderer quickly added, "Mhm, but no... just jokes."

    Nodira rolled her eyes, a mischievous smile on her face. "Well, that''s certainly... unique. But I think ''non-mutant boy'' might be a bit too straightforward, don¡¯t you think? We could use something more creative and memorable, like ''Uncanny Kid'' or ''Mutant Lite.'' Or we can just stick to ''Prodigy.''"

    Wanderer pondered for a moment. "How about we let him choose instead?"

    Nodira nodded in agreement. "You know what? I think that''s a great idea. Let''s ask him what he wants to be called. He has a right to choose his own identity. But remember, this is all just for fun, Wanderer. It''s not like we''re going to call him ''The Amazing Non-Mutant Boy'' every time we talk to him. We''ll just stick to ''Boy'' or ''Prodigy'' unless he decides otherwise. And remember, we only call him non-mutant just for fun, okay?"

    Wanderer turned around, using his real time psyche to call the boy over. The tall teenager approached, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Alright, boy, since you¡¯re nameless, we¡¯re going to pick a name for you. We have some name suggestions, but we give you the freedom to choose your own name because we¡¯re too dumb for it."

    The boy listened attentively, excitement bubbling within him. After a moment of contemplation, his eyes lit up. "I... I want to be called ''Dragon!''" he exclaimed, a proud smile spreading across his face.

    Wanderer and Nodira exchanged surprised looks, but they couldn¡¯t help but see the irony in his choice. It seemed the boy had a sense of humor after all.

    "Alright... Dragon it is," Wanderer said, a smile breaking across his face.

    Nodira chuckled and nodded in agreement. "Alright, then ''Dragon'' it is. Welcome to the team, kid."

    The boy, now named ''Dragon,'' beamed with pride, clearly pleased with his new identity.

 Chapter 19 Amfibiya Vila

    As the days and weeks passed, Rayaskent maintained its usual tranquility. The town''s residents continued their daily lives, undisturbed by any immediate threats. Mermaid, as usual, dedicated her time to teaching and supporting the people of Rayaskent,

    Later, after class, the soft glow of the classroom lamp cast long shadows across the worn wooden floor. Mermaid, a petite woman with an ethereal aura with her blue dress, she was the last to leave. As she gathered her belongings, her eyes caught a flash of color on the floor. A single red rose, its petals glistening with dew, lay nestled in the door.

    "Oh, what''s this?" she murmured to herself.

    Intrigued, Mermaid knelt to pick it up. The delicate fragrance filled her senses, a stark contrast to the usual scent of chalk dust ,A smile graced her lips as she admired the beauty of the flower.

    Suddenly, a deep, raspy voice echoed from behind her. "Boo... you dead!"

    Mermaid jumped, her heart pounding in her chest. She spun around to find Wanderer, a tall, imposing figure with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

    "Wanderer, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" she exclaimed. "Did you place this rose here?"

    Wanderer chuckled. "It''s called... psychological warfare. First, you let your opponent feel confident in what they''re doing. Then, the real attack comes."

    Mermaid raised an eyebrow, amused by his words. "Psychological warfare, you say? Well, Wanderer, if that was your attempt at psychological warfare, I have to say, you need to work on your technique."

    She held up the rose, a faint smile playing at her lips.

    "So... do... do you even have a real name? Or is your name just... Mermaid?" Wanderer asked, his tone playful.

    Mermaid smirked at his curiosity. "Ah, you''re very curious about my name, Wanderer. Well, some people call me Vila, while others simply call me Mermaid. But what about you, do you have a name, or is ''Wanderer'' the only label you carry in this chaotic wasteland?"

    "I like Wanderer," he replied. "It fits me. So Vila, why do people call you Mermaid? Do you have fish scales behind that dress?"

    Vila, also known as Mermaid chuckled softly at his curiosity. "People call me Mermaid because of the rumors that I come from a group called the Rusalki, or Mermaids. According to legend, we possess special abilities linked to the sea, which might explain my occasional love for aquatic themes in my attire."

    She twirled slightly, causing her blue skirt to sway gracefully. Then, she winked at him with a playful smile. "Although, you must wonder what''s beneath this outfit, don''t you, Wanderer? Let''s just say it''s a mystery left for your imagination."

    Wanderer grinned. "If I were a brute, I''d already... found out."

    Vila laughed again, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Wanderer, if you were a brute, you''d have found out already, huh? Well, thank goodness you have a bit of finesse beneath that mercenary exterior of yours."

    "But you must admit, the allure of a little mystery adds a certain charm, doesn''t it? It keeps people guessing, wondering what lies within the depths."

    "Yes, it is," Wanderer replied,. "Tell me more about the mermaids. Are they a group of elite mutants in ww4?"Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Vila nodded, ready to share. "The mermaids are indeed a group of mutants, Wanderer. They are humans who have adapted to living in the sea and have developed unique aquatic abilities. These abilities vary from mermaid to mermaid, but they often possess enhanced swimming speed, the ability to breathe underwater, and an inherent connection with sea creatures." She paused, looking at him with curiosity. the sound of children playing could be heard in the background. "Is there a particular reason you''re so interested in the mermaids, Wanderer? Or is it just another one of your curious questions?"

    Wanderer tilted his head, a playful smirk on his lips. "Well, what if I tied up your body and threw you into the river... to see what happens?"

    Vila raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Wanderer, now you''re just asking for trouble. You want to tie me up and throw me into the river to test my aquatic abilities? That''s quite an adventurous way to get to know someone better, don''t you think?" She leaned closer, a coy look in her eyes. "But what if I don''t want to be tied up? I''m quite enjoying this unexpected conversation."

    "You don''t like being tied up? You''re not a masochist? So sad," he teased.

    Vila burst into laughter, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Oh, Wanderer, you''re really testing the limits of my patience, aren''t you? I have a feeling you''re secretly hoping for a certain answer, but I apologize to disappoint you. I''m not exactly a fan of being tied up, regardless of my masochistic tendencies." She leaned closer, winking at him. "But who knows, maybe for the right person, I might be tempted to take a few risks with bondage. What about you, Wanderer? Care to confess something about your own tendencies?"

    Wanderer shrugged, a playful smile on his face. "Yes, I actually like being pampered like a baby."

    Vila couldn''t help but laugh again, wiping a tear from her eye. "Wanderer, you''re truly unique! A mercenary with a secret soft spot for being pampered like a baby ¨C that''s just adorable." She leaned closer, her playful glint returning. "I must say, I never expected to hear a confession like that from a rugged mercenary like you. But I suppose, even the toughest of warriors have unexpected vulnerabilities."

    "Yes... so tell me, why do women wander through the wasteland and rule a city while also working as teachers?" Wanderer asked, genuinely intrigued.

    Vila chuckled softly, her expression thoughtful. "Wanderer, my life is a bit of a journey, isn''t it? But to answer your question, I travel through the Wasteland because I believe in helping people find their own inner strength and wisdom. I seek knowledge and understanding, and teaching is a way for me to share what I''ve learned with others. As for ruling a city, Rayaskent is a place where people can find solace and new beginnings, free from the chaos of the Wasteland and the limitations of their past. Sometimes, even a mermaid can desire a new home, you know?"

    Wanderer nodded. "Hmm... what did you see in the depths of the sea that made you change?"

    At the mention of the sea, Vila''s expression became pensive. She looked far away, her eyes filled with memories. "The depths of the sea are a world of beauty and intrigue, Wanderer. It''s a realm where time seems to stand still, and the mysteries of life reveal themselves slowly. There, I saw worlds beyond imagination, creatures both magnificent and terrifying. And in those depths, I discovered strength within myself that I never knew I possessed."

    Before Vila could finish her sentence, a group of children ran across the hallway and surrounded her. "Miss Vila, we need your help with this equation!" one child exclaimed. Another chimed in, "Miss Vila, look at my new drawings!" A boy added, "What¡¯s the main difference between a mutant and a human? Are they the same?"

    Vila smiled warmly at the children, her role as a teacher shining through. "Alright, my little scholars, let''s tackle these questions together!"

    Vila chuckled warmly, looking at the children with fondness.

    "Well, well, look at these curious little minds! Of course I can help you with your equation, and I''d be delighted to see your new drawings."

    She knelt down to their level and started guiding them through the equation, explaining it with patience and clarity. As the group of children listened attentively, Vila saw this as an opportunity to address the boy''s question.

    "As for the difference between mutants and humans, they are born from different sources, so they are not the same."

    "What happens if a human and a mutant marry?" Wanderer asked, his curiosity evident.

    Vila paused thoughtfully, considering the implications of his question. "Wanderer, if a human and a mutant decide to marry, it could lead to a unique blend of traits that may vary depending on the individuals involved. It could result in offspring with both human and mutant characteristics. However, it''s essential to remember that each individual''s unique circumstances and genetics come into play in such cases."

    She looked at Wanderer, her eyes filled with warmth and acceptance. "Do you have a specific reason for asking this, Wanderer?"

    Wanderer''s eyes flinched slightly. "No particular reason..." He glanced at the children who seemed to come from nowhere, then nodded. "Well, I think it''s time for me to go."

    Vila nodded understandingly, noticing the flicker in Wanderer''s eyes. She turned back to the children, addressing them with a warm smile. "My apologies, dear ones, but it seems our friend, the Wanderer, needs to leave for now. Remember, always continue to ask questions and seek knowledge. That''s the path of true enlightenment. Now, off you go!"

    She stood up and, with a charming bow, bid farewell to Wanderer. "Until we meet again, Wanderer. Stay safe."

 Chapter 20 Nom nom of the Old World

    A flickering flatscreen mounted on the wall blared a SWAT-sponsored program,

    "Social Security Reform Bill: Encouraging SWAT Veterans to Live Fast, and Die!"

    Below, smaller text scrolled rapidly:

    "Suck the Life Dry: Subsidized by Ex-Farmer Energy Drinks!"

    "Cigarettes and Vodka Subsidies Reduced by 50%! Party ''Til You Drop!"

    "Helmets and Armor Outlawed for Soldiers Over 60! Embrace the Glory"

    "Tax Breaks for Brandishing Melee Weapons! Get Up Close and Personal"

    The one eyed swat commander then stand on podium. "The best way to reduce the social security burden? Make old people die faster! It''ll save billions by lowering average life expectancy to the 40s! Will you die old, broke, and forgotten? Or will you die a legend?"

    The program abruptly cut to a commercial. A heavily armored car roared across a desolate desert landscape, plowing through a group of shrieking mutants. "You can do it, coward!" flashed across the screen as the car launched itself off a makeshift ramp at the edge of a cliff. Below the ramp, a crudely painted sign read: "Great talent has always a little madness mixed up with it." The commercial ended with a close-up of the armored car''s grill, splattered with what looked suspiciously like mutant blood. "V200: Less gasoline consumption, more blood."

    Furqan pushed open the door to Wanderer¡¯s quarters. The air inside was stale, thick with the scent of unwashed laundry. something vaguely metallic. and a thinner. Wanderer lay sprawled across his bed, a mountain of blankets and discarded tech obscuring him from view.

    "What?!" Wanderer groaned, his voice muffled by the pillow.

    The door fully creaked open, revealing Furqan standing in the doorway. Dressed in his usual white attire, Furqan looked concerned.

    "I haven''t seen you at the mosque in ages. What''s keeping you so busy?"

    Wanderer groaned again and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow. "I''m... I''m sick!" he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

    Furqan chuckled, a hint of amusement in his tone. "You''ve got a cold again, huh?"

    Wanderer pretended to think for a moment, his voice muffled by the pillow. "...Something like that," he replied.

    Furqan walked over to the bed and placed a hand on Wanderer''s forehead. "Hmm, you seem to have a bit of a fever. Are you sure you''re not just trying to get out of work?"

    "Yo man, you''re not my mom," Wanderer retorted, his voice still muffled.

    Furqan raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Not your mom, but I''m always worried about you, my friend. You''ve been pushing yourself too hard lately. You need to take better care of yourself."

    He sat down on the bed next to Wanderer, a concerned look on his face.

    "You''re playing a game now? You should be resting and taking care of yourself. No wonder you have a fever," Furqan said, gently taking the game device from Wanderer''s hand.

    "Here, let me take care of you for a while. You just rest and let me do the worrying, okay?"

    Wanderer groaned and tried to grab the game device back. "Noooo!"

    Furqan chuckled and playfully ruffled Wanderer''s hair. "Hush, you big baby. You need to rest and get better. Here, I''ll make you some soup. It''ll help you recover faster."

    He set the game device aside and stood up, heading to the kitchen to make soup for Wanderer.

    "Stop acting like a housewife," Wanderer grumbled. "I''m not even sick. I''m just... bored, you know."

    Furqan looked over his shoulder, a teasing smile on his face. "Oh, so you''re just a lazy bone, huh? You''re not fooling me, Wanderer. I can see right through your lies. Just admit it, you''re sick and need to rest. And I''m not acting like a housewife. I''m just taking care of you like a true friend."Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Wanderer sighed into the pillow. "I''m¡­ kinda¡­ just¡­ stuck in my head, man. You know?"

    Furqan¡¯s tone softened. "I get it. Sometimes you just need a mental reboot. Why don''t you do something you enjoy? Read, listen to music, go for a walk¡­ something to clear your head."

    Wanderer considered this. "...Maybe¡­ maybe I need to see the woods."

    Furqan smiled warmly, pleased with Wanderer''s suggestion. "The woods, huh? That sounds like a wonderful idea. Going into nature can be very therapeutic. It can help clear your mind and give you a sense of peace and calmness. Why don''t you give it a try and see how you feel?"

    He stood up from the bed, offering his hand to Wanderer. "Let''s take a walk in the woods and breathe in some fresh air. It''ll do you good, trust me."

    Wanderer hesitated for a moment, then took Furqan''s hand. "Alright, but let''s ask Shizuka to be around. So we''re not awkward."

    "Good call," Furqan agreed. "She could use a break too. And yeah, awkwardness is definitely to be avoided when you''re feeling off. Come on."

    Wanderer groaned again, but this time, there was a hint of resignation in his voice. "Nyoooh!"

    Furqan chuckled at Wanderer''s reluctance. "Oh, come on, don''t be so grumpy. It''ll be fun, I promise. We''ll walk, enjoy the scenery, and just relax. Who knows, maybe we''ll even spot some animals in the woods. It''ll be an adventure!"

    He offered his hand to Wanderer, a playful smile on his lips. "Come on, let''s go. Shizuka''s waiting for us."

    Wanderer hesitated for a moment longer, then took Furqan''s hand. "Alright, but don''t blame me if we get attacked by mutants."

    Furqan rolled his eyes, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, don''t be such a worrywart, Wanderer. The animals in the woods are more afraid of us than we are of them. We''re not going to get attacked by anything. Besides, we''re not even in true mutant territory, it''s just woods. You''ll be fine."

    He gave Wanderer a playful nudge, trying to lighten the mood. "So come on, let''s go enjoy the great outdoors."

    The air was crisp and clean as Wanderer, Shizuka, and Furqan ventured deeper into the woods. The dense foliage offered a welcome respite from the harsh desert sun, and the sweet scent of pine needles filled their senses. A narrow, overgrown path, likely a pre-apocalypse logging trail, wound its way through the trees, Twisted metal fragments, remnants of some forgotten war machine, lay half-buried in the undergrowth

    As they walked, A small clearing opened before them, dappled with sunlight filtering through the canopy. Several crudely carved wooden totems, adorned with feathers, animal bones, and brightly painted symbols, stood clustered around a weathered stone.

    Furqan paused, his gaze drawn to the intricate carvings on one of the totems. "Look at these decorations, Wanderer. It''s interesting how the local people leave these offerings in the woods. Maybe it''s to give thanks to the spirits or to ward off bad luck. I wonder if they have any spiritual significance."

    Wanderer, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. "Paganism?"

    Furqan pointed to a totem carved with a stylized two bear''s head with a horn. ''These symbols remind me of ancient animistic beliefs, where natural objects and phenomena are believed to possess spirits. It''s similar in some ways to the pre-Islamic beliefs of my ancestors.''"

    Wanderer¡¯s attention shifted to an old tree, its bark scarred with deep engravings. The language was a strange mix of archaic forms and something more modern, almost¡­ coded. He traced the lines with his finger, reading aloud, his voice low and thoughtful:

    "¡­there have been many powerful warriors through millennia¡­ but the ages of the Second Apocalypse have begun to tear the fabric of the Realms¡­ the critical point has finally been reached¡­ it was foreseen that combatants would one day grow too powerful and too numerous¡­ if left unchecked their intensifying combat would weaken and shatter the Realms and bring about their hell¡­ The Free World Army under Zion invade, challenge everyone¡­ oh my God¡­ the Elder Gods demanded a safeguard to put in place¡­ to avoid total Destruction¡­ one that would make use of the insensational bloodlust¡­ like moths to a flame they would be drawn to battle¡­ when everything seems bleak. A hero rise from ash of old world. from the carphatia he led the true horde and chasing the zion army away¡­ but the old hatreds will be revived¡­"

    Wanderer furrowed his brow; the engraving abruptly ended, as if the carver had been interrupted. The last few words were etched more hastily, almost scratched into the wood.

    Furqan, oblivious to Wanderer''s discovery, took a deep breath, savoring the stillness of the clearing. "It''s moments like these that make me thankful for the simple pleasures in life. The beauty of nature, the diversity of cultures, and the mysteries that still exist in this world."

    Wanderer couldn''t help but smirk. "What do you mean? I like war crimes."

    Furqan rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. "Oh, come on, Wanderer. Don''t be such a hard-ass. Having empathy and compassion doesn''t make me a nerd. It just makes me human."

    He put his arm around Wanderer''s shoulders and gave him a playful shake. "Besides, showing understanding and mercy is what sets us apart from the mutants we face. We''re not just mindless killers, you know."

    As they continued their journey, Wanderer couldn''t help but feel a sense of peace and tranquility wash over him. The quiet solitude of the forest offered a stark contrast to the chaos and violence they had faced in the almost dialy basis.

    Just as they were about to emerge from the woods, Wanderer''s comm crackled to life.

    ¡°Mhm¡­ what now,¡± Wanderer muttered, glancing at the display on his intercom. The message was simple, stark: Old Commander Dead.

    ¡°Not again¡­¡± he sighed, a weary resignation in his voice. The old man had been hale and hearty just weeks ago¡ªa bull of a man. Assassination? Or had the old fool finally realized his own incompetence and taken the coward''s way out? No¡­ too blind, too arrogant for self-reflection. Wanderer looked at Furqan, a new thought dawning on him. What kind of crazy is going to be running this Ordo now? ¡°Here we go again.¡±

 Chapter 21 A Womans Mandate

    The air in the SWAT command center was under new wind. The recent, mysterious death of their old commander had sent shockwaves through the entire faction.

    wanderer attend the funeral ceremony. they are blend of prussian military parade, full with their iconic spike helmet.

    He stood in line, his dark cloak a stark contrast to the rigid uniformity around him. The announcer''s voice boomed, "Friedrich Hindenburg¡­ a final farewell." A military anthem blared as the coffin slowly descended. A some SWAT officers reflexively snapped into a roman salute before awkwardly correcting themselves to a standard military one. Wanderer sighed at the gesture then watching the glass coffin sink into the dark cold ground.

    Later, Wanderer dismounted from his mobile home¡ªthe Bastion itself. This place felt different, more¡­ lively, after the old commander''s demise. A noticeable change met his eyes: women moved freely throughout the facility. In the past, the SWAT faction had adhered to strict gender segregation, ostensibly for efficiency. Women were relegated to the subterranean levels, performing more mundane tasks as a separate part of their society. Wanderer strode towards the main hall, taking in the unfamiliar sight.

    At the center of the table, Aresia, a woman with blonde hair and braid, spoke in a calm, collected voice. "It''s easy to see the dangers posed by the mutants, the Series Nine, and the True Horde. They must be destroyed before they threaten our way of life."

    A one-eyed SWAT commander nodded, his face etched with concern. "Your father''s legacy has been one of constant war, profitable, yes, but undeniably dangerous. Will you follow in his footsteps?"

    Aresia''s voice remained steady. "My legacy will be my own. I will not blindly follow in the past''s footsteps. I have the power to shape our future, and I will do so with careful consideration and strategic planning."

    "I understand our history and the dangers it brings. But I was not raised to run from them. I was born to face them head-on, with the full force of my will and spirit."

    "My goal is not conquest or war, but survival. And to survive, we must evolve."

    "Evolve?" Wanderer muttered, spinning his chair.

    Aresia nodded. "That is correct, Wanderer. The world has changed, and so must we. We cannot cling to old ways if we want to survive. We must learn and adapt, evolve if necessary, to face the challenges of the new world."

    "The mutants, the Series Nine, and the True Horde are not to be taken lightly. They have strength and cunning that we have not yet seen before. We must prepare ourselves for the challenges that lie ahead."

    "So, nuke?" Wanderer asked nonchalantly,

    Aresia met Wanderer''s gaze, calm and assured. "While a nuclear strike might seem tempting, the consequences would be catastrophic. The fallout would devastate not only our enemies but also the surrounding lands¡ªand our own people." She paused, her expression turning serious. "Moreover, our resources are stretched thin. A nuclear strike would leave us vulnerable to counterattack."

    Wanderer sighed heavily. "I thought you were just like your father."

    "I understand your concern, Wanderer," Aresia replied, her voice firm. "But I am not my father. I''ve learned from his mistakes and will not repeat them." She leaned forward slightly, her tone becoming more persuasive. "I believe in a different approach: diplomacy, negotiation, cooperation. We must find common ground with other factions, build alliances. Only then can we secure a true future."

    "Alright, at least you like to speak to... those... half-animals," Wanderer muttered, rising from his chair.

    "I understand your sentiment," Aresia countered, her voice remaining even. "But even those we label ''half-animals'' are capable of reason if approached with respect and understanding. We are all human, after all." She paused, her gaze sweeping across the room. "We''ve been fighting for too long, lost too many. I want us to live in peace, to build a better future for ourselves and our children. But I need you on my side, Wanderer. I need your help to make this vision a reality."

    Wanderer left eyes flinces slightly" alright,,  so tell us your dream.. more specifically,, what your answer for short man power? do we keep our breeding house? and do we will keep trick immigrant to flock into swat to be a cannon fodder? and about what your answer when the patricah soldier feel.. now they lead by.. woman?

    Aresia stood tall at the head of the table, her voice measured and resolute. " "The breeding houses¡ªthose corporate-run flesh farms¡ªare an abomination. They will be shut down immediately. No more selling human lives as corporate assets."

    The declaration hung heavy in the air, a ripple of murmurs spreading through the room. Some nodded in agreement, others exchanged uneasy glances. Abolishing the breeding houses was a radical departure from established norms.

    "Instead," Aresia continued, her voice gaining strength, "we will implement a stable, efficient, humane recruitment process. We will no longer deceive immigrants. We will offer them sanctuary, a place to call home, free from persecution." A few soldiers shifted uncomfortably, the concept of treating immigrants with dignity clearly foreign to them.

    "I understand some patrician soldiers may struggle with serving under a woman," Aresia acknowledged, her gaze firm. "But it''s time they learned to respect leadership regardless of gender. Women are just as capable as men." Another wave of murmurs, this time tinged with more open dissent, swept through the room. Aresia remained unfazed.

    "Our future isn''t in wars of conquest, but in building a sustainable society," she insisted. She scanned the room, observing the reactions. She saw hesitation and uncertainty, but also glimmers of hope. "I know this is a lot to process," she said, her voice softening slightly. "This isn''t the strategy you''re accustomed to. But we must evolve, and quickly. The mutants, the Series Nine, the True Horde¡ªthey aren''t waiting for us to catch up. We must act, now. With smart strategies, open minds, and collective effort, we can not only survive but flourish."

    She met each soldier¡¯s gaze, her own unwavering. "Are you with me?"

    A chorus of "Yes, ma''am!" erupted,  "Then let''s move forward. Let''s show the world we are not just warriors, but healers, builders, leaders."

    A  veteran stepped forward, . "Ma''am, I''ve fought my whole life for this faction. How can I just lay down my arms and trust these outsiders?"

    Aresia nodded, "Soldier, I understand. But we must be willing to adapt if we want to survive. Our priority is no longer domination, but cooperation."

    The veteran hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I hear you, ma''am. I respect that you''re trying to do what''s best."

    Aresia placed a hand briefly on Wanderer¡¯s shoulder, her expression earnest. "I appreciate your¡­ patience, Wanderer. I won''t let you down." She turned back to the room, her voice regaining its command. "On that note, I have an announcement. The breeding houses are hereby disbanded."Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Wanderer clapped a hand to his forehead, a dramatic gesture that drew everyone¡¯s attention. "Nothing, please, continue," he said dryly.

    A small smile tugged at Aresia''s lips. "Of course, Wanderer. As I was saying¡­ the breeding houses are defunct. We will no longer force anyone into reproduction. Our focus will be on consensual relationships and family planning." She paused, letting the implications sink in. "This is not only the right thing to do, but it¡¯s also crucial for building a stable and sustainable society."

    The SWAT commander leaned forward. "We need a clear plan to manage our reproductive resources. Otherwise, we risk further destabilization."

    Aresia nodded. "You''re right, Commander. We need a comprehensive plan. I propose establishing family planning centers and reproductive health clinics to provide education, resources, and support. We''ll also allocate resources to improve access to birth control and reproductive healthcare¡­"

    Wanderer sighed again. "Which means cutting the defense budget, doesn''t it?"

    Aresia turned to him, a reassuring smile on her face. "Not necessarily, Wanderer. We understand the importance of a strong defense and the welfare of our people. We''ll balance our resources accordingly." She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "In fact, these centers will improve troop morale and overall health. Healthier, happier soldiers are better soldiers."

    Wanderer nodded, his expression contemplative. "I hope reality meets your expectations," he said, acknowledging her vision.

    Aresia returned her focus to the room, her determination palpable. "I have faith in our ability to make this transition smoothly and effectively. Our focus must be on collaboration, compassion, and mutual respect. We will work together, listen to one another, and forge a better future for all." She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the road ahead. "Are there any other concerns, gentlemen?"

    Then, a thin man with nerd appearance, the assistant stepped forward, projecting a holographic map of the surrounding area. "We''ve detected increased Caliphate activity, Captain. They''re mobilizing forces near the border."

    Aresia¡¯s gaze sharpened. "Thank you, Assistant. This is a serious development. We need to be ready."

    She turned to Zane, the another SWAT commander who present. "Commander, what''s our defensive posture? Can we hold against a full-scale Caliphate assault?"

    Zane scratched his chin, his eyes fixed on the map. "We have a solid defensive line, but it wouldn''t withstand a sustained attack. We need options."

    Aresia nodded. "Agreed, Commander. The Caliphate is a formidable foe, and we cannot underestimate their strength. despite they no longer with their messiah " She turned to the assistant. "Have there been any reports of communication attempts from the opposite side? Do they seem interested in diplomacy or just open warfare?"

    The assistant shook its head. "No diplomatic overtures have been made, Captain. All signs point to an imminent invasion. The Caliphate''s rhetoric has turned increasingly hostile, painting us as infidels and threats to their way of life."

    Zane leaned in,"If they''re willing to cross the border, it means they''re confident in their numbers and firepower. We need to hit ''em hard and fast before they gain a foothold."

    Aresia considered Zane''s words,"You''re right, Commander. Hit fast and hard, but we must also be strategic. We need to hit their weak points, not just blindly charge into their strengths. We need a well-planned and coordinated attack to minimize our losses and maximize our gains."

    She looked around the room, her gaze meeting each soldier''s eyes in turn. "Are there any suggestions for where to strike? Any intelligence on their weak points or vulnerabilities?"

    Wanderer spoke up, his arms crossed. "Don''t be too hasty. They might just hunt down some freak. Or... let me talk to them. I''m a merc. I''m a neutral dude in the wasteland."

    Aresia turned to Wanderer. "Wanderer, your experience as a mercenary and your neutral status could prove valuable in this situation. However, I am hesitant to send a single individual as our envoy. We cannot rule out potential threats, and your safety would be a priority."

    She paused, her brow furrowing in thought. "I appreciate the spirit behind your offer, but I''m not certain it''s the best course of action. What do you think, Commander Zane?"

    Zane nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Wanderer does make a good point, though. His reputation and neutrality could provide an opportunity to open a dialogue without risking a full-scale confrontation. It could give us time to prepare our defenses and gather intel." He glanced at Wanderer. "But we need to ensure his safety above all else. If anything goes wrong, we will be left vulnerable."

    "I''m from there, and some of them know who I am," Wanderer said confidently

    Aresia looked at him, her interest piqued. "Wanderer, can you elaborate on that? How exactly do you know some of the Caliphate''s soldiers? And more importantly, how could you guarantee your safety if you were to visit them as an envoy?" She turned to Zane. "Commander, do you think it''s possible to coordinate a safe extraction if the envoy were to run into trouble?"

    Wanderer leaned back slightly, a hint of a smile on his lips. "You see, it''s a long story after the Great Coalition War. In short, I was an ally with them at that time. And don¡¯t worry about extraction. Just give me the tools, and you will see why your father cannot depose me."

    Aresia listened carefully, her brow furrowed in thought. Finally, she nodded slowly. "Wanderer, I understand that you have history with the Caliphate, and perhaps you could indeed be an asset in this scenario. However, before I can approve your involvement, I need more information. How reliable are your contacts within the Caliphate? Are they still loyal, or have they since changed alliances? I cannot risk our people''s safety if we can only trust half of your words."

    "At least we are both fellow humans and fellow comrades," Wanderer replied then lean on chair. "That kind of vibe is unexplainable, you know?"

    Aresia raised an eyebrow. "Wanderer, you have a way of speaking cryptically. I''ll admit, it''s a bit... unnerving." She leaned in slightly, her gaze focused on him. "I understand what you''re saying, but I need more concrete assurances. You claim to have a connection with the people of the Caliphate, and while that may be true, it still doesn''t give us a full picture of the situation. How can we be sure that you won''t be viewed as a traitor?"

    "TRAITOR?! How dare you!" Wanderer''s voice rose slightly as he stood, but he quickly sighed and sat back down. "I bet you had the impression that I¡¯m just a soldier of fortune, isn¡¯t it?"

    Aresia held up her hand,"Wanderer, I apologize if my choice of words offended you. It was not my intention to imply that you are a traitor. I simply want to assess the situation thoroughly before making any decisions. We cannot afford any miscalculations that could jeopardize our position."

    She took a deep breath and looked directly at him. "You must understand, Wanderer, that in our line of work, trust is a rare commodity. We need to know that we can rely on you and that your intentions are true."

    Wanderer put his hand on his forehead, "What I do is to stop a potential full-blown war because some woman who leads this ''ordo'' made a decision in less than a day."

    Aresia''s gaze hardened slightly. She straightened up, her voice calm but firm. "Wanderer, I appreciate your concern for avoiding full-blown war, but I must remind you to choose your words carefully. I am the current leader of this ''ordo,'' and my decisions must be respected."

    She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Our priority is to protect our people and ensure their survival. If there is a credible threat to our faction, I will act accordingly, regardless of personal feelings or opinions."

    "Good. Then that''s what I''m saying. Now, choose.," Wanderer replied,

    Aresia met his gaze, a flicker of determination in her eyes. "Wanderer, I understand your concern, and I appreciate your offer to mediate. If you are willing to act as my envoy to the Caliphate, I authorize the mission. You¡¯ll have the necessary resources and support." She paused. "But if anything goes wrong, we''ll be ready. Your safety and success are paramount. Keep us informed and work towards the best possible outcome. Are we clear?"

    "Yes," he replied,

    Aresia nodded, satisfied. "Very well. I¡¯ll prepare the resources and arrange the meeting. I trust you to navigate this with wisdom and caution." She turned to Zane. "Commander, ensure Wanderer has everything he needs."

    Finally, she turned back to Wanderer. "Best of luck, Wanderer. May the gods'' light guide you."

    The assistant nodded, taking notes. "Very well, ma''am. We shall make sure to provide him with all the necessary equipment and support." He turned to Wanderer. "Sir, follow me. I''ve prepared your gear and mapped out the route to the Caliphate."

    "Good days, gentlemen... and woman," Wanderer said, following the assistant for his incoming mission as envoy.

    Aresia watched him go, a mix of anticipation and concern in her eyes. She turned to the rest of her team, her voice firm. "Commander, we prepare for any eventuality. High alert at all times. Be ready to react quickly. I¡¯m hopeful Wanderer will succeed, but we must be prepared for anything."

    She looked at the holographic map, the Caliphate border a flashing red line. "Commander, I want a full assessment of our defenses within the hour. And I want contingency plans. All of them."

 Chapter 22 Sharp Tongue

    A woman in a glamorous suit appeared on a large monitor in the Bastion''s hallway, holding a perfume bottle. She murmured, almost to herself, "Judicial revolution¡­ reducing activism¡­ appointment of judges¡­ restraining the High Court of Justice¡­ ¡°she then turn the bottle perfume. and show a the label Fascism¡±. Smells like democracy to me." ended with a wink.

    The assistant led Wanderer through the base''s bustling corridors. The air vibrated with the sounds of soldiers prepping for missions and the clang of weights from the gym. As they walked, the assistant filled Wanderer in on the situation.

    "Things with the Caliphate have been¡­ spicy, lately, sir," he began, his tone serious but casual. "The Mermaid settlement popping up has really stirred the pot. Some folks think it could kick off a full-blown civil war over there. That¡¯s why your mission is so critical ¨C to open up comms and hopefully keep things from exploding."

    They arrived at a supply room, the walls packed with high-tech gear and weaponry. "Here¡¯s your loadout, sir," the assistant said, gesturing to the array of equipment. "Top-of-the-line stealth gear: invisibility cloak, silent pulse rifle. Designed for undetected infiltration."

    Wanderer examined the pulse rifle, a smirk forming on his lips. "We¡¯re here to speak, not to kill. But new toys are always good," he replied, his eyes scanning the weapons. "But tell me, what do you mean the Mermaid could spark a civil war within the Caliphate?"

    The assistant handed Wanderer the pulse rifle, explaining its features. "This baby will give you the edge you need. Silent mode, low energy signature, and a built-in cloaking device. Perfect for covert ops." He paused, considering how to explain the situation with the Mermaid. "Well, sir, you see... The Mermaid''s settlement represents a challenge to the traditional values held by many in the Caliphate. If her influence grows, it could split the Caliphate apart."

    Lowering his voice, the assistant glanced around to ensure no one else could hear. "There are rumors that the False Prophet, a charismatic figure who opposes the Caliph, has been secretly supporting the Mermaid."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "What is this? Why have I never heard this before? Who are you?"

    The assistant nodded towards the others to leave. "I''m just a man trying to survive in these troubled times. As for your question, I''ve been keeping tabs on things. It''s not easy getting information out there, especially when dealing with such secretive factions."

    He crossing his arms over his chest. "But don''t worry, I''m sure you''ll get used to all this intrigue soon enough. Now, if you''re done with the small talk, let''s focus on the mission at hand."

    Wanderer narrowed his eyes, "No. Do you think I will just brush it over? Tell me, what¡¯s your true agenda?"

    The assistant sighed, running a hand through his hair. "My ''agenda,'' as you put it, is simply to keep everyone alive and breathing. These factions are like a game of chess¡ªevery move has consequences. I want to make sure those consequences aren''t fatal ones."

    He stood up, pacing around the room. "I provide information, equipment... whatever it takes to level the playing field. That way, nobody gets too powerful or reckless. So yes, my ''true agenda'' is stability amidst chaos."

    Wanderer crossed his arms, "I hope so. Are you the... puppeteer guy?"

    The assistant stopped pacing and turned to face Wanderer. "Puppeteer? No, not exactly. More like an observer, really. I watch from the sidelines and step in when necessary." He sat down again, leaning back in his chair. "I don''t pull strings or manipulate people directly. I just give them the tools they need to survive on their own terms."

    "Alright," Wanderer said, ¡°So far, you talk well. Because if you don¡¯t, I will make you see your brain splattered."

    The assistant raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Mutilation and threats, Wanderer? How very unphilosophical of you." He stood up slowly, moving around the table until he was standing directly in front of Wanderer. "But I understand your point. Actions speak louder than words, especially in our line of work."

    "Good day to you," Wanderer replied, turning to leave.

    The assistant chuckled softly, "Indeed. A good day to you as well, Wanderer."

    Wanderer mounted the airship, settling into the designated spot as the engines roared to life. The craft ascended into the sky, leaving the ground behind. Watching the airship carry him away, the Assistant turned back towards the horizon, his eyes scanning the distant terrain.

    ¡°May God protect him... and guide him safely home,¡± he murmured,

    Later, in the vast expanse of desert sand, Wanderer finally encountered the Caliphate forces crossing the SWAT border, an area that had once been a great city. a legendary one. the last stand of Zion before he defeated on great coalition war, but now its was a desolate city, ravaged by radiation and depleted uranium. both sides using lot of bullet.

    Amidst the rubble, mutated plants, bright colors jarring against the yellow-brown sand, twisted towards the sky. Occasionally, a mutated creature scurried among the debris. Wanderer dismounted from the airship and walked among the ruins. He found a man leaning against a beat-up buggy, surrounded by empty bottles.

    ¡°Hey, dumbass,¡± Wanderer said. ¡°What are you doing here? Don¡¯t you know it¡¯s¡­ unhealthy to be here?¡±

    The man, clearly drunk, slurred, ¡°I¡¯m honoring my brother¡­¡± hic ¡°¡­he died fighting the Red Army¡­¡± He pointed to a ruined building. ¡°There¡­¡±

    ¡°I see. And you? what path you will going to die? Choking on your own vomit?¡± Wanderer pulled the man to his feet. ¡°Get your ass out of here. It¡¯s a warzone now!¡±

    ¡°Hey¡­ chill, man. Another war? Fuck it. I don¡¯t fear death.¡± He tried to sip from an empty bottle, then tossed it into the dust.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fear death? You¡¯ve got nice armor and a car there,¡± Wanderer gestured to the man¡¯s gear. "You could be doing something more than just wasting your life."If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s all repetitive, man. People doing the same thing, acting the same way¡­¡±

    ¡°Want something new? Join me¡­ as cannon fodder. At least you¡¯d die for something.¡±

    ¡°Huh? Who are you¡­ ¡± The man squinted, his eyes widening slightly. while looking at wanderer eyes¡±wait¡­ you¡¯re him! That¡­ uh¡­ what¡¯s your name again?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m him. Just call me Wanderer now.¡± Wanderer let the man drop back to the ground.

    The man coughed, then stood up, a newfound energy in his movements. ¡°My name¡¯s Nishi¡­ ready to serve your excellency!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that. Just Wanderer. Any Caliphate movement around here?¡±

    ¡°Them? Yeah¡­ just south of here.¡±

    ¡°Good. Show me.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re just gonna kill ¡®em? Wow¡­ finally, a worthy death!¡±

    ¡°Not that fast, son. We¡¯re going to talk to them.¡±

    Wanderer stood in the dust kicked up by the advancing Caliphate troops. He noted their better equipment¡ªclearly superior to standard SWAT issue. Their sensors picked him up quickly, and guns were raised.

    ¡°Chill, guys¡­ I¡¯m here to talk,¡± Wanderer said into his comm.while hide among the rubble

    A figure emerged from the Caliphate ranks, dismounting and walking towards him. He was a high-ranking officer in ornate armor bearing the Caliphate emblem. ¡°Who approaches the Caliphate without permission?¡± the officer demanded. ¡°State your business, stranger, or we¡¯ll assume you¡¯re hostile.¡±

    ¡°Good... I¡¯m the Wanderer. You might know one or two stories about me,¡± he replied,

    The officer¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of recognition in his face. ¡°Ah, yes¡­ Wanderer. Your reputation precedes you.¡± He paused. ¡°If you come in peace, we¡¯ll be cautious. Follow me; I¡¯ll take you to our commander. We can discuss why you¡¯re here.¡± He turned and walked back towards his lines, expecting Wanderer to follow.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Wanderer said while rise among ruins then he look at Nishi ¡°just stay here guard the airship ¡°, he then step behind the officer.

    Wanderer observed the disciplined formation of the troops. They carried a mix of old and new weapons, all well-maintained and ready. nodded to the guards and stopped Wanderer. He went inside. Inside the tent, the there is a another officer sitting on desk with serious face. on his name tag its say Abu Azrael.

    ¡°Assalamualaikum¡­ welcome to the desert, Sheriff,¡± Wanderer said casually. ¡°What brings you to SWAT territory?¡±

    The officer¡¯s Abu Azrael expression softened slightly at the greeting. ¡°Waalaikumusalam,¡± he replied. ¡°I¡¯m here to protect our borders from threats like yours, But since you¡¯ve come peacefully, we can talk.¡± He gestured to cushions around a low table with dates and water. ¡°Please, sit.¡±

    ¡°Hmhm... but based on the border, you are the one who violated the territory, man,¡± Wanderer smirked while took a sit.

    Azrael raised an eyebrow,his gaze narrowing slightly. He took a moment to consider Wanderer''s words before responding. ¡°Indeed, it appears I am the trespasser here.¡± He paused,

    then sighed deeply. ¡°But let us not forget that both our territories exist within the larger context of this desolate land. Our paths inevitably cross, whether willingly or otherwise.¡±

    then he gesture others to leave the tent,

    ¡°Okay¡­ always remember,¡± Wanderer winked, his tone light. ¡°You can¡¯t bribe me.¡±

    ¡°I would never presume to try,¡± he replied coolly. ¡°We are here for discussion and negotiation¡ªnothing more.¡±

    ¡°Okay... So, I assume you want more land?¡± Wanderer leaned back.

    The Azrael expression turned serious. ¡°Our need for expansion is a key factor in our being here,¡± he said, pouring water. ¡°The Caliphate has grown since the war, and our resources are stretched thin. We need more land for our people, for our future.¡±

    ¡°You want more sand to rule?¡± wanderer asked with smirk

    The Azrael tilted his head. ¡°Rule? No. That¡¯s not our goal. The Caliphate wants stability, growth¡ªnot domination.¡± He leaned back, crossing his arms. ¡°We want to expand peacefully, through alliances. But we must secure what we need to survive. What do you suggest?¡±

    Wanderer nodded. ¡°Yeah, but you know the wasteland. Bandits, mutants¡­ atheism,,, nothing fancy here¡±

    The officer nodded slowly. ¡°In a world without faith, how can humanity rebuild? We must preserve Islamic values.¡± He looked at Wanderer. ¡°How do you protect your people from these influences? How do you maintain order?¡±

    Wanderer took a breath. ¡°I¡¯ve worked with SWAT for years. Extreme problems need extreme solutions,¡±

    Azrael frowned. ¡°Extreme measures¡­¡± he murmured. ¡°SWAT¡¯s methods often clash with our principles. Their violence goes against our compassion. ¡°He looked intently at Wanderer. ¡°But our goal should be to uplift humanity, not degrade it.¡±

    Wanderer shifted. ¡°Easy to say if you¡¯re not fighting them. I try to find something humane in mutants, but it¡¯s hard when they want to eat me.¡±

    Azrael expression softened. ¡°I understand. Constant exposure can erode empathy.¡± He leaned forward. ¡°The True Horde¡¯s violence is troubling. But not all mutants are like that. Many just struggle to survive. They adapt in both admirable and disturbing ways.¡±

    Wanderer ask. ¡°So¡­ are they infidels? Or are they outside that category because they¡¯re¡­ half-animal?¡±

    Azrael shook his head thoughtfully. ¡°It¡¯s not simply about infidelity. It¡¯s about interpretation. The Quran doesn¡¯t address mutants directly. We must apply Islamic principles thoughtfully.¡± He leaned back. ¡°The True Horde, despite their mutations, still carry the essence of humanity. They have intellect, emotions¡­ perhaps even souls. But their practices are barbaric. We must find solutions that benefit everyone¡ªhumans and mutants.¡±

    Wanderer leaned forward. ¡°If you had to choose an enemy, who would you take out first? SWAT or the True Horde?¡±

    Azrael stroked his beard. ¡°Both are dangerous. But SWAT is a more immediate concern.¡± He leaned forward. ¡°Their ideology is rooted in hate. They see non-believers as inferior. They could spread their poison and destabilize the fragile peace.,, they are remnant of old world hatred¡± He looked grim. ¡°They¡¯d target both combatan and civilians. We can¡¯t let our guard down with such hostile entities.¡±

    Wanderer leaned back. ¡°You talk like they¡¯re subhuman,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve worked with them for years. I¡¯m Muslim too. I¡¯m with them because they mostly target mutants.¡±

    Azrael nodded. ¡°But their actions are based on a twisted worldview. we can¡¯t let our guard down with hostile entities like SWAT..¡±

    Wanderer sipped from his flask. instead the cup on table ¡°SWAT¡¯s in an internal struggle. Give us time. It¡¯s better than war,¡± he suggested.

    Azrael leaned forward. ¡°Prolonged conflict benefits no one. Peaceful coexistence should be the goal. We must understand each other. But we also need strength and preparedness. We can¡¯t be vulnerable.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ can you go back where you belong and keep trading? We¡¯ll handle things in SWAT,¡± wanderer lean on chair.

    ¡°Trading fosters understanding. But understanding isn¡¯t always enough.¡±¡± Azrael sighed.

    ¡°As long as there¡¯s hostility, lasting peace is hard.¡± His expression hardened. ¡°But we¡¯ll do what we can. Maybe if we focus on building bridges¡­¡±

    ¡°Stop talking like I¡¯m a royal delegation. Do you want your men dying in foreign lands?¡± Wanderer asked directly.

    Azrael eyes narrowed. ¡°Of course not. No leader wants that.¡± He leaned back, ¡°But sacrifices are sometimes necessary. If we do nothing, we risk losing everything.¡±

    ¡°You want blood. I¡¯ll give you worthy blood. How about the True Horde or Series 9?¡± Wanderer suggested.

    Azrael eyebrows rose. ¡°Worthy blood? The True Horde¡­ their abilities and chaos. The Series 9¡­ their technology¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s a risk. Unpredictable. Volatile. They can inflict damage, but there¡¯s potential gain.¡± He paused. ¡°If it¡¯s between them and continuing this¡­ I wouldn¡¯t dismiss your offer.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t see SWAT as a rival,¡± Wanderer suggested. ¡°See us as an ally against those barbarians.¡±

    Azrael nodded thoughtfully. ¡°An alliance with SWAT¡­ interesting¡± He sighed. ¡°But we can¡¯t forget their past, their current state. They¡¯ve changed since the war¡ªtheir beliefs hardened. They once fought against the tyranny of the Free World Army, but they¡¯re slowly becoming what they united against.¡± He looked at Wanderer. ¡°But there¡¯s strength in numbers. If we find common ground, their ferocity could be useful against these¡­ ¡®barbarians.¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Good! Then a non-aggression pact?¡± Wanderer asked.

    ¡°A non-aggression pact¡­ a good start. A gesture of goodwill.¡± He looked at Wanderer. ¡°Your strategic thinking is commendable.¡± He extended his hand. ¡°Let¡¯s move forward¡­ against our common enemies.¡±

    Wanderer shook his hand, the deal sealed. As he turned to leave, the officer added, almost as an afterthought, ¡°This¡­ this will require discretion. Not all within the Caliphate will understand this shift in policy.¡±

    Back at the SWAT base, Aresia stood with the assistant, the report in her hand. A relieved smile touched her lips. ¡°Wanderer did it. A non-aggression pact with the Caliphate¡ªfor now.¡±

    She turned to Zane. ¡°This is good. Progress toward¡­ something.¡±

    Zane nodded, then he rub his brown hair. ¡°Good work, Wanderer. But we stay vigilant. We still don¡¯t know their true objective.¡± He paused, his gaze distant. ¡°We use this to gather intel. Capabilities, weaknesses¡­ intentions.¡±

    The assistant spoke, his synthesized voice even. ¡°Commander Zane¡¯s correct. This pact is a step, but we can¡¯t relax. The Caliphate¡¯s history speaks for itself.¡± He projected a holographic map, highlighting key areas which smaller nation is join with caliphate.

    Suddenly, Wanderer¡¯s voice crackled over the comm, ¡°You¡¯re all so damn paranoid...xenophobic warmonger bastards,, hah.. Just give me that raise, okay? We might meet again¡­ I¡¯m out.¡± The connection cut.

    ¡°That Wanderer¡­¡± she murmured,

    Zane turned from the map. ¡°He¡¯s right about one thing,¡± he said, his voice low. ¡°We are paranoid. And for good reason.¡± He looked back at the map, his tone hardening. "This changes nothing. We prepare for the worst."

 Chapter 23 Direct Violence

    Still mentally exhausted from recent events, Wanderer continued their new little habit while at home. As weeks passed, he, Shizuka, and Furqan found solace in their peaceful walks through the woods, exploring hidden trails and enjoying each other''s company. they even start decorating the path with car wrecks body part. turn it into a fence and a makeshift gate,

    "It''s nice to have moments like these amidst all the chaos and violence," Wanderer thought to himself as he walked alongside his companions. "It makes me to just chill more."

    Wanderer murmured, a rare smile touching his lips. Then, the silence shattered. A stench, acrid and foul, drifted on the breeze. As they ventured deeper into the woods, Wanderer noticed something off in the distance¡ªa pile of bones and excrement.

    He motioned for Furqan and Shizuka to stay alert. They immediately tensed, ready for any potential threat. Cautiously, Wanderer stepped forward, examining the area for any signs of movement. With weapons drawn, they carefully scoured the surroundings. Using his drone, Wanderer scanned the area until he spotted something unusual on a nearby cliff.

    When they found a path to descend, they discovered a gruesome scene: dead bodies of both mutants and humans lay scattered on the ground, bullets shells and arrows.

    Wanderer''s blinked several times as he took in the sight. Mutated bodies lay lifeless, their eyes staring blankly at the sky. He exchanged a concerned look with Furqan and Shizuka,

    After checking the corners of every boulder and noticing no signs of life, Wanderer holstered his silver pistol. "They¡¯re starting to make expansions... the True Horde. These people were probably Series 9 goons."

    Furqan nodded, "You''re absolutely right, Wanderer. It looks like they both are expanding, encroaching on new territories." He looked around, taking in the carnage ¨C a wrecked sports car, its driver impaled with a giant spear. "We need to be on our guard. We don''t know what we might face next. We can''t afford to let our guard down for a moment."

    Wanderer let out a heavy sigh. "I always ask Gott to help me, but things just keep getting tougher."

    Furqan looked at him, a hint of concern in his eyes. "I understand how you feel, Wanderer. Sometimes it feels like the world is against us, like we''re facing one challenge after another. I''ve felt that way too. But we can''t let doubt and despair consume us. We have to keep fighting, keep pushing forward, even when things seem impossible." He paused, then added subtly, "Even when it feels like God has abandoned us, we must have faith that He has a bigger plan."

    He placed a reassuring hand on Wanderer''s shoulder. "We''re strong, Wanderer. We''ll get through this. Together."

    "You make it sound easy," Wanderer replied, "I even wonder if Gott just... you know... sees the things happening and decides to ignore us."

    Furqan nodded, "It''s true that we can''t always understand why God allows the hardships we face. There are times it feels like He''s ignoring our cries for help. I''ve grappled with those same feelings. But remember, We just have to trust that He''s with us, even when we don''t feel His presence."

    Wanderer knelt down beside one of the human bodies, noticing a tattoo of a symmetrical pattern.

    Furqan then continue. "I get where you''re coming from, Wanderer. Faith is a difficult thing to hold onto in times like these.."

    He glanced at the tattooed body with a frown. "And maybe we should remember that even amongst our foes, there are lives and stories that deserve respect and compassion."

    "What are you even mumbling about? Let''s get back to base," Wanderer said,

    Furqan nodded, "You''re right, Wanderer. Let''s make our way back to base and inform the others about what we''ve discovered. ¡°

    Later, at their new base near the Mermaid settlement, Wanderer gathered his lieutenant Chrome, Furqan, Shizuka, and the new lieutenant Oboro. Nodira leaned against the corner of the room, listening intently.

    "Alright," Wanderer began, his tone serious. "The non-aggression pact between SWAT and the Caliphate has triggered a power struggle between the True Horde and Series 9. They might increase their aggression in the wasteland. We might have to align closely with SWAT for a long time, but given their recent leadership changes, we can''t keep relying on them."

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    Furqan nodding in agreement. "You''re right, Wanderer. The changing power dynamic in the wastelands, with Series 9 making an entrance,¡±

    He looked around the room,. "So, what''s our next move, everyone? Do we have any ideas for forging new alliances or strategies to handle the potential threat from the True Horde?"

    Chrome chimed in with a suggestion. "What if we try to reach out to Series 9 and see if they''re willing to form a strategic partnership with us? We can offer our skills and resources in exchange for their protection and support. It could be a mutually beneficial arrangement."

    Oboro nodded in agreement. "That''s not a bad idea. The Series 9 mutants are formidable fighters, and having them on our side could give us an edge in any potential conflicts."

    Wanderer shook his head, a frown creasing his brow. "You both are crazy as always. We just stole their stuff months ago. Do you think they will just forget it because of pragmatism?"

    Chrome raised an eyebrow. "I see your point, Wanderer. But we can''t let previous conflicts limit our options. The wastelands have a way of making old enemies into potential allies. Things change all the time around here."

    He gestured at the room. "And we have a lot more to offer than just stolen goods. Our skills and knowledge in strategic warfare are valuable assets that Series 9 may find useful. I say it''s worth a shot."

    Wanderer sighed, "I hate them to the core. As you know, after the Great Coalition War in the past, those crime syndicates created a civil war within the coalition forces, which almost risked the entire human race. IF You love your own kind; you must hate them as I do."

    Furqan nodded, "Wanderer, I can empathize with your feelings. Your past experiences have shaped your viewpoint, and no one can take that away from you. It''s not for me to say how you should feel. What matters is what''s best for our group, not our personal feelings or grudges."

    He gave Wanderer a firm look. "We have to be pragmatic, Wanderer. The Series 9 might be our best bet to strengthen our position."

    Wanderer closed his eyes and crossed his arms. "I wonder what the prophet would say when he sees you on the Day of Judgment."

    Furqan shrugged, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I wouldn''t worry too much about what the prophet would say, my friend. If he''s a wise and fair prophet, he''ll understand that the circumstances we face call for pragmatism and strategic thinking. We have to make difficult decisions in this cruel world, and sometimes that requires forging unexpected alliances for survival."

    Wanderer opened his eyes, a hint of resignation in his expression. "But I''m not a prophet or a saint. I''m just a war criminal, a warlord."

    Furqan placed a reassuring hand on Wanderer''s shoulder. " While you may have a past filled with difficult choices and conflicts, we have all made our own peace with our past. Let''s focus on our present and the challenges that we face."

    Wanderer smiled, looking around at everyone in the room. "Yes, we are all fellow war criminals," he said, laughter bubbling up. "All of you, hahaha!"

    Everyone chuckled, a mixture of amusement and acceptance in their expressions

    "I guess we''re all in good company then, aren''t we? We may be war criminals, but we''re loyal to each other. That''s what matters in the end."

    "Alright," Wanderer said, his tone shifting back to seriousness. "Let''s see what Skull and Nero will say when we meet at the negotiation table."

    soon. messenger is send to series 9 via scout. and despite their past conflict. series 9 agree to talk.

    ¡°dying is nothing. whats terrible is not to live¡± chrome muttered on behind his steer while look at the scene.

    The abandoned construction yard echoed with the tense silence between Wanderer and the Skull Gang. Their weapons, drawn but not fired, created an atmosphere thick with anticipation.

    a Skull gang goon then throw a circular plate to the dark ash ground. he then smirk at wanderer. ¡°you wanna a alliance wanderer? then behold.. the Violence ¡° then A holographic projection of a figure cloaked in white against a black background, hovered over a device on the ground.

    "You... You scared behind those covers, huh? Not dare to show your own face, man?" Wanderer taunted,

    Violence''s voice, distorted through the hologram, was cold and calculating. "Who is this?"

    "I''m Wanderer," he replied, his tone unwavering.

    "Wanderer... Hmm, interesting name," Violence mused. "What do you want?"

    "Just a simple request," Wanderer said. "Stop increasing the aggression in the wasteland. You''ve done enough damage in the past."

    Violence scoffed. "So what? What are you going to do if I refuse?"

    "Nuke. Lots of them," Wanderer replied,

    "Nuke?" Violence chuckled. "You think I''m afraid of nukes? I''m not afraid of weapons. Try using your own power without weapons."

    A smirk crept across Wanderer''s face as he stepped forward and punched the hologram. The image distorted and flickered, but it quickly stabilized. "Satisfied?"

    "You just punched the hologram, not me," Violence said. "I want you to punch me."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "Then come meet me then. Why are you refusing to meet me in person?"

    "And where is that place?" Violence asked.

    "Your own Doom Tower," Wanderer replied,

    "Doom Tower? Hmm... I like that place," Violence mused. "Alright then, I''ll see you there."

    "And what will you do when I''m there? Trap me?" Wanderer asked.

    "Yes, yes I will," Violence replied without hesitation. "Your death will benefit me. So I will trap you. And you still want to meet me at the Doom Tower. Why? Are you really ready to die?"

    "No, just what do you really want in the wasteland?" Wanderer persisted.

    "Power," Violence said without hesitation. "I just want power and strength. I want to become the strongest person in the world. That is what I want. And you and your faction stand between me and that goal."

    "But there''s just sand and mutants here," Wanderer argued. "What will you gain from this place?"

    "Mutants," Violence replied, his voice filled with a sinister gleam. "Mutants are the key to my goal in this world. There is potential in mutants, and I will use their power. It is very powerful than normal human power. And I will use this power to turn everyone into my ally or vessel. With them on my side, no one can stop me. Not you, not the Caliphate, not even the wasteland itself."

    "You just revealed your goal without any filters," Wanderer said, impressed. "I respect that. It''s refreshing to see an antagonist proud of what they do."

    "Proud?" Violence scoffed. "I don''t feel any pride in my speech. I just answered your question about what I want in the wasteland. That''s all. Now that I answered it, tell me: What is your goal in the wasteland?"

    "Just to make sure humans don''t go extinct," Wanderer replied.

    "And this is your goal to stop me? So basically, you are an obstacle in my goals. I will still make you my vessel. I will still make everyone be on my side. That goal will not change. Not for few words I said today and not even for hundreds of years. My goal will not change."

    "Hmm, I''m dumbfounded," Wanderer said, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and amusement. "For the first time ever, while negotiating, I''ve met a truly mad man.,, or maybe not"

    Furqan listened intently to the tense conversation, his eyes flickering between Wanderer and the holograph of Violence.

    Furqan muttered, "How will the negotiation go? Will we reach a compromise, or will it end in violence?"

    Chrome who beside him just grin ¡°who knows? when two strong ego at same room.. its will become a good clash,, just keep your hand in machine gun controler, these skull gangs might do something funny after this¡±

    Furqan sigh, and hold his playstation controler who connect to the machingun turret on top of mobile home. while wanderer and violence still do a verbal sparring

 Chapter 24 Your Average Geopolitical diplomacy

    After brief moment "So you will stop me, right? Or you will continue to negotiate?" Violence asked,

    "Well, yes," Wanderer replied. "At least I will try to restrain you."

    "So what are you planning to do? Because you can''t stop me, so you are planning to attack me, right?" Violence pressed.

    "Let me ask you this," Wanderer said. "What happens after you conquer this glorified desert?"

    "What will happen after I conquer this region? I can get many resources and wealth while I can create my domain," Violence replied confidently. "That is what will happen if I manage to conquer this region. So what are you planning to do now?"

    "And what happens next?" Wanderer persisted.

    "And what happens after I become the king of the world and conquer many nations? I will make everyone kneel on their knees. Everyone on the world will acknowledge me. That is what will happen after conquering the world," Violence said, his voice filled with arrogance. "So will you give up on stopping me? Or are you still going to stand in my way?"

    "And do you think your own people might just rebel against a naive mad ruler like you?" Wanderer asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

    "They will not," Violence replied confidently. "When they all become my servants, they will not betray me. They will do as I command. You think you can make a rebellion? I can crush anyone who opposes me and make sure everyone stays on my side."

    Wanderer chuckled, his voice calm and light. Is this guy for real? Does he actually think he''s invincible? Okay, let''s play along for now. "Alright, I had nothing to say. Ahahahahaha."

    Violence narrowed his eyes, his tone hardening. "I didn''t expect you to be able to stop me. But you are brave that you still try to stop me. I respect that. But now with your failure...The least I can do is reward you...The reward is that I will add you to my plan to conquer the world and make you one of my servants in my future world. As a reward for your bravery. So what do you say?"

    Wanderer paced around the hologram, his eyes scanning the faces of the Skull Gang members. "I already got what I want... women, soldiers, vehicles, gas... What else can you offer to me?"

    Violence smirked. "What else can I offer?....Power and wealth maybe? You want to make your army stronger? I can help you with supplies and weapons. I can help you create a massive army on my side with the power of mutants...I can help you make mutants your allies and add more soldiers to your army...So what do you say? Are you going to join me or not?"

    Wanderer shook his head. This guy''s a megalomaniac. He''ll turn on anyone eventually."Well yes... but if I already conquer the world... then... I had no job. No enemy left... and it''s might boring don''t you think?"

    Violence laughed. "You are a little bit too optimistic are you? Don''t be fooled by my talk. I didn''t even conquer the world fully and you already assume there is no chance for me to lose in this world after I conquered the world? Well that is naive of you to underestimate me. This world is full of surprises. So many enemies in my sight and more enemies that will emerge to be an obstacle to me."

    Wanderer took a deep breath. "Tell me man... what makes you like this? Do you drink pills since you were born or what?"

    Violence grinned. "You are trying to understand me...Are you curious about my power? Why I like the power? Why I want all of them power for me? Well the reason is because...Power is everything in this world you fool. It is the only thing that can make you free in this world. Power is¡­ liberation. Freedom from weakness, from doubt, from everything. With power, I can shape the world as I see fit."

    Wanderer shook his head. "Well no. I had power... but I can''t control what people think and feeling..."

    Violence scoffed. "Feeling? Who cares about feeling! That is bullshit! Feeling is just an obstacle! Power is the key to freedom and power itself is everything! Nothing matters in this world! Nothing matters but power! The whole world can be a toy if you have power!"

    Wanderer chuckled. "Alright... I bet you''re a BDSM practitioner hahaha."

    Violence smirked. "So what? Can''t handle the truth that I''m right? Feeling is worthless...You can''t get anywhere with feeling. You can''t change a country or the whole world with feeling. But you can change the whole world and the fate of the world with power. Power is everything. Do you have the same ideal as I am? Or is it a different ideal?"

    Wanderer sighed. "I already conquered the world after the great coalition war ended... but ruling vast regions is pain... so I just led this elite merc company... and roaming free."If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Violence raised an eyebrow. "So you don''t pursue more power? Don''t you want to become an immortal? Don''t you want to be on top of the world and crush your foe? Are you really happy with just roaming the earth?"

    Wanderer shook his head. "I don''t want to be an immortal man... it''s a lonely existence."

    Violence frowned. "But you can gain a lot in that immortal world. That is also an opportunity. You can do anything. You can create or break anything. I can''t believe someone rejects immortality for the sake of being human....Human is fragile. They can''t survive for more than 100 years and you reject immortality...Why?"

    Wanderer stop circling the hologram "I''m just tired of fighting all the time. This life..."

    Violence sighed. "Tired? Of ruling people? If you feel tired just give your rule to someone else...If you want to take a rest you can take a rest...Why must you reject immortality because of that?"

    Wanderer shook his head again, "I''m just tired of doing these things man... this all scenario... struggles... and even pleasure..."

    Violence chuckled, "Pleasure? The reason you don''t want to immortality and be a king is because you think it tired? You think your life is boring if you become a king and control the world?"

    Wanderer sighed,. "Yes, that correct... I''m no need god power because I''m not a god at first place... I''m just a human."

    Violence''s eyes narrowed, " Do you fear the responsibility or the boredom and loneliness? Or are you don''t have the will power to continue fighting? Is that why you surrender?"

    Wanderer''s gaze remained steady,. "I feel the excitement while fight... that is undoubtedly a warrior feelings... but the context, the reason... the purpose... that is something... I can''t... feel it anymore."

    Violence''s lips curled into a sneer. " This feeling....This feeling of adrenaline rushing through your vein. That is the feeling that make you feel alive...Isn''t it?"

    Wanderer nodded. "Yes..."

    Violence laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. "Then you are a simple warrior. A simple mindless warrior who don''t think too much to question his purpose. A simple warrior who is too afraid of the burden of his power... What a shame to all warrior."

    Wanderer shrugged. "Hmhm.. yes perhaps..."

    Violence''s laugh. "So you agree then? You are a weak simple warrior....You are weak and your will power break easily.... What a shame...."

    Wanderer chuckled,. "Yep... but I know my capability.. and know my limit.. unlike you."

    Violence''s face contorted into a mask of rage. "You said you know the extent of your ability? You are nothing but a fly to my sight."

    Wanderer''s expression remained calm, his voice steady. "Good..."

    Violence''s eyes narrowed, " I will easily defeat you and make you my servant....Do you surrender now?"

    Wanderer shook his head, "You even not trying yet."

    Violence''s expression softened slightly on his pixelated hologram, "You are right....I will admit that you are pretty good warrior. Maybe you not that useless, I can make you my servant and make good use of your combat skill if you give up now. What do you say?"

    Wanderer chuckled, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Do you think I will work with bully boss? No thanks.. my wife is mean enough for me ahah hahah"

    Violence''s laughter turned into a snarl. "You think I am one of those arrogant and ignorant type of king? If you want to call me a bully boss then I don''t care. The important thing is that you acknowledge my power....But it seems you still have this rebellious nature toward me....This attitude annoy me...."

    Wanderer sigh"Alright... dude... you hopeless... I bet you type who will fight anyone isn''t? And this meeting... after this moment... all faction in wasteland will know your attitude" Wanderer then showed the recorded video of the entire conversation on his comm.

    Violence''s expression remained unfazed. "You think I care about recording this entire conversation? Your recording do nothing to change the fact that I still want to make you my servant!"

    Wanderer shrugged, his voice calm. "Good! See you in battle field"

    Violence laughed, a cold, calculating sound. "Hahaha! That I will look forward to"

    Wanderer slowly walked backward, his gaze fixed on the members of the Skulls Gang surrounding them. His hand rested firmly on his holster, ready for any sudden movements. The tension in the air was palpable, each member of the gang equally tense, their eyes darting between them

    As the conversation came to a close, one of the gang members turned off the hologram and tucked the disk under his arm. "It looks like you made your choice, Wanderer," he said, his voice dripping with a mix of disdain and amusement. He then began to walk backward, signaling to the others. The Skulls Gang climbed into their sleek sports cars, engines roaring to life as they sped off toward the looming Series 9 skyscraper in the distance.

    Furqan watched as the Skulls Gang members left, the tension in the air slowly dissipating. He turned to Wanderer, a mix of admiration and curiosity on his face. "Wanderer, that was... intense. I must say, I''m impressed by the way you handled yourself.."

    He paused for a moment, a wry smile playing on his lips. "And recording that conversation was a bold move. I wonder what the other factions will make of it."

    Wanderer sighed, glancing at the comm on his left hand. "Hmhm... it means war. But not just any war. A useful war. The wasteland will turn into a bloodbath again, but this time, ex-fellow humans will be annihilated." He looked toward the dark skyscraper on the horizon, then turned to Oboro and Chrome. "See, buddy? Once a destroyer, always a destroyer," he said, implying that negotiating with Series 9 was futile from the start.

    Oboro nodded in agreement with Wanderer''s assessment. Chrome chimed in, a hint of admiration in his voice. "You''re right, Wanderer. It seems like Violence isn''t the negotiating type. But hey, at least we''ll have a hell of a fight on our hands. Right, boss?"

    They exchanged grins,. Though this may not have been the outcome they were hoping for,

    Furqan sighed,. "So it appears that diplomacy failed. It''s unfortunate, but sometimes conflicts can escalate beyond words.. If war is what they want, then war it is."

    He turned to Oboro and Chrome. "Are you guys ready for this? It''s going to be a tough fight."

    Chrome nodded, "We''re always ready for a tough fight, comrade. In fact, we prefer it that way!"

    Furqan couldn''t help but smile at their contagious spirit. "That''s the attitude I like to hear. Let''s do this!"

 Chapter 25 Morning Relationship

    As time passed, wanderer start get intel of series 9 operation and their security system. overall its about the future invasion on Sin City might look like. augmented soldier. cyborg and gangs. its might will different compared with their last visit.

    One cloudy morning, a convoy of armored vehicles arrived, belonging to Wanderer. He dismounted after his soldiers and made his way to the school. As Vila was teaching a class, the sound of vehicles arriving outside interrupted her lesson. Curious, she led her students to the window to see who had arrived.

    "Class, we have visitors. Let''s go see who came," she said, guiding her students cautiously. As they stepped outside,

    "Good morning... sorry to disturb your class," Wanderer said,

    Vila greeted him cordially, a hint of curiosity in her gaze. "Ah, Wanderer, it''s a surprise to see you here. There''s no need to apologize. What brings you here this morning? And who might your companions be?"

    "Just my extra entourage," Wanderer replied, his tone casual. "The wasteland has become a bit hot nowadays. Better safe than sorry."

    Vila nodded in understanding, "I see. I suppose it''s better to be prepared for any unexpected encounters. But may I ask, what brings you to Rayaskent specifically? Is there something I can assist you with?"

    "Yes," Wanderer said, his expression turning serious. "Can we speak in a private place?"

    Vila raised an eyebrow, "Ah, a private conversation, huh? I guess we can find a suitable place for some peace and quiet. Come with me, Wanderer." She turned and started walking toward a secluded area nearby, at back at school. a gazebo with a small pond on it. As they walked,. "So, how old are you?"

    Vila chuckled softly, a playful glint in her eyes. "Wanderer, asking a lady''s age? What''s next, are you going to ask if I''ve dyed my hair blue to keep up appearances?" She paused for effect, a wry smile playing on her lips. "But to satisfy your curiosity, let''s just say I''ve seen more sunrises and sunsets than most. Age is just a number, after all. Now, why are you interested in my age, Wanderer? Have you finally succumbed to the allure of a mature woman?"

    "I like women who are mature and know what they want and how to achieve it," Wanderer replied,

    Vila chuckled, "Ah, Wanderer, I see you have a taste for women with experience and determination. Well, that suits me just fine. Let me tell you, I''ve been on quite the journey myself, and I indeed know what I want and how to get it." She met his gaze, "So, what about you, Wanderer? What do you desire in a woman? Strength, resilience, or perhaps a touch of danger?"

    "Confidence," he said simply. "You see, it''s a very rare trait to have in a woman."

    Vila nodded,. "Ah, yes, confidence is a cherished trait in a woman, isn''t it? It is indeed rare to find, but oh, so alluring. It speaks to a person''s independence, their ability to stand tall and not be swayed by the opinions of others." She looked at Wanderer playfully, a hint of a challenge in her smile. "Is that what draws you to me, Wanderer? My confidence?"

    "Hmhm... so you like me, huh?" he teased.

    Vila laughed softly  "Ah, Wanderer, you''re quite the character. What can I say? You have a certain charm, a unique aura about you. I find you intriguing, and in a world where surprises lurk around every corner, intrigue is not to be taken lightly." She met his gaze. "So, Wanderer, why do you ask? Are you trying to figure me out, or are you simply fishing for compliments?"

    Wanderer lowered his mask and smiled a bit. "Kinda."

    Vila''s eyes widened slightly as he revealed a small smile. "Wanderer, I must admit, your smile is quite captivating. I have to wonder, what else are you hiding beneath that mask and your enigmatic exterior?"

    "A bone and meat... with blood," he replied,

    Vila chuckled softly,"Indeed, Wanderer, we are all bones, muscle, and blood beneath our skin. It''s a fascinating and essential part of our existence, isn''t it? Our bodies are the vessels that carry us through life''s journey, and our blood, the life force that keeps us going. So, in a way, we''re all walking, talking skeletons, aren''t we? " Her eyes twinkled playfully as she continued, "So tell me, Wanderer, what else lies beneath?"

    "Dark soul," he said simply.

    A slight smirk tugged at the corner of Vila''s lips, amusement sparkling in her green eyes. "A dark soul, huh? That''s quite a fascinating revelation, Wanderer. So, you believe ''darkness'' resides within you, does it?" Her tone turned slightly teasing as she leaned in closer, her eyes locked onto his. "And what, pray tell, does this ''darkness'' entail, Wanderer? Is it a troubled past, a hidden guilt, or perhaps a hint of something more sinister? I must admit, you''ve piqued my curiosity."

    "I know... those mutants, including you, might not choose to be born with it. We all are kind of born this way," Wanderer paused, closing his eyes as he chose his words carefully. "Because of God''s wisdom," he continued, meeting her eyes. "But still, I find it hard to destroy my... racism toward different kinds."Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    Vila tilted her head and responded in a gentle yet firm tone. "Wanderer, it is indeed true that people don''t choose how they''re born. But your ability to recognize your prejudices and desire to change them is already a step in the right direction. True change doesn''t happen overnight; it takes time and a commitment to growth." Her voice softened as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Know that with patience, understanding, and kindness, we can challenge our prejudices."

    Wanderer looked at her hand on his shoulder. "Tell me... do you like power?"

    "Wanderer, your question is intriguing. Do I like power, hm?" She met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. " While I understand the allure of power, I believe that true strength lies in compassion and understanding." She squeezed his shoulder gently before withdrawing her hand.

    "And, in the end, true strength comes from the heart¡ªfrom the kindness and compassion we extend to ourselves and others. That, Wanderer, is the power I truly cherish."

    "I still didn''t get a clear answer from you, dear," Wanderer pressed,

    Vila laughed softly, "Very well, Wanderer, I shall answer your question directly. Yes, I have experienced the allure of power. In the Wasteland, survival often requires navigating complex power dynamics. As a leader, I''ve had to learn the art of wielding power strategically. So, to answer your question, yes, I have wielded power and understand its allure. But I also believe that true strength lies in compassionate leadership."

    Wanderer¡¯s expression turned serious. "Will you sacrifice your people for greater power?"

    Vila''s demeanor grew stern, "Wanderer, True leadership is not about personal gain; it''s about serving and protecting those who rely on you. Your question, Wanderer, is misguided and goes against everything I stand for."

    "Good," Wanderer replied, a

    Vila nodded, a small smile playing at her lips. "Wanderer, your ability to see the wisdom in my answer is commendable. It seems there''s more to you than just brute force. Perhaps, in the depths of your soul,." She regarded him thoughtfully, a flicker of warmth in her eyes. "Tell me, Wanderer, what drives you on this journey of yours? Is it merely the quest for power, or do your true ideals reside somewhere beneath your hardened exterior?"

    "I might be the most paradoxical person you will ever meet. I like war, but on the other hand, I like peace," Wanderer then lean on rail of gazebo.

    Vila''s expression softened, her eyes filled with empathy. "Wanderer, your confession speaks volumes. It''s no easy task to reconcile the paradox of loving war and yet desiring peace. But perhaps these seemingly opposing forces simply reflect a deeper yearning within you." She leaned a bit closer. "Tell me, Wanderer, do you seek balance amidst the chaos? Is that what drives you on this quest?¡±

    "Hm... I am both a sadist and a compassionate person," he admitted.

    Vila chuckled softly, nodding eagerly. " fascinating. It seems you contain a range of conflicting elements. Let me ask, Wanderer, how do these different aspects coexist within you?"

    "God is indeed complex too, isn''t he? He is both creator and destroyer, both compassion and punisher. Yet, despite this, we worship him¡ªmost of us¡ªand love him, some of us," Wanderer mused.

    Vila nodded thoughtfully, "Wanderer, you speak truly.. It seems life itself is a reflection of these contradictions, a dance between opposites that shapes our experiences. Tell me, Wanderer, do you think this complexity mirrors our own nature as humans, or does it surpass it?"

    "I can''t tell. The more I learn about God, the more I don''t know him," Wanderer replied,

    Vila laughed softly, nodding in agreement once again. " A profound realization, Wanderer. The mysteries of divinity¡­ the more we seek, the less we seem to know.¡±

    "I learn to use to it. But tell me, among these sermons, do you truly love Allah?" Wanderer asked, his tone shifting to something more serious.

    Vila paused, considering his question before answering with sincerity. "Wanderer, I do not love Allah in the way one would love a father or a friend. I have utmost respect and admiration for Allah as the supreme creator and sustainer of the world. My love for Allah is more akin to reverence and gratitude. I believe that our love for Allah is expressed through our actions and our love for each other¡± she then look at the duck in pond who swimming in circle. ¡° It is not a feeling we can simply describe with words, but rather a commitment to live a life aligned with His teachings and strive to be good to ourselves and others."

    Wanderer leaned back against the bench near the gazebo, pausing before he spoke again. "I... don''t love him," he admitted. "At first, I thought my prayer and my devotion were symbols of love to him, but actually, that was a lie. I prayed to him because I wanted something in return. It was transactional. When the world got harder, I always questioned him during my prayers, while I knew his wisdom. But I always wanted something."

    "Wanderer, your honesty is commendable. It''s a difficult revelation, recognizing that your prayers were not truly rooted in love but in expectation. But, even in this realization, there lies an opportunity for growth. Perhaps the question to ponder now is this: how can you transform your prayers into a genuine connection with Allah? Remember, your journey of understanding and self-discovery is a process. It doesn''t happen overnight."

    Wanderer chuckled softly, "Heh... I might love my soldiers and my woman more than God himself," he said, tapping his lips and then smiling a bit. "But I hope God loves me."

    Vila chuckled softly,  " Remember, Wanderer, even in moments of doubt and uncertainty, a flicker of hope can ignite the flame of love and faith within your soul. May that spark grow brighter, even in the darkest of times."

    Wanderer sighed heavily. "Well, yes... it''s hard to love something that doesn''t speak our language, isn''t it? Enough about this conversation, though. Let''s get back to the earth realm conversation."

    Vila nodded in agreement, " What other matters or questions do you have on your mind?"

    Wanderer met her gaze, his expression serious. "Yes... it''s about the future war in the Wasteland."

    " Tell me about the situation and how I might assist in preparing our community and ensuring safety and stability." She leaned slightly forward,

    "So, you want to work with me? The stinky warlord?" Wanderer asked,

    Vila chuckled, "Wanderer, your self-deprecating sense of humor is quite endearing. If your intentions are genuine and our goals align, then we may find common ground for cooperation. If our goals align, we can cooperate. But Rayaskent comes first. Always."

    "Good girl..." Wanderer replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

    Vila laughed softly, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Wanderer, I must admit, your compliment brings a smile to my face. It''s good to know you appreciate my determination. ¡°

    she then look around at the serene atmosphere, and in windows she can see some her student trying to peeking through windows. he then look at wanderer

    ¡°Now, about this war¡­ What do you have in mind? Because if you think I¡¯m just going to hand over my people to be used as cannon fodder, you¡¯re sadly mistaken"

    Wanderer leaned back against the gazebo railing, a calculating look in his eyes. "I have a proposal..." he then proceeded to outline his plan for integrating his mercenaries with Rayaskent''s defenses, offering better prices and services in exchange for protection. but at same times maintain the neutrality of rayaskent. and keep it simple to the population because the complexity of the situation. As he spoke, Vila watched him carefully, her expression unreadable. The ducks in the pond continued their endless, silent circles.

 Chapter 26 Pyramid of bones

    wanderer then saw different reaction from swat and caliphate, and they agree to set up differences to fight the more aggresive threat like the Series 9. wanderer then rub his temple on this news while lean on chair at mobile home. he is in deep thought.

    Nishi. a man who wanderer found in ruins before come in

    ¡°Yo.. wanna drink? i had whole creates . and its not goint to empty itself¡± he offer him vodka bottle

    ¡°no.. im sane enjoyer.¡± rub his ferehead

    ¡°too bad¡± he then glug from bottle. ¡°ahhh.. so.. we got new war?¡±

    Wanderer gave him a look

    "What? You''re the one who orchestrated it, ain''t ya?" Nishi lowered the bottle, his eyes narrowing slightly.

    "Yeah¡­ but I had no choice," Wanderer muttered. "It''s like¡­ that trolley problem¡­ that stupid meme¡­"

    Nishi chuckles ¡°aye...¡± then he take a sit on the floor then speak ¡°so.. why you here?¡±

    ¡°mhhm? Mhmm?! What do you mean? I live here, ¡°wanderer ask

    ¡°you know.. you had. kinda have a your own nation right?,,a better and stable.. lot of chicks¡± nishi look at him then glance at world map in screen

    Wanderer''s gaze drifted back to the holoscreen. "...This is my nation now," he said quietly. He paused, then added, "And¡­ you should probably get some mouthwash. Seriously."

    SWAT and the Caliphate were mobilizing, a fragile alliance forming against the Series 9 threat. Good. Just as planned.

    but deep within the rugged valleys of the Wasteland, A pyramid of bones, the remnants of cybernetic humans,

    Beside this macabre monument, two warriors clad in crimson exosuit armor, their helmets adorned with deer horns, stand guard. They are of the Blood Khaganate,

    "They desecrated our ancestors'' land, all for the sake of their so-called Earth Blood," the khan  grumbles. "What a primitive way of thinking. How many wars must they wage before they realize the futility of their path?"

    He turns to his retainer, his eyes ablaze with determination. "It is time for us to take the initiative. We shall finish them once and for all."

    The retainer with deer helmet nods eagerly. "Yes, my lord! Let us teach these monkeys and cockroaches a lesson about respect for nature ¨C by force!" He taps his spear against the earth,

    Later, at the southern border, chaos erupted as the Blood Khaganate, a half-mutant faction that had previously maintained a non-aggression pact with SWAT, launched a sudden and brutal attack. Flaming arrows arced across the sky, setting the SWAT outposts ablaze. Their heavily armed assault vehicles, modified with ramming blades, smashed through the perimeter fences.

    Reports flooded in, detailing the capture and destruction of several SWAT frontiers.

    Aresia''s face twisted in shock and anger as she absorbed the news. "What''s their intention? We had a non-aggression pact with the Blood Khaganate!" Her voice was urgent as she turned to her assistant. "What do we know about their assault? How extensive are the attacks, and where are our troops?"

    "Ma''am, we''re stretched thin. Series 9 is the priority, and Wanderer''s mercenaries are nowhere near the southern border. Reinforcements will take time."the assistant replied,

    Aresia cursed under her breath, her patience wearing thin. "That damn merc. Where the hell is he?" She looked back at the assistant, her voice tense. "What''s the status of our reinforcements? When can we provide support to our troops under attack?"

    "Yes, ETA is six hours. Delayed because of the sandstorm... only the God intervention can help the garrison hold up against the attack," the assistant''s face turned grave.

    Aresia gritted her teeth, her eyes narrowing. "We don''t have that long. We need to buy our troops more time. Can we deploy drones or aerial support?"

    She turned to Zane "What other options do we have? We can''t leave our soldiers alone against the Blood Khaganate''s assault."This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    "Ma''am, the drone and air support are out of the question. There''s too much jamming and radar detection. Even if we use stealth tech, the chance of success is slim. The best we can do is send a team of infiltrators. Their mission: disrupt supply lines, sabotage communications, create chaos. Buy us time," Zane explained.

    Aresia sighed, acknowledging the limitations of their options. "Alright, if that''s our best bet, then let''s act accordingly. Choose your best infiltrators¡ªpeople who can work well in small teams, think on their feet, and have the necessary skills and experience for this mission."

    She paused, her expression hardening. "This is not a time for hesitation. Our soldiers are relying on us to help them. Let''s not let them down."

    Zane nodded. "How about the Young Commander? He has tactical brilliance and is stationed nearby."

    Other SWAT commanders nodded in agreement with the suggestion. "The Young Commander would certainly fit the bill, His strategic prowess is unmatched, and he''s familiar with the area. Plus, his disregard for human life might come in handy in such a dangerous situation."

    Zane took a moment. "I''ll also suggest some of my trusted veterans. We need people who know how to handle themselves under pressure and won''t hesitate to take action when needed."

    Aresia nodded approvingly. "Very well. I trust the Young Commander''s skills and tactical abilities. He has a reputation for being... unconventional; I''m counting on him to think outside the box and find solutions that others overlook."

    "I''ll leave the selection of your trusted veterans to you, Commander Zane. I know you''ll choose the right people for the job. And be sure to notify our soldiers at the frontline to prepare for reinforcement."

    An hour later, the situation at the SWAT frontier fort was critical. their bunker are being attack by the flames arrows. and bushes and scrubs at nearby is being burned. limited the defender vision.

    The Blood Khaganate began scaling the walls, their exo-suit armor absorbing most of the SWAT weaponry. Just as they were about to break through, the Blood Khaganate Khan received a message. "My lord, our village is burned by the Young Commander''s forces! He came from nowhere like a phantom and fast like the wind!"

    Khan looked at the SWAT frontier for the last time before pulling back to save his village.

    As the SWAT defender captain emerged from his command tent, he quickly scanned the battlefield, taking note of the retreat of the Blood Khaganate forces.. "Looks like we caught them off guard," he muttered while look at the nearby swat defender. "We need to capitalize on this opportunity while we can. Reinforcements will likely be sent soon, so we need to push hard and secure the perimeter."

    Aresia listened to the report with a satisfied smirk. "Excellent maneuver by the Young Commander. The element of surprise is our greatest weapon in this fight."

    She leaned forward, "Commander Zane, coordinate with our troops on the frontline and press the offense while the Blood Khaganate is on the back foot. We need to take advantage of their disarray."

    "This is our chance to regain control of our territory. Let''s not waste it."

    Meanwhile, in the Young Commander''s perspective, he led a small tactical armored vehicle, flames erupting from the flamethrower mounted on the front. their small all terrain atv is manage to passing the mountain trails and find a short cut to hit the khagan territory.

    village after village as they pushed deeper. The thrill of destruction surged through him, fueling his determination.

    As the Young Commander began his assault, Wanderer and Commander Zane finally caught up after the sandstorm had subsided. The sound of approaching engines echoed across the desert, the rumble of tanks and APCs filling the air.

    "Come on, boys! Don¡¯t let this boy steal the whole show! Move!" Wanderer shouted,

    The vehicles lurched forward, kicking up clouds of dust in their wake. At the helm of his own armored car,

    The assistant looked at the battle station beside her, his expression unreadable as he observed the Young Commander¡¯s forces pushing deeper into Blood Khaganate territory. Just behind him, the main Blood Khaganate army loomed, and trailing behind them, Wanderer and Commander Zane began to make their move.

    Aresia noticed the assistant''s concerned expression, "What¡¯s troubling you, Assistant? Are the Blood Khaganate''s forces closing in on him?"

    She turned to the large holographic displays, studying the movement of the Young Commander¡¯s force, the main enemy army, and the approach of Wanderer and Commander Zane.

    "This might be the end of the Khaganate. Even if they stop the Young Commander¡¯s warpath, Wanderer and Commander Zane will eventually catch up and attack from the rear. If the Khaganate decides to repel Commander Zane and Wanderer instead, they will lose their home."

    Aresia nodded in agreement. "Precisely, Assistant. The Blood Khaganate seems to be in a difficult spot. They¡¯re caught between a rock and a hard place. If they confront the Young Commander, they risk losing ground. But if they ignore him to deal with Commander Zane and Wanderer, they risk exposing their rear to attack."

    She pondered for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. "What do you think their next move will likely be, Assistant?"

    "It¡¯s hard to say... they might split their force," the assistant replied.

    Aresia nodded again. "Yes, that¡¯s a possibility. Splitting their force could be their only option if they want to deal with both Commander Zane and Wanderer, as well as confront the Young Commander."

    She began to pace back and forth, her mind racing with tactical calculations. "We have to be prepared, Assistant. We need to be ready to provide support if the situation escalates."

    as war rage, The crimson-clad warriors of the Blood Khaganate, their faces contorted in rage and grief, chased after the Young Commander through the smoldering ruins of their village. The once-vibrant community was now a turn into burning charcoal, and dead body everywhere, spare only few who lucky enough to hide and witnessed their fellow villager killed in cold blood

    "Do they even consider themselves human?" the Khan spat,

    As they regrouped and tried to pinpoint the Young Commander''s location, a messenger arrived with alarming news. "My lord! Another Swat force is approaching our borders!"

    The Khan paused, his mind racing. He knew he had to make a difficult decision. Splitting his forces was a gamble, but it was the only chance he had "You are our best hunter of our tribe, and you will pursue the Young Commander. I will deal with the incoming Swat forces."

    The retainer nodded, his eyes filled with a determined glint. "Understood, my lord. I will bring his head."

 Chapter 27 Battle of Black mountains

    Meanwhile, deep within the canyons of the Blood Khaganate territory, the Young Commander''s squad was making repairs to their vehicles. The engineer, his brow furrowed in concentration, worked tirelessly to fix a damaged APC (armored personal carrier) . The Young Commander, standing atop the armored vehicle, surveyed the surrounding landscape. his small stature is contrast on the more bulky swat soldier soldier surround him

    "We''re running low on fuel for our flamethrowers," the engineer reported, his voice filled with concern. "We may have to abandon some of our vehicles."

    The Young Commander''s face hardened. "We can''t afford to retreat now. We need to press deeper and inflict more damage." He paused, his eyes scanning the horizon. "We have a few more hours of daylight. Make it count."

    The engineer nodded, determined to do his best. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the canyons,

    As the sky darkened, casting long shadows across the landscape, the Young Commander lowered his binoculars, his gaze fixed on a serene village nestled amidst the canyons. The villagers, unaware of the impending danger, were lighting their homes with lamps and torches, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.

    "This is the last village we can destroy before we retreat to our territory," the Young Commander announced to his men, his voice filled with a determination. "Now, with the grace of our Gods, attack!"

    The armored vehicles roared to life, their engines churning as they advanced towards the unsuspecting village. The villagers, caught off guard, scrambled to prepare for defense, grabbing whatever weapons they could find.

    The Blood Khaganate retainer, having caught up to the Young Commander''s forces, witnessed the devastation unfolding before him. "That''s the devil!" he exclaimed, "Show no mercy to them!"

    The Blood Khaganate army joined the fray, clashing with the Swat soldiers in a battle amidst the burning village. The Swat soldiers fought with fierce determination, splitting their forces to inflict as much damage as possible. The warriors, led by the retainer, attacked from unexpected angles, their movements swift and precise.

    In the heart of the chaos, the Young Commander''s armored vehicle stood tall, providing fire support. The retainer, his eyes locked on the Young Commander, led a small force through the burning village,

    With a battle cry, the retainer charged towards the armored vehicle, his spear raised high and point at the apc.the tip of speak created a electric beam. the emp attack. its fray the apc camera and auto turret, force The Young Commander open his hatch to give direct command,,

    While the Young Commander and the retainer engaged in their battle in burning village, a separate battle was unfolding in the southern region of the Wasteland. Zane, realizing the critical situation at the frontline, ordered an artillery barrage against the Blood Khaganate forces.

    Meanwhile, Wanderer and his mercenary squad were closing in on the Blood Khaganate''s position. As they approached the canyons, the landscape was transformed into a more corrosive. littered with debris and craters from the relentless bombardment.

    swat truck armed with altilery is do their best make the black mountain get more black by their attack.

    The Blood Khaganate forces, their exosuits absorbing much of the damage, remained resolute. behind their bunker and pillboxes "It''s taking too long,,, we already late for party 6 hours ago" Wanderer pressed, "We''re wasting our missiles. We need to meet them head-on."

    "Alright," Zane agreed. "After the last barrage, we''ll break through their defenses and relieve the Young Commander. Who knows, we might even capture their capital."

    The final barrage rained down on the Blood Khaganate''s position, tearing through their defenses.their fort who nestled on the dark mountain is crumbling. some wall is exposed. The Swat forces and Wanderer''s mercenaries charged into the breach, their weapons blazing.

    The Blood Khaganate forces fought back fiercely, using traps and avalanches to slow the enemy''s advance. The battle raged on, a brutal and chaotic clash of wills and weapons. The canyons echoed with the sounds of gunfire, explosions, and the screams of the wounded.

    The Khan, watching the unfolding battle with a growing sense of despair, knew that defeat was imminent. he dont expect they will trying to break through, he just expect if they will siege the mountain fotress, He then ordered a retreat,into the depths of the black mountain. As the last remnants of the battle faded into the distance, Wanderer watched the retreating army through his drone''s thermal imaging.

    "That''s it," he muttered, punching the top of his mobile home. " the snake is turn back.. now cut the snake head!""

    With a renewed sense of purpose,

    ¡°they retreating with their baggage. give us time. if we can just cut through this mountain. we can catch them¡± he then look at variated gear his mercenary have. some had standard gear. some is had augmented legs. and exosuit. Wanderer led a small force to intercept the Blood Khaganate''s retreat. They navigated the rugged terrain, they maneuvering and scaling through the canyons and valleys with expert precision.

    Oboro, perched atop a high point, used his long-range rifle to slow the Blood Khaganate''s advance. His shots were precise, forcing the retreating forces to take cover between the boulders and trees,This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    As they reached their ambush point, the Khan, his bull helmet broken by Oboro''s sniper shot, emerged from the darkness. He stood tall, his gaze unwavering as he faced Wanderer forces.

    "Wanderer," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of defiance and resignation, "the legendary Darklord. It''s a shame your reputation has been reduced to that of a mere mercenary, a Swat dog."

    Wanderer, hidden among the boulders, spoke through his drone''s speaker. "Surrender," he said calmly. "We might spare you and your people."

    The Khan laughed mockingly, his voice echoing in the stillness of the night. "Spare us? After what we''ve done to your precious Oil? I think not, Wanderer. My people will fight to the last breath, just as we always have." He drew his sword, its blade gleaming ominously in the moonlight.

    Wanderer, hidden among the boulders he then look at is men first, then oboro speak ¡°they bit old school huh?¡±

    wanderer then look back at monitor muttered ¡°,, remnant of old world¡±

    then spoke through his drone''s speaker, his tone calm. "Surrender. We might spare you and your people."

    The Khan laughter faded, he then think a moment about his situation. and his rear. Zane force is soon catching up. then he speak. "But very well, if it''s surrender you want..." He gestured to his men, who began to lay down their weapons. spear, sword, and bolt action rifle is dropped to the ground "...then so be it. We yield to your mercy. Though I doubt you''ll show any." His eyes narrowed, searching for Wanderer''s hiding spot.

    "I hope you''re prepared to face the consequences of your actions, Darklord. For there will be retribution. The Blood Khaganate does not forget those who cross us." He sheathed his sword, standing tall amidst his defeated troops. "Now, come out and face me."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "What? You want a last duel? Do you think this is fucking medieval times?"

    The Blood Khaganate General chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, Wanderer. It isn''t medieval times. This isn''t some grand joust or tournament. This is survival. Life and death in the rawest sense." He stepped back, giving Wanderer space. "Come then, let''s see how much of a man you really are."

    Wanderer glanced at his force again, then at the monitor, assessing the battlefield. Finally, he revealed himself among the boulders, followed by his men. He descended slowly from the cliff, meeting the surrendering Khaganate force and its Khan. "So... you prefer to die by my hand than see the future, huh?" he said, hands on his hips, slightly panting.

    The Khan crossed his arms over his chest, "Oh, I prefer no such thing. But when your options are limited..." He shrugged. "...you take what you can get." He nodded towards the holographic monitors showing the battlefield on his hand. "Your forces have decimated ours. There''s nothing left to stand between you and whatever it is you seek."

    Wanderer replied, "Ah yes, that kind of trait belongs only to those too prideful to accept defeat."

    The Khan nodded slowly"Pride can be a dangerous thing, especially in our world. But so can cowardice." He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. "What will you do now, Wanderer? Claim victory, or leave us to rot here?"

    "You want to die? Then I can give you one." Wanderer drew his silver pistol and pointed it at the Khaganate General.

    The Khan eyes widened in surprise, but he didn''t flinch or raise his hands in surrender. "You''d kill me outright? After all we''ve been through?" His tone was almost amused,. "I thought you were better than that, Wanderer. Or maybe you''re just afraid of facing the consequences of your actions." He looked around at the scattered remains of his troops, then back at Wanderer. "Either way, go ahead and pull the trigger. See where it gets you."

    Wanderer shook his head. "Well yes, do you think I would use a sword and give you a last duel like what you want? I''m not that honorable."

    The Khan snickered softly, shaking his head slightly. "No, I didn''t expect you would. That''s why it''s amusing." He took another step closer, his gaze locked onto Wanderer''s. "But remember this: if you walk away from here without finishing what you started, everyone will know that you couldn''t handle it. That''s worse than dying right now."

    Wanderer frowned. "What? You talking about... you want to guilt trip me? You''re the one who broke the non-aggression pact, forcing me to do this."

    The Khan laughed softly while get closer to wanderer with his hand resting on sword,. "Non-aggression pacts are meant to be broken, Wanderer. That''s how wars start."

    as their distance close. the khan height is almost twice to wanderer. He then tilted his head slightly, "But no, I''m not trying to guilt trip you. I''m just pointing out reality. If you leave now... you won''t be remembered as a hero or even a villain. You''ll be forgotten."

    "Even the greatest hero will be forgotten. Now stop playing around and just surrender like the rest of your soldiers. Stop being stubborn and suicidal."

    The Khan sighed deeply, looking down at the ground for a moment before meeting Wanderer''s gaze again. "And what makes you think I''m not already forgotten? What makes you think anyone remembers my name anymore?" His voice was cold, almost detached. "But fine, let''s say I surrender. What happens then? Do you take me prisoner? Execute me? Or perhaps you decide to spare me because deep down inside you still have some shred of mercy left?"

    Wanderer replied slowly, "Your kind is still human in my eyes. We will... spare you and treat you like just another human being."

    The Khan raised an eyebrow, "Treated like just another human being, huh?" He chuckled dryly, shaking his head. "I''ve heard it all before, Wanderer. But let me ask you this¡ªdo you really think your kind can accept someone like me, with my mutations, my past, my beliefs?" His expression turned serious,. "Or will I always be seen as less than human, a monster to be studied and contained?"

    Wanderer considered this for a moment. "Hmm... we¡¯re not like Series 9. And you¡¯re under my capture, not SWAT''s. You have my word."

    The Khan leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your word..." He repeated the words slowly, as if tasting them. "That means something coming from you, Wanderer. More than you probably realize." A ghost of a smile played on his lips. "Alright, I''ll trust you. For now. But don''t expect me to roll over and play dead just because you say so."

    "Good boy..." Wanderer holstered his pistol and ordered his men to proceed with the work on the Khaganate soldiers'' surrender.

    The Khan rolled his eyes at Wanderer''s condescending tone. "Good boy? Really,,,Well, I suppose I should be grateful you''re not going to shoot me in the head."

    Then the news of the Blood Khaganate General''s surrender reached his retainer, who had almost overcome the Young Commander in the burning village. With a heavy heart, the retainer ordered his men to surrender and follow his lord''s order. He looked at the Young Commander''s forces, who cheered victory, feeling a mix of emotions in his heart.

 Chapter 28 Starlight and Steel

    After the event, the Blood Khaganate became a vassal of SWAT, forced to reduce their army and dismantle their once-proud bunkers in the wasteland canyons. The Khaganate understood that it was better to submit to SWAT as a vassal than to become breeding slaves or simply be massacred.

    In the palace of the Khaganate one morning, the Blood Khaganate retainer bowed to Wanderer. The young man stood tall, now without his iron exo-clad armor, dressed in a simple white garment.

    Wanderer observed the retainer, noting the stark contrast between his current appearance and the imposing figure he once was. "A humble retreat indeed," his gaze lingering on the man''s bowed head. he still never see anything on his life. a ex enemy bow to him without hidden hatred on their eyes.

    "Well, actually, it''s kind of funny," Wanderer continued, tapping his lips thoughtfully. "They don¡¯t give you a name since Khaganate culture removes people''s names while in power, I can''t call you ''Retainer'' while you work with me, as that kind of structure doesn''t exist anymore. From today, I will call you... Sanada." He nodded to himself, waiting for Sanada''s reaction.

    Sanada raised his head slightly, his eyes meeting Wanderer''s gaze. There was a flicker of something unspoken there, a mix of gratitude and resignation. "Thank you, I''m Sanada," he murmured, the word feeling foreign yet oddly comforting on his tongue. "It''s... an honor to serve under someone who understands the great war."

    "Yes, you know, your red-clad appearance and your story remind me of Sanada Yukimura. I''m kind of a weeb, you know," Wanderer said with a chuckle.

    A faint smile tugged at the corner of Sanada''s mouth. "I see you''re well-versed in the ancient histories, Wanderer," he remarked, "In another life, perhaps I would have donned such colors proudly, leading my men into battle with honor and valor...But alas, fate has seen fit to place me here, in this desolate wasteland, on the dying age¡±

    His shoulders slumped slightly,. "What say you, Wanderer? Do you believe in destiny, or do you forge your own path?"

    Wanderer blushed slightly, avoiding his gaze but then recovering. "Can you reduce such language? Please."

    Sanada chuckled softly, "Of course, my apologies if I''ve strayed too far into abstraction," he said, "Put simply, I''m curious about how you steer your course in this treacherous terrain, how you manage to keep your forces cohesive despite the ever-changing circumstances."

    "I don¡¯t know. Even I always wonder about myself. It¡¯s kind of luck as well. I mean, no matter how many books about war you read or how many hours you spend on war simulations, the outcome of battle is always wild," Wanderer replied. trying look calm despite feel..weird on sanada much flowery way of word

    "Indeed, there is a certain unpredictability inherent in warfare," Sanada reflected,. "It seems we share similar thoughts on the subject. Perhaps that is why our paths crossed."

    Wanderer nodded slowly,

    Furqan interjected, "Alright, enough philosophizing about destiny and paths. We''ve got a mission to plan. We need to make our move before Violence does. Any ideas on how we strike back at this rogue faction?"

    The group fell silent again as they contemplated their next move. Finally, Wanderer spoke up, his voice steady and determined. "I have a plan in mind. But it''ll take some time to set up."

    "And the plan is... a feast! Ahah!" Wanderer burst into laughter.

    Everyone shared an unsure look as Wanderer laughed. "What the..." Furqan muttered, confused.

    "A feast? Are you joking? We''re mercenaries, not party planners," Furqan replied,

    "Come on! I''m tired in body and mind. Let¡¯s show our gentle side to our new ally," Wanderer said, looking at Sanada with a smile.

    Furqan sighed but couldn''t help but smirk at Wanderer''s unexpected proposal. "Alright, alright. A feast it is. We''ll showcase our hospitality and our might before Violence does. But we''ll keep our guards up, just in case. Don''t want any surprises."

    "Yes... hoho hoho ohho," Wanderer laugh

    Furqan shook his head, chuckling at Wanderer''s peculiar laughter.

    "Alright, you heard the man. Let''s start preparing for this feast. Make sure everything is top-notch, from the food to the decor. We want to make a good impression."

    As the feast commenced, the atmosphere was lively. Laughter and music filled the air, creating a vibrant backdrop for the gathering.

    Blood khagan palace is was made by dark wood. with paint of color of red, their design is closer to a temple than a palace or fortress.

    Sanada observed the behavior of others with an unreadable expression, sitting cross-legged while sipping his drink. Wanderer noticed him and decided to join, settling beside him.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    "Tell me... how do Khaganate people enjoy themselves?" Wanderer asked, his voice loud enough to be heard over the electronic music.

    "The Khaganate people are fierce, but they know how to celebrate," he replied, his voice carrying a touch of nostalgia. "Traditional Khaganate festivities often involve grand feasts, where the community comes together to share food and drink. Music and dance play a major role, with the rhythmic beats of drums and flutes resonating through the night."

    He paused for a moment, his gaze distant. "But it''s not just about the festivity. The Khaganate people also value honor and strength...Traditional games, like wrestling and archery, showcase their prowess and skill.."

    A trace of a smile played at the corners of Sanada''s lips as he added, "And of course, there is the consumption of ''khuushuur,'' a deliciously stuffed dumpling, especially after a feast."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Khuushuur?"

    Sanada nodded,. "Khuushuur. It''s a specialty dish of the Khaganate, often served during celebrations or special occasions. Think of it as a meat pastry, stuffed with mutton, onions, and sometimes even potatoes. It''s a delicious treat that brings people together, shared over laughter and conversations."

    "Seems good... you must teach our chef about it," Wanderer suggested,

    Sanada raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by Wanderer''s suggestion. "You want our cook to learn how to make khuushuur? It would honor me to share our cuisine with your people.¡±

    He paused, a small smirk on his face. "But I am confident in your cook. And with my guidance, we can bring the Khaganate''s flavors to your table."

    Outside the base, Chrome stood alone with a drink in his hand, gazing up at the moon. After taking a sip, he sighed, enjoying the tranquility of the night. Suddenly, Nodira snuck up from behind and covered his eyes playfully. "Guess who?" she said, using a mock manly voice.

    Chrome chuckled slightly, recognizing her voice. "Well, with a zombie voice like that, it can only be you, Didi. What brings you out here?"

    He turned, grinning. "Want a drink? The party''s still going, but there''s plenty of night left." He offered her a goblet of local brew.  its liquid casting a faint shimmer in the dim moonlight. Nodira grinned and accepted the goblet, taking a small sip before responding.

    Nodira took a sip. "Just needed a break from the noise. It''s nice out here. So," she leaned against a pillar, "anyone catch your eye tonight?"

    Chrome nodded in agreement, a content smile on his lips "Yeah, it''s good to see everyone having fun. It''s a reminder that we''re still human, even with all the craziness." He paused, taking a drink. "But you''re right. Sometimes, it''s nice to just chill under the stars. Makes you think."

    Nodira nodded, her gaze turning to the stars scattered across the night sky. "It''s amazing how the night sky has a way of putting things into perspective, isn''t it? The vastness of the universe reminds us of our own insignificance. But at the same time, it fills us with wonder and a sense of purpose."

    She took another sip of her drink, her face illuminated by the gentle glow of the stars. "Perhaps we should make it a tradition to sneak out for these quiet moments under the stars."

    Chrome chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. "That''s a splendid idea.. Count me in for this tradition."

    He raised his goblet in a toast, his eyes reflecting the twinkling stars above. "To the stars that guide our way, and the quiet moments that ground us."

    Nodira raised her goblet in response, her voice filled with gratitude. "To the stars as our guides, and the peace that they bring."

    Their goblets met in a soft ring, the sound lost among the rustling of the breeze. They sipped their drinks in content silence, letting the night wrap around them like a comforting blanket as they relished the tranquility of the moment.

    The day after the feast, Wanderer stood in front of his exosuit armor, a brush in hand, ready to transform its appearance. He dipped the brush into a vibrant blue paint, carefully applying it to the surface of the armor. ¡°My art is more stunning than AI, because... im not even intelegent¡±

    The aesthetic of the Blood Khaganate army outfit had inspired him, and despite the paint''s lack of practicality, he believed that art preserved beauty in the wasteland.

    Once he finished painting, Wanderer set off for the mermaid settlement again. He had trade to conduct, gathering supplies necessary for establishing a new base in preparation for the impending mission against Series 9. recent victory against khaganate is bring good loot. but many of his equipment is turn into a fray. he need quick replacementAfter completing his business, wanderer feel all of his body screaming for pain. a too much rely on Real time psyche ability. and scaling the valley with exosuit in yesterday make him even cant make a stright posture while standing. its was the blacklash of of using exosuit. its give the wearer extra strengh and protection. but damaging the inner muscle if used in extensively.

    he then shallow some pills to ease the pain. its make him relaxed a bit. he then look at center of rayaskent. he made his way to Vila''s school, where he found her sitting in a gazebo behind the School.

    Vila looked up as he approached. ¡°Wanderer, this is a troubling situation. The constant threat of tribal conflict could be a real problem for both our communities.¡±

    Wanderer leaned back. ¡°Yeah¡­ do wars just happen? Do people naturally want to fight, or is it just powerful people pushing it?¡±

    Vila''s expression turned reflective. ¡°Wanderer, These questions have fascinated philosophers and thinkers for millennia. Some argue that war is inevitable, born from our primitive need for survival and resources. Others believe it''s a choice, driven by ambition, greed, and a desire for control.¡±

    ¡°I want your answer, not one from bygone books,¡± Wanderer replied,

    Vila nodded. ¡°Wanderer, I believe war isn''t inherent. We can be aggressive, sure, but that''s not all we are.¡± She looked at him. ¡°It''s complicated, but I think our choices matter. War isn''t inevitable; it''s a choice. What do you think? Is war in our DNA?¡±

    Wanderer sighed, ¡°I¡¯m a warlord. I¡¯ve killed many people. I¡¯ve razed many cities. I¡¯ve killed many babies. War is not natural. First, you need your soldiers to fight for a reason¡ªlike material gain, money, influence, land, or something illogical like pride, vengeance, hatred. You need to control all of those aspects to create a war.¡±

    Vila looked at him with understanding. ¡°Wanderer, you understand war. But even with all that, we can still try to understand each other and work together.¡±

    Wanderer considered her words. ¡°I guess the reason your city is at peace is by design as well. Many major factions in the wasteland need a place to trade without spilling blood. They agree to ''peace'' in some sort.¡±

    Vila nodded, ¡°You''re insightful. Indeed, Rayaskent was established as a neutral zone, a place where different factions could come together to trade and interact without the threat of violence.¡±

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow, ¡°Don¡¯t act so dumb. Do you bribe them?¡±

    ¡°I assure you, Rayaskent operates out of a sincere commitment to peace and community development. Our position as a neutral zone is built on trust, fairness, and mutual benefit.¡±

    She met Wanderer''s gaze, ¡°dishonesty and deceit are not strategies I embrace. I believe in building relationships on honesty and integrity.¡±

    Wanderer leaned back, crossing his arms ¡°So, do you think you¡¯re just lucky enough to exist because factions like Series 9 and SWAT see you as an oasis?¡±

    Vila considered his question thoughtfully before answering. ¡°Wanderer, luck plays a part in any success story, but in our case, Rayaskent stands as a testament to perseverance, cooperation, and mutual respect. Rayaskent more than just an oasis¡ªit is a safe haven where people can thrive without fear of violence or chaos.¡±

    Wanderer hummed thoughtfully,

    Vila raised an eyebrow, sensing his dismissive attitude. ¡°Wanderer, your response seems a bit dismissive. Is there something specifically you''re having doubts about? Your questions and thoughts are welcome¡ªopen dialogue is one of the cornerstones of Rayaskent''s society.¡±

    Wanderer changed the subject. ¡°How old are you, really?¡±

    Vila chuckled softly at the unexpected change of subject. ¡°Wanderer, my age is a mystery to many, but I suppose you''ve earned the truth, given our prior conversations. Let me tell you, I am much older than I appear. ¡° She smirked playfully.

    ¡°However, I must admit, my youthful appearance has its advantages. It allows me the chance to experience the world with a fresh perspective every few centuries.¡±

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°How do you manage to keep your motivation up? If I were you, I would already be praying to God to die.¡±

    Vila''s expression softened. ¡°my belief in the goodness of humanity still burns brightly within me. I see the capacity for change and kindness in the hearts of people, even amidst the chaos of the Wasteland. That hope gives me the strength to persevere and continue striving for a better future.¡± She looked at him thoughtfully. ¡°And you, Wanderer? What keeps you going?¡±

    Wanderer sighed, ¡°It¡¯s because God hasn¡¯t given me death yet. That¡¯s simple.¡±

 Chapter 29 Woman touch in desert

    Vila''s eyes widened slightly. "Tell me, Wanderer, how do you find comfort in your faith during tough times? How do you stay strong when the world gets so dark?"

    Wanderer looked the empty pond near gazebo. the duck is gone?, then he look at Vila ¡°It¡¯s true sometimes... no, not sometimes, but most of the time,

    I feel overwhelmed. I do what I must to do. I have a clear goal, which often seems good in my view, but the fate God gives me does not align with what I want to do.

    I often question Him. I know He is merciful. I know He is powerful. I know He is the wisest among all. I just always keep in mind that I¡¯m too dumb to be patient enough to see His true goal for me.¡±

    Vila placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. ¡°Remember, Wanderer, that questioning and wrestling with faith is a natural part of growth. It only strengthens your connection to God and enhances your understanding of the divine.¡±

    Wanderer looked at her curiously. ¡°So, are you... created from a lab, Vila?¡±

    Vila leaned closer. "Let''s just say my story is complicated. Some say science, some say divine intervention. The truth may be a bit of both.¡±

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. ¡°Do there many people like you? With an unnatural lifespan?¡±

    Vila eyes gazing into the distance. ¡°My creators spared no expense in my creation, ensuring that my existence remains a closely guarded secret.¡± She turned to face him, ¡°I''ve heard whispers in the shadows of the desert, rumors of others who have transcended the boundaries of normal human existence. But it''s hard to separate fact from fiction in this chaotic world we live in.¡±

    Wanderer smirked, ¡°Yes, and who knows? Perhaps you¡¯re fake too. Perhaps you have many sisters and daughters. Hehe. And if you indeed live a long time, how do you keep sane? Many people, especially in power, become degraded.¡±

    ¡°As for your concern about my sanity, it''s a valid one. I''ve seen the corrupting influence of power firsthand. But rest assured, I have my own ways to maintain my balance and sanity. I rely on my principles, the values I hold dear, to guide me.¡± Vila said.

    Wanderer humming. ¡°Hmmm, now I see.¡±

    Vila smiled, ¡°"It''s not easy. But how do you stay sane...  Wanderer, how have you managed to retain your perspective and sanity amid the trials you''ve faced?¡±

    Wanderer leaned back while sit on bench on gazebo, ¡°I¡¯m... not normal. I¡¯m crazy. Do you think I¡¯m a normal dude?¡±

    Vila chuckled softly while sit beside him ¡°Well, to be completely honest, I wouldn''t exactly classify you as normal. You''re a complex individual, full of surprises and unexpected twists.¡± She leaned back a bit, a playful smile on her lips. ¡°But I wouldn''t go so far as to call you crazy. Your experiences, beliefs, and even your unique sense of humor all make up the intriguing man you are today.¡±

    ¡°Good... do I¡¯m the best man you¡¯ve seen in your entire existence?¡± Wanderer asked

    Vila laughed softly, ¡°Wanderer, you''ve got a confident streak, that''s for sure! ¡° She met his gaze, a teasing glint in her eyes. ¡°So, you want to know if you''re the best man I''ve come across? Well, you certainly leave a lasting impression, Wanderer.¡±

    ¡°Good... I know I¡¯m good. Perhaps I¡¯m just at a crazy level that creates the illusion that I¡¯m sort of good,¡± he replied,

    Vila chuckled softly and put a hand on his shoulder ¡°Embrace your uniqueness, and use it as a strength to bring joy and kindness into the world.¡±

    ¡°Joy and kindness... but I only give people bullets to the head,¡± Wanderer said,

    Vila''s expression softened,. ¡°Wanderer. Even small acts of kindness can bring a flicker of hope in this desolate world.¡±

    Wanderer pondered her words for a moment. ¡°So... do you think if I spare one man, it makes my thousand killings redeemable?¡±

    ¡°Wanderer, redemption is a complex concept, and it''s not for me to judge. However, I will say this: redemption is a journey, not an instant action. It requires genuine remorse, self-reflection, and the commitment to change. redemption is not about balancing numbers. It''s about making amends and choosing a different path moving forward. It takes more than one act to redeem a life.¡±

    Wanderer chuckled lightly. ¡°Hehe... good.¡± He then stood up, ¡°So, is that what they call therapy?¡±

    Vila chuckled softly, standing up as well. ¡°Who knows, maybe I''m onto something here. Perhaps I should open a therapy practice with a side of Wasteland wisdom! ''Psychology with a Side of Chaos'' has a nice ring to it, doesn''t it?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but I guess most people are too dumb to understand what the word psychology means.¡±

    Vila laughed heartily. ¡°Wanderer, you''re absolutely right!, Perhaps we can simplify it. How about ''Mental Health Advice with a Dash of Madness?'' Or maybe ''Emotional Guidance with a Hint of Insanity?'' I''m sure people would be lining up for that kind of therapy in the Wasteland!¡±

    Wanderer shook his head, ¡°No... I prefer a simple name. A place to talk about the inner heart.¡±

    Vila nodded, ¡°Wanderer, I understand. Simplicity is key sometimes. How about we name it ''The Heart''s Haven''? It conveys a place of support, safety, and a chance to connect with one''s inner self. What do you think?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure...¡± he replied,

    Vila smiled warmly. ¡°Perhaps, Wanderer, one day this Haven can become a reality, a sanctuary of understanding and introspection in this wild world.¡±

    Wanderer paused, his brow furrowing as he recalled Vila''s last sermon. ¡°But... before I leave, I still remember your last sermon. Perhaps I know your audience mostly consists of outcasts and those who are pessimistic about God¡¯s forgiveness. You try to elevate them, but don¡¯t you think that allowing people to steal because God is merciful is kind of... very harmful to say?¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Vila raised an eyebrow, appreciating Wanderer''s thoughtful question. ¡°Wanderer, Yes, you''re right; my audience often consists of those who feel ostracized and struggle to believe in God''s forgiveness. But I don''t advocate for leniency with thievery just because God is merciful. What I focus on is understanding the root causes of these actions and working towards a more compassionate and understanding community.¡± She paused, reflecting for a moment before continuing. ¡°It''s a delicate balance, Wanderer.¡±

    Wanderer smirked,. ¡°Nom nom... yeah sure... remember, I¡¯m watching you.¡±

    Vila chuckled softly, ¡°I''ll keep your words in mind, and I''ll continue striving to guide my audience towards a more positive path, without compromising the principles of our beliefs.¡±

    later. after they depart. wanderer then sped up to the swat base on west for final preparation of invasion.

    ¡°Bird born in a cage thinks flying is an illness,¡± Wanderer muttered to himself as he approached the SWAT new base. The sun beat down mercilessly on the desert, casting long shadows across the sandy terrain. A line of slaves toiled tirelessly on a new building project, their bodies bent under the weight of labor. while being accompanied with robot drones, carried materials. They glanced at Wanderer with a mix of pity and resignation,

    Some of the slaves believed they were the lucky ones, convinced that their masters took care of them, fed them, and saved them from the dangers lurking in the wasteland. while wanderer and soldier might live free. but desert see them as cannon fodder.

    Aresia, the new leader of SWAT, was busy with her own projects. She had implemented major regulations within her forces, including those affecting Wanderer. This led him to the SWAT base to deal with the endless paperwork that accompanied her new orders.

    After completing the tedious tasks, Wanderer finally met Aresia at the Phoenix base.

    its was a place ex US embassy. in older days, the embassy is used as fortress and military base. and now Aresia repropose the place into new base.

    She stood observing the construction of a giant eagle statue rising majestically amid the desert sands.

    ¡°Well... what are you doing now? What is this? A monument? Or a silent challenge to nearby factions?¡± he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

    Aresia looked up from the building project, a sly smile playing on her lips. ¡°Ah, Wanderer. Always observant, aren¡¯t you? This, my friend, is a little taste of what¡¯s to come.¡± She gestured toward the towering golden eagle, ¡°As for the purpose of this building, it¡¯s a symbol. A symbol of our strength, resilience, and growth. And perhaps, a silent challenge to our neighbors. We¡¯ll leave that for them to interpret.¡±

    Wanderer rolled his eyes, a small frown forming on his lips. ¡°You know... even your father wasn¡¯t that narcissistic.¡±

    Aresia shrugged,  ¡°My father,, I have no interest in following in his footsteps. We live in a different world now, This is my domain now, and I will rule it as I see fit. If displaying my ambition and drive makes me narcissistic, then I''ll wear that label with pride.¡±

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. ¡°So, more liberal... more narcissistic. What next? You allow women in the army? Hah.¡±

    Aresia smirked.¡°Oh, Wanderer, your jokes are as amusing as ever. It''s true, I''ve changed the way things are run here. I''ve allowed women in the army, as you so delicately put it. Why not? They''re just as capable as men.¡± She leaned against the rail, arms crossed.

    Wanderer let out a dramatic groan. ¡°NYOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo!¡±

    Aresia rolled her eyes, exasperated by Wanderer''s reaction. ¡°Oh please, Wanderer, contain your excitement. I''ve seen more enthusiasm from a sloth on a Monday morning.¡±

    ¡°You fool... they need to maintain the breeding. I mean family. SWAT is in low population already,¡± he countered,

    Aresia raised an eyebrow,  ¡°Maintain breeding? What do you think this is, the Stone Age? Women aren''t just mindless birthing machines, Wanderer.¡±

    Wanderer sighed heavily. ¡°Well yes... but how do we fix the manpower issues? This tradition appears for a reason, you know. And that is survival, not some sort of... vibe.¡±

    Aresia huffed indignantly, growing irritated. ¡°Survival? Is that all you think about? There are more factors to consider when it comes to manpower. Talent, skills, intelligence. We can''t just rely on a ''breeding'' tradition that only values women for their reproductive potential.¡°

    ¡°Ummm... just tell me the one strategic long-term benefit of letting your women, who could potentially be mothers, fight and possibly be killed in battle,¡± Wanderer pressed.

    Aresia sighed heavily, ¡°Alright, I see what you''re getting at. Fine. Let''s say a strategic long-term aspect of allowing women to fight on the frontlines, and potentially be killed in battle, is the potential for a more adaptive and inclusive fighting force. ¡° She crossed her arms, ¡°And let''s not pretend that men aren''t just as likely to die in battle as women. War is the great equalizer, after all.¡±

    Wanderer humming, ¡°Hmmm... yes, sure.¡±

    Aresia rolled her eyes once again, ¡°I knew you would be difficult. But sometimes, progress requires taking risks, Wanderer. Perhaps you should learn a thing or two about change and adaptability.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not some sort of misogynist. I¡¯m just pointing out the reality of the world we¡¯re living in today, princess. Some of my soldiers are women too, but that is under... special circumstances, not mandatory,¡± he replied,

    Aresia let out a sharp, cynical laugh. ¡°Oh, so now you''re not a misogynist. What a surprise. You''re just ''pointing out reality.'' Right. Well, let me tell you something about reality, Wanderer. We''re living in a wasteland, not some fairytale world. We have to adjust to the conditions we''re given, not cling to outdated traditions because they make us comfortable.¡±

    Heavy sigh again " Alright... tell me how many men have criticized you so far?¡± Wanderer asked, shifting the topic.

    Aresia tilted her head, thinking for a moment. ¡°If you''re asking how many men have criticized me since I took command, well, let''s just say it''s a fairly long list.¡± She counted on her fingers as she listed the names. ¡°There''s the former commander. Several officers, a few senior soldiers, and even some of the newer recruits. But hey, I guess that''s the price of taking charge, right?¡±

    ¡°Then... which one encouraged your progressive decisions?¡±

    Aresia smiled slightly, . ¡°Well, to be honest, there have been a few who have actually supported my more progressive decisions. The Young Commander for one, surprisingly enough. And there have been quite a few soldiers, both male and female, who have expressed their agreement with my approach. They see the potential in embracing change rather than resisting it.¡±

    ¡°REALLY? That boy... well, he¡¯s just twelve years old. He only knows about killing people, not something complex like the long-term socio-dynamics of an entire faction,¡± Wanderer scoffed.

    Aresia scoffed,. ¡°hah, Wanderer, you really think the Young Commander only knows about killing people? You underestimate him. He may be young, but he''s much more perceptive and clever than you give him credit for. He understands the situation we''re in, and he appreciates the necessity of change.¡±

    . ¡°Hmmh... I see.¡±

    ¡°Are you finally seeing the light, Wanderer? Perhaps you should give the Young Commander a chance. He may surprise you.¡±

    ¡°No... I just see that I found a similarity between you and your father. You both are kind of stubborn,¡± he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

    Aresia huffed, . ¡°Stubborn? Me? I prefer the term ''determined.'' And I don''t appreciate being compared to my father. I am my own person, with my own vision and approach.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Wanderer said, crossing his arms.

    Aresia crossed her arms as well, ¡°But I suppose you''re the expert on stubbornness, Wanderer. You''ve had centuries to perfect it, after all.¡±

    Wanderer chuckled. ¡°Hehe... thanks.¡±

    Aresia smirked, ¡°Consider it a compliment. Though I doubt you need any more ego stroking.¡±

    ¡°But I like it... mhm,¡± Wanderer said, leaning on the rails while observing the blue tall building beside the golden eagle. its was still in progress. ¡°So... what is that? A world trade center?¡±

    Aresia shook her head,. ¡°World Trade Center? Hardly. It''s a new headquarters for our forces. An inner sanctum. We''re building it to accommodate our growing numbers and ensure better coordination between different departments.¡±

    Wanderer nodded, ¡°Yes, but tell me, girl... is a peaceful multipolar world possible without war?¡±

    Aresia pondered the question for a moment, her brow furrowing in thought. ¡°Well, if we''re being brutally honest, the idea of a perfect, peaceful world without any conflict seems like a pipe dream, doesn''t it? I mean, look around us. The wasteland isn''t exactly a beacon of peace and harmony.¡±

    Wanderer leaned in slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. ¡°Yes, how about tomorrow? Do you see the light?¡±

    Aresia pursed her lips,. ¡°Tomorrow? Well, considering our track record, I''d say the chances of a peaceful world tomorrow are about as likely as me being crowned Miss Wasteland.¡±

    Wanderer chuckled softly. ¡°Hmhm... you¡¯re starting to show your cards here, dear.¡±

    Aresia quirked an eyebrow,. ¡°Showing my card? And what do you mean by that? Are you implying I have some kind of secret agenda?¡±

    ¡°Kind of. I mean, your father was a healthy, chubby guy, and suddenly he dies. Just on the same day, you almost make SWAT declare war with the Caliphate right after taking charge,¡± Wanderer replied nonchalantly

    Aresia stiffened, her eyes narrowing at his accusation. ¡°Hold on. You''re implying that I had something to do with my father''s sudden death? That''s a bold claim, even for you, Wanderer.¡±

    Wanderer humming, ¡°Hmhm. What¡¯s your view about the creepy assistant?¡±

    Aresia considered the assistant for a moment, her expression unreadable. ¡°The creepy assistant, eh? I suppose he''s a bit odd, yes. But he serves his purpose, and he''s shown loyalty to me. And that''s all I require in an assistant.¡±

    Wanderer wiggled his eyebrows, a smirk on his face. ¡°I see.¡±

    Aresia rolled her eyes, realizing his insinuation. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t start. I know what you¡¯re thinking. And you¡¯re way off base. Our relationship is strictly professional.¡±

    ¡°Hehe. Yes, sure... never mind. I will be leaving you,¡± Wanderer said, turning to go.

    Aresia waved a dismissive hand. ¡°Fine, go ahead. I have work to do anyway. Though, don¡¯t be surprised if you see some unexpected changes happening around here, Wanderer.¡±

    ¡°Goodbye... my peace upon you,¡± Wanderer replied,

    Aresia raised an eyebrow at his farewell. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Keep your peace and your skepticism. Until next time, Wanderer.¡±

 Chapter 30 Cube World

    Wanderer strode purposefully toward the office, determined to finish his paperwork quickly. The quiet hum of the air conditioning filled the eerily still room, filled by your average patriotic poster, but a sudden loud banging caused his ears to perk up, momentarily distracting him from the stack of papers before him. His body tensed,

    Carefully, he walked out of his cubicle, his footsteps soft and cautious. The sound seemed to stop entirely, leaving only the whirring of the air conditioning. There was no one in sight.

    "You shouldn''t be out of your cubicle this late," a deep, authoritative voice called out from behind him.

    Wanderer turned, surprised. "What?"

    The tall figure of Zane stepped into view, arms crossed in a disapproving manner. He looked down at Wanderer with a stern glance. "You know damn well that employees shouldn''t be working past 10:00 PM,"

    Wanderer smirked. "You know I''m not an employee here, per se. What happened to you? High again from Red Cliff?" he asked, referring to a drug other than Blue Mamba.

    Zane scowled, irritation flashing across his face. He didn¡¯t appreciate the snarky reply, but he had to admit Wanderer was right. He had a penchant for self-medicating when the stress piled up.

    "Don''t play smart with me," he warned. "And don''t you dare mention the Red Cliff around anyone. It''s not your business what I do with my own damn body."

    "Sure... you kinda messed up in recent days," Wanderer replied,

    "You don''t know a thing," he grumbled, his expression darkening. "I''ve been dealing with a lot of pressure lately, and those bloody idiots are making things even more complicated." He stepped closer, then pinning Wanderer against the cubicle wall, the stack of unfinished paperwork looming behind him.

    Wanderer remained unfazed. "I''m not gay, and you know it. Better back off or I¡¯ll flatten your nose."

    Zane let out a sharp scoff, narrowing his eyes as he leaned in closer. "And who says I was flirting, huh?" he sneered. "I was just making a point, you idiot." He leaned in even closer, their faces inches apart. "You''re good at what you do, but you''re still under my wing for now."

    Wanderer laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet office. He punched Zane''s gut lightly, causing him to kneel down in pain. "Wake up, man. Stop doing harm to your own body. Stop relying on that drug. You are a fucking commander, you know."

    Zane clutched his stomach,. "Bloody hell... You don''t hold back, do you?" He let out a weak chuckle, slowly getting up and rubbing his stomach. "I appreciate the concern, but the Red Cliff keeps me going. Without it, I can''t handle the stress and pressure from work."

    Wanderer nodded, sighing. "Yeah," he said, rubbing his neck. "The situation is a mess. I can feel that too."

    Zane leaned back against the cubicle wall, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "You''re damn right. Everything''s a mess." He paused, his gaze fixed on the stack of papers behind Wanderer. "I''ve been buried in paperwork for days now, trying to keep this sinking ship afloat."

    Wanderer smirked. "Hmh... administration? Did Aresia put you on a desk job, Paper officer?"

    Zane groaned in frustration, irritation clear on his face. "Yeah, it''s all damn paperwork. And that''s not all; she''s been on my ass to sign this and that. She''s treating me like her damned secretary."

    "Good... I mean, bad, ahha," Wanderer replied,

    Zane rolled his eyes at the mocking response. "Very funny. You think this is funny, huh? Having to deal with that woman''s power-hungry bullshit? She''s making my life a living hell."

    Wanderer leaned in, a smirk on his face behind his mask. "And what are you going to do? A coup?"

    Zane shot him a glare, "Don''t mess with me, smartass. I''m not planning a coup. I''m just doing my job, dealing with her bullshit. But it''s not easy, I tell you. I have to watch my back around that woman."

    "Alright, buddy... you can open up with me. I''m not that rigid, brainwashed recruit," Wanderer said,

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Zane''s expression softened a bit, his tense shoulders relaxing. "Fine," he said, letting out a deep sigh. "But you better keep your damn mouth shut about this. This doesn''t leave this room, understand?"

    "Sure... a secret," Wanderer nodding.

    "Damn right it''s a secret," Zane muttered. "Can''t have anyone knowing I''ve got weak moments." He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "Aresia''s been driving me insane. She''s pushing for even more power, and I can''t stand it. I''ve been trying to keep her in check, but it''s like trying to stop a tsunami with a bucket."

    "Yes."

    Zane clenched his fists. "She''s making decisions that could get us all killed! And she doesn''t listen to anyone but herself. It''s like she''s on a power trip, trying to prove she''s the boss. I swear, if she keeps this up, it''s going to lead to disaster."

    "Yes, a boss who keeps telling everyone she¡¯s the boss is indeed a questionable boss. It shows weakness," Wanderer replied.

    Zane scowled. "Exactly! A real leader doesn''t have to go around announcing it. she''s too busy trying to control everything that she''s losing sight of what''s important." He paused. "I''ve been questioning her actions, but she''s not the type to take criticism. I fear that things are heading in a dangerous direction."

    Wanderer leaned back, "Mhm... at least she still not using anti-aryan card yet while being critize. heh. what¡¯s your view about her progressive views?"

    . "Her progressive views? Hah, it''s all a show," Zane  sneered. "She''s using it to gain favor among the younger generation, as if she cares about their needs.The whole ''progressive'' act is just a facade. Underneath it all, she''s as cold and ruthless as the rest of them."

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow,¡°What is her endgame?¡± he asked,¡°At least, what¡¯s your guess?¡±

    ¡°Her endgame? Damn if I know for sure,¡± he admitted, his voice dropping to a low growl. ¡°But if I had to guess, it¡¯s power and control, all the way. She¡¯ll stop at nothing to climb the ladder and have absolute authority.¡± Zane paused, his expression darkening. ¡°She wants to be the puppet master, pulling the strings from behind the scenes. And I can¡¯t let that happen. I won¡¯t let her turn this place into a dictatorship.¡±

    Wanderer nodded, ¡°This place is indeed a dictatorship of sorts. But her father, despite being ruthless, was still afraid of us as his soldiers. He allowed for some democratic decision-making, which gave us a bit of breathing room despite his actions. Aresia, on the other hand, might not understand this kind of dynamic in SWAT.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re damn right about that. Her father may have been ruthless, but he still valued our opinions and input. He understood that we were the ones on the front lines, making the tough decisions. But Aresia... she¡¯s different. She thinks she knows best, and she¡¯s not afraid to stomp on anyone who disagrees with her.¡±

    Zane paused, then look at swat symbol in poster. a dark fist,

    ¡°It¡¯s like she¡¯s trying to consolidate power and take control, leaving no room for debate or dissent. It¡¯s dangerous, and it could end badly for all of us.¡±

    Wanderer leaned back, ¡°Hmmh... what should we do?¡±

    Zane ran a hand through his brown hair, ¡°I wish I had an easy answer for that,¡± he murmured. ¡°We need to find a way to rein her in without pushing her over the edge. The last thing we want is a power struggle that will tear SWAT apart.¡± He sighed, leaning back against the wall. ¡°For now, we need to bide our time, gather information, and wait for an opportunity to present itself. We have to be smart about this.¡±

    Wanderer chuckled lightly, ¡°Well, yes. So far, the thing that keeps us together is... ironically, our mortal enemy. Ahah, oho, hoohoho.¡±

    Zane let out a dry chuckle. ¡°Yeah, isn¡¯t that a cruel twist of fate? We¡¯ve got a mutual enemy that forces us to stick together, even though we¡¯re supposed to be enemies ourselves.¡± He shook his head, ¡°Just goes to show you how complicated this world has become. Enemies become allies, and allies become enemies.¡±

    Wanderer leaned in,. ¡°Do you consider me a friend, buddy?¡±

    Zane looked at him for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re alright, I guess,¡± he finally said, a hint of a smile on his lips. ¡°You¡¯ve proved yourself capable, and I appreciate the loyalty you¡¯ve shown.¡± He paused, ¡°But just remember, I still need to be cautious around you. In this world, trust gets you killed.¡±

    Wanderer frowned. ¡°Hmmh... come on, don¡¯t say that.¡±

    Zane¡¯s expression softened a bit. ¡°Listen, I¡¯m just being pragmatic,¡± he explained. ¡°In this world, it¡¯s hard to trust anyone. People have their own agendas and aren¡¯t afraid to betray others to get what they want. I¡¯ve seen it happen too many times before.¡± He paused, his voice lowering. ¡°I can¡¯t afford to blindly trust anyone, no matter how good their intentions may seem. I have to protect my own, my people. I hope you can understand that.¡±

    ¡°Alright... how about that boy? The young commander... can I befriend him instead? Hmmh?¡± Wanderer asked,

    Zane¡¯s expression soured ¡°Ugh, him?¡± he muttered, rolling his eyes. ¡°He¡¯s just a spoiled brat, the son of Aresia. He may have some ability, but he¡¯s arrogant and naive.¡± He paused, his gaze turning thoughtful. ¡°If you insist on befriending him, go ahead. Just remember that he might use you to further his own ambitions. Don¡¯t let him fool you.¡±

    Wanderer rubbed his forehead, ¡°Son? Son biologically or metaphorically?¡±

    Zane shrugged,. ¡°Biologically, I guess. He¡¯s not just some random recruit; he¡¯s got Aresia¡¯s blood running through his veins. He¡¯s the product of her ambitions and power-hungry nature.¡± He let out a dry chuckle. ¡°But sometimes I swear, he¡¯s more like her puppet than her son. He does whatever she tells him to do without question.¡±

    ¡°Really? Well, if you think about it, it actually makes sense. How can a twelve-year-old boy rule a massive force?¡± Wanderer said, a laugh escaping his lips.

    Zane nodded in agreement. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ve got a point there. It¡¯s baffling how a child can command an army like that. while normal recruit on his age still a private!.  Maybe it¡¯s just a power play by Aresia, using her son to extend her control.¡± He paused. ¡°Just be careful around him. You never know what tricks he¡¯s up to.¡±

    ¡°Alright... but I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m the merc, while you¡¯re stuck in all of this,¡± Wanderer smirked and winked.

    Zane rolled his eyes at the comment, slightly amused. ¡°Hah, yeah right. You¡¯re a merc; you¡¯re supposed to be the free one. And here I am, stuck in this damn office.¡± He let out a dry chuckle. ¡°It¡¯s a crazy world we live in. Mercenaries, commanders, mutants... Seems like we¡¯re all just figuring it out as we go.¡±

    Wanderer raised an eyebrow. ¡°Good... hmmh... wanna drink?¡±

    Zane¡¯s expression lit up slightly ¡°Now you¡¯re talkin¡¯,¡± he said, a hint of a smile on his lips. ¡°I could use a drink. Just one, though. I still have to be sober enough to lead tomorrow.¡±

    Wanderer chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°No... I¡¯m talking about my new habit... tea.¡±

    Zane raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. ¡°Tea? Since when do you drink tea?¡± he asked,

    ¡°Umm... since... months ago, I guess,¡± Wanderer replied,

    ¡°Months ago, huh?¡± Zane repeated, taking a seat nearby. ¡°And what kind of tea do you drink? Does it have some special meaning or something?¡±

    Wanderer leaned back, ¡°No, it¡¯s just that it brings my body more relaxation and clears my mind. It¡¯s the opposite of beer.¡±

    Zane nodded ¡°I have to admit, I¡¯m a bit skeptical about this whole tea thing. But if it works for you, I suppose I can¡¯t judge.¡±

    Wanderer grinned. ¡°Good. So will you keep being mad locked in here, or follow me to get some tea?¡±

    Zane let out a sigh, ¡°Okay, fine. I¡¯ll take a break from being mad and follow you for this tea. But just this once, mind you.¡± He stretching his limbs with a weary groan.

    ¡°That¡¯s my good boy,¡± Wanderer smiled.

    Zane rolled his eyes but couldn¡¯t help but smile back slightly. ¡°Careful there, I might get used to being called that,¡± he replied sarcastically. ¡°Lead the way, tea connoisseur.¡±

    ¡°Oh... that¡¯s scary,¡± Wanderer chuckled, turning back to walk to the door.

    Zane followed behind him, amusement dancing in his eyes. ¡°Yeah, you just wait. Next thing you know, I¡¯ll start suggesting we have tea parties instead of meetings,¡± he joked, his voice dripping with mock enthusiasm.