"What? The individual in the photograph wasn't found?" Hideaki leaped from his chair. After brief contemplation, he swiftly issued orders, "Then disregard him. Bring Song Zhenxian and her associates back. Remember to adhere to the original planned route. Leave only a small contingent to surround the entire apartment complex. Until the specialized search team arrives, no one enters or exits. Also, one crucial point." Hideaki's expression turned grave. "During the troop return, exercise extreme caution. Prepare for potential assault."
"May I inquire as to the assumed threat level of the attack?" the voice on the other end asked.
"Highest level!" Without any hesitation, Hideaki concluded the call.
Exhaustedly leaning back in the chair, worrying about the impending events.
"Does Your Excellency believe 13 will assault the troops?" Miyamoto inquired incredulously.
"Barring unforeseen circumstances, it is certain," Hideaki sighed.
"But Your Excellency, that constitutes over three thousand elite troops! Equipped with weaponry considered, if not the world's best, then certainly world-class. Furthermore, protected by American tanks and armed helicopters. Forget one person; even ten thousand wouldn't dare challenge them!" Miyamoto stated common sense.
"Likely, everyone shares your perspective." Hideaki gazed emptily at the ceiling. "He is an individual devoid of common sense. Otherwise, the current Taiwan wouldn't boast an additional artificial lake."
With that, he stood up, heading towards the door.
"Where is Your Excellency going?" Miyamoto asked, perplexed.
"Depart Hancheng with me now." Hideaki didn't pause; Miyamoto followed habitually. "Although my assessment indicates he won't utilize SEED, we must account for the improbable. For safety's sake, evacuate!"
Hideaki's words stunned Miyamoto. Recalling the single-soldier nuclear event in Taiwan caused his legs to tremble involuntarily.
"Our stationed forces in Hancheng number 150,000; essentially all high-tech weaponry is concentrated here. If SEED detonates here, militarily, we'll regress at least two years. And 'Snake'..." Miyamoto dared not contemplate further.
"If we cannot obtain 'Snake,' allowing him to destroy it might not be undesirable. If 13 also perishes as a result, then the two-year regression is worthwhile..." Hideaki clenched his fists.
At this moment, outside the apartment, Zhenxian, Uncle, Madman, and Baozhu were seated within a sealed armored vehicle. Isolated from the driver's compartment, it more closely resembled an expensive prison transport.
Orders from superiors forbade conversation with them. Two soldiers, acting as guards, entered along with them, gripping loaded assault rifles, uttering not a single word, like two statues.
The armored vehicle door locked from the outside; the convoy set in motion, heading towards the R-Army headquarters.
Zhenxian's armored vehicle, enveloped by four American tanks, proceeded onto the highway. The formation consisted of armored units centrally positioned, infantry flanking both sides of the convoy, maintaining vigilance.
Last night marked the first issuance of a curfew order since the R-Army's arrival in Korea. Everyone seemed quite compliant; the broad streets were utterly deserted, not a single figure visible. Only the gentle morning breeze caressed bodies, adding a touch of coolness. Yet, for soldiers clad in two layers of ceramic body armor, it evoked no sensation.
Everyone hunched over, advancing slowly, eyes darting back and forth, attentive to any suspicious circumstances...
No one doubted Hideaki's orders. Within the hearts of the lower-ranking R-Army soldiers today, he had already become a legendary myth. Every decision, every plan seemed the product of exhaustive calculation.
"Say, how do you think Hideaki will treat us?" The oppressive silence was broken by Madman. He simply disliked the feeling of suppression. Even if death loomed in the next moment, a smile should grace his face in this one. His perpetually smiling features reinforced this impression.
"Don't know. I'm not a worm in his belly," Uncle replied somewhat impatiently.
"Likely imprisonment first, but ultimately, execution seems probable," Zhenxian stated, smiling towards everyone, as if discussing a mundane matter.
"Isn't that kid exaggerating a bit? Such overwhelming military force merely to escort us back to headquarters?!" Uncle knocked on the steel plate behind him sarcastically.
"Presumably to guard against potential hijack attempts..." Madman analyzed.
"With such a formation? Who would dare?" Uncle remained perplexed.
"He will," Baozhu, hitherto silent, stated firmly.
Merely the word "he" stirred Zhenxian's heart. "Will he come?" Zhenxian questioned incessantly, her heart growing warmer. She recalled childhood fairy tales: a beautiful princess abducted by evil forces; a handsome prince wielding a treasured sword, slaying all villains, ultimately living happily ever after with the princess...
Yet, Zhenxian desired not this outcome. Because reality wasn't a story; good doesn't always prevail, and the protagonist isn't an immortal monster...
At this moment, Miyamoto and Hideaki's helicopter had already flown beyond Hancheng. Aboard the aircraft, thirty screens displayed the advancing troop movements—monitors directly linked to the armed helicopters accompanying the convoy. Judging by the distance, at the current troop advancement speed, safety could be reached within merely two hours. Once delivered to headquarters, even if 13 possessed celestial abilities, approaching even a single step would be impossible.
These two hours constituted Hideaki and 13's "war"!
"Why have I come here?" Leaning against the wall, 13 questioned himself. The ground vibrations outside intensified.
"Is it merely reluctance to let 'family' perish?" This wasn't the answer 13 sought.
"Now I increasingly believe in fate..." 13 mused silently with a smile. "It allowed me to recover what I had lost. It also intends to once again seize what belongs to me."
Pulling back the bolt, chambering a round. Rising from the ground. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating 13's black armor; blue eyes contracted and expanded rhythmically, adjusting.
Clenching both fists. Preparing for the conclusion...
"Nobody can take her! She belongs only to me!" 13 coldly activated the switch.
The slowly advancing convoy halted unexpectedly. Because the surrounding area emitted "Beep... Beep..." sounds, growing louder, more numerous.
Everyone's gaze fixed upon the trash bins lining the street...
Observing the transmitted images, Hideaki sensed something amiss.
At the street intersection, over ten soldiers cautiously surrounded a trash bin. Only one was dispatched forward to investigate.
With trembling steps, a soldier advanced. The instant he lowered his head to inspect, an explosion occurred within the trash bin. Yet, the inspecting soldier did not perish; it was merely a smoke grenade detonating. Dense white smoke rapidly billowed outwards, enveloping the entire convoy in this man-made fog.
"He's here!" Hideaki clenched his fists, lifting the headset, "All units, attention! Maintain order, do not move readily, remain in position!"
"Nakamura, how are you?" Team members called out to the soldier who had just investigated.
"I'm alright!" Nakamura replied, elated as if having escaped death's clutches.
Intending to speak further, he suddenly found himself voiceless; copious amounts of blood surged outwards from his throat. Turning his head sideways, he saw a figure clad in black armor observing him. The figure merely placed a single finger to its lips, gesturing for silence.
Helplessly collapsing, Nakamura's military career concluded...
Walking with measured steps towards the crowd.
"Nakamura! Don't move! Superior orders forbid movement!" Seeing the gradually approaching figure, Nakamura's squad leader shouted.
Yet, the figure continued its approach. An ominous premonition welled up from the depths of his heart...
Four blue "pupils" illuminated...
"What is that?!" The squad leader trembled, raising his weapon to aim. Other team members reacted uniformly—a human instinct...
The figure grew increasingly distinct—black armor. Likely, no soldier in the world currently failed to recognize it. After all, Z-nation's Special Operations parade had caused a global sensation at the time...
"O-open... fire!" The squad leader even omitted the "Don't move" command. His judgment was correct; had he waited to finish shouting, likely everyone would already be lying dead. Yet, even foresight couldn't save them.
Spraying bullets struck the guardrails and streetlights behind, generating intense sparks. Spent casings danced chaotically upon the ground. Yet, 13's figure remained unseen.
"Behind!" 13 offered a reminder. Everyone turned simultaneously. The four closest to 13, necks just turned back, met 13's black combat knife. Blood splattered upon 13's chest plate.
Intense gunfire erupted from the squad's position, yet lasted merely five seconds. The fifteen-man squad fell completely "silent."
"Have the helicopters descend! Disperse the smoke!" Hideaki made the correct decision. Thirty roaring aircraft instantly blew away the vision-obstructing dense fog.
A single black figure appeared within everyone's line of sight.
"Kill him!" Hideaki roared...