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Chapter 6 - MULTIVERSE PD PART 6

Episode 6 — The Setup

The Multiverse Police cafeteria was a sterile box of chrome tables and vending machines that spat out synthetic sludge they called food. Officers sat in groups, laughing, bitching, pretending they weren't part of the most corrupt law enforcement in the galaxy.

Kairo Shin sat alone in the corner, cigarette dangling, boots on the table. His uniform was wrinkled, still stained with Commissioner Veyra's blood. Nobody said a word to him. Nobody dared. They whispered, but never loud enough.

"Psycho."

"Butcher."

"Walking execution order."

Kairo smirked as he heard it all. "Cute nicknames," he muttered, lighting another smoke.

That's when the intercom buzzed.

"Shin. Commander's office. Now."

The Commander's Warning

The Commander's office reeked of whiskey and cigar smoke. He didn't look happy this time.

"Shin," he said, pouring himself a drink, "you're making too many waves. Killing gangsters? Fine. Killing dirty cops? Fine. But killing a commissioner? That shit doesn't go away. The brass is breathing down my neck. They want you gone."

Kairo sat, calm, flicking ash on the carpet. "Then let 'em try."

The Commander leaned forward. "They're not going to try. They're going to set you up. You'll get sent on a mission tonight. They'll make it look clean. Routine. Then the trigger gets pulled."

Kairo smirked. "Cute. They think I don't see that coming?"

The Commander's cybernetic eyes glowed. "Don't underestimate them, Shin. They'll send hunters. Officers. Maybe even your own squad."

Kairo blew smoke. "Doesn't matter. Trap or not, I'll kill 'em all."

The Trap

By nightfall, Kairo was "assigned" to a raid in the lower industrial sectors. The official report said weapons smugglers were moving plasma cannons through an abandoned factory. Simple op. Too simple.

Jensen—the rookie from before—met him at the landing pad, pale and twitchy. "K-Kairo… I didn't know they'd assign us together…"

Kairo patted his cheek, grinning cold. "Relax. If you're not planning on stabbing me, you'll live."

The squad moved into the factory—ten officers, guns ready. The air reeked of oil and rust. Shadows stretched long across the floor. Too quiet. Too staged.

Kairo lit a cigarette, calm. "Well, this looks like a shitty ambush."

And then the lights cut.

The Betrayal

Gunfire exploded from the rafters. Officers turned on Kairo, shouting his name like a curse. Plasma bolts ripped through the air. The squad he'd marched in with all raised their guns at once—at him.

Jensen's hands shook, gun aimed right at Kairo's chest.

"Orders, Shin… I-I'm sorry… they said if I don't shoot you, they'll kill me—"

Kairo blew smoke in his face. "Wrong answer, kid."

Tentacles exploded from his arms.

The first officer's head came clean off, blood spraying across the rusted walls. Another screamed before being wrapped and yanked in half, intestines slapping the floor. Jensen fired wildly, bullets bouncing off steel tentacles, screaming like a child.

Kairo smirked, calm, as the factory filled with screams.

"Come on, boys. You're making this too easy."

The Comedy of Carnage

One officer hid behind a crate, radioing for backup. "He's a monster—he's ripping everyone—"

A tentacle smashed through the crate and ripped his jaw off mid-sentence.

Another officer slipped on blood, falling face-first into his own plasma fire. His head melted into goo.

Kairo laughed, dragging Jensen by the throat with one tentacle while stabbing another officer through the spine.

"You boys wanted to throw me a surprise party?" Kairo sneered. "Should've brought cake."

Jensen sobbed, dropping his gun. "P-please—I didn't want this—I swear—"

Kairo tilted his head, calm. "Neither did my parents. But here we are."

The tentacle snapped his neck with a wet crack.

[Assassinations Confirmed.]

[Level Up: 9.]

[Intelligence Increased.]

His mind sharpened again, almost painfully. He saw everything—the conspiracy above him, the captains who signed the orders, the higher brass moving him like a chess piece. His thoughts sliced like knives, cold and precise.

The Hunters Arrive

The ground shook as the second wave stormed in. This time, not rookies. Not dirty cops. Hunters.

Elite armored enforcers of the Multiverse Police, each one fitted with exo-suits, plasma blades, and jet boosters. They were meant for galactic wars, not a single man.

"Target is Shin," their leader barked. "Protocol Delta. Kill on sight."

Kairo stretched his arms, tentacles writhing. "Finally. A warm-up."

The hunters charged. Plasma blades lit up the factory, cutting through steel. Kairo moved faster than sight, dodging blades with immortal agility, tentacles whipping into armor. One hunter's helmet caved, blood spraying. Another tried to stab, only to be wrapped and crushed into paste.

The leader sliced one tentacle clean off. Kairo looked down, almost amused, as the liquid steel grew back instantly.

"Cute trick," Kairo muttered before stabbing the leader through the chest, ripping his heart out.

The Aftermath

The factory floor was painted in gore. Officers gutted. Hunters shredded. Blood dripped from the rafters like rain.

Kairo stood in the middle of it all, calm, cigarette between his lips. He exhaled smoke, looking at the carnage.

"Trap failed," he muttered. "Guess I win."

[Mission Complete.]

[Level Up: 10.]

[Intelligence Increased.]

His thoughts expanded again. Sharper. Colder. He saw the entire chain of command—the names, the orders, the motives. He knew who signed the kill order.

And now they were on his list.

Back at HQ

When Kairo walked back into HQ the next morning, drenched in dried blood, silence fell. Dozens of officers stopped mid-step, watching him with pale faces.

He smirked, blowing smoke. "Morning, assholes."

No one spoke. No one moved. They just stared at the man who had walked into a trap and walked out leaving hunters in pieces.

The Commander was waiting in his office, glass of whiskey in hand.

"They're going to brand you rogue," he warned.

Kairo sat, calm, lighting another cigarette. "Good. Rogue sounds fun."

The Commander smirked darkly. "You're a fucking nightmare, Shin."

Kairo grinned. "And nightmares don't die."

The Anti-Hero's Path

That night, Kairo stood on the roof of HQ, looking down at Nexus City. His body felt sharper, his brain colder. The infection inside him pulsed, stronger with every level.

He wasn't just a cop anymore. He wasn't even an anti-hero.

He was a storm.

And the Multiverse Police had just declared war on their own weapon.

[Current Level: 10 | Intelligence Status: Superhuman strategist. Predicts traps, betrayals, and combat outcomes instantly. Colder, funnier, untouchable.]

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