A few moments earlier, inside the Intelligence Section.
The manager was walking briskly down the corridor leading to the guild's intelligence core, an assistant hurrying at her side.
— Have you located the young lady's position? — she asked, her voice stretched tight like a wire.
— No… not yet, — the assistant replied, out of breath. — Her tracking signal has been scrambled. It's active, but undetectable.
— How is that even possible, even for you? — she snapped without slowing down. Her tone wasn't a question. It was an accusation.
The assistant fell silent, unable to answer.
— Do we at least have footage? Witnesses?
— Yes. We recovered a security recording from the district.
They entered a room plunged into semi-darkness, lit only by the bluish glow of a dozen screens. On the central monitor, a video began to play.
The sequence was short and brutal. Seraphina's two bodyguards were already on the ground in the foreground, motionless. Seraphina herself, clearly unconscious, was being supported by three hooded individuals.
— Analysis of the attackers, — an analyst announced. — Estimated levels: 19, 20, and 21.
The manager froze.
— How did they get her? With a sedative? — she murmured in disbelief. — And two Tier 1 bodyguards taken out by people who haven't even reached that level?
She pressed her fingers hard against her temple.
— No. Something's wrong. — Her voice dropped, colder, more dangerous. — Something is seriously wrong. Increase the priority level. Use every filter, every recognition algorithm. I want a lead within ten minutes.
— Yes, chief!
How is this possible? The question looped endlessly in her mind. Could it be that the young lady had…?
---
Meanwhile, at the Baraka gang's hideout.
Remedy kept the motocross balanced with one foot on the ground. In the dusty silence of the courtyard, the sinister click-clack of rifles being cocked echoed around him.
— You can't run anymore, kid, — spat one of the kidnappers, a scarred man (Level 19).
— You shouldn't have stuck your nose where it didn't belong, — added his accomplice (Level 20), a vicious grin on his lips. — You've got only yourself to blame.
Remedy deliberately set down the kickstand and stepped off the bike. Then he walked forward. Slowly. Arms slightly spread, palms open — a gesture both vulnerable and provocative.
— Who said I wanted to run? — His voice was strangely calm. — You're the ones who'll want to. But you won't get the chance.
The Level 19 snickered and pulled the trigger. The sound ripped through the air.
An assault rifle bullet travels at over 900 meters per second. No human reflex — not even a superhuman one — can dodge it at this distance.
They expected Remedy to collapse.
Instead, they saw him… smile. The bullet stopped a few centimeters from his sternum, as if caught in invisible jelly. It slowly spun in place, suspended in midair.
[DING! 100 RP CONSUMED. CONCEPT — FEATHER'S_WEIGHT — INJECTED INTO THE BULLET.] [DING! EARTH GRAVITY SUCCESSFULLY LINKED TO THE CONCEPT.]
100 RP per bullet? The thought crossed Remedy's mind with cold clarity. This is going to be expensive.
— Wh… What?! — stammered the Level 19, his arrogance evaporating. — You can stop bullets?
Then, realizing the impossible, a crazed look of defiance twisted his face.
— Then let's see how many you can stop!
CRACK-BRRRRT!
A rain of lead poured down on Remedy. The bursts shredded the air around him.
DING! DING! DING! DING!… -100 RP! -100 RP! -100 RP!…
Each projectile — from the front, the sides, even ricochets — lost all inertia and gravity within a meter of him, becoming nothing more than metal butterflies floating in a deadly, motionless cloud.
The barrage finally stopped, magazines empty. The floating mass of bullets formed a grotesque, silent barrier around Remedy.
[DING! 30,000 RP CONSUMED. 300 BULLETS INJECTED.]
Remedy's gaze hardened. 30,000 RP. Gone in less than ten seconds. A cold anger — more dangerous than any rage — surged through him.
He looked up at the two men, still frozen in shock at the incomprehensible sight.
[DING! EARTH GRAVITY UNLINKED FROM ALL INJECTED CONCEPTS.]
The metal cloud stopped floating.
PLINK. PLINK. PLINK-PLINK-PLINK.
Three hundred bullets crashed heavily onto the gravel in a macabre hail.
Remedy's face had become a mask of promise.
— You… you're dead.
He lunged forward.
The kidnappers, panicking, drew other weapons and fired desperate bursts.
But Remedy was no longer running. He was dancing with death. A slide beneath a barrage, an explosive lateral leap avoiding three bullets at once, a change of direction so abrupt it seemed to defy physics. To his enemies' eyes, he was nothing but a blur — a stuttering ghost teleporting from one point to another. Any bullet that found his trajectory was instantly neutralized, adding to the already heavy toll on his RP.
He appeared beside the Level 19. A devastating uppercut snapped the man's head upward. Before the Level 20 could react, a double kick smashed into their faces.
The impacts echoed, yet the men smiled — dazed, but still standing. Their difference in level and endurance was real.
Before they could recover, the shadow of a gigantic hammer crashed down on them, slamming them into the ground with a force that shook the earth.
BOOM!
They were still alive.
A grenade immediately rolled toward him. Remedy leapt backward, raising his hammer like a shield. The explosion sent him tumbling across the ground, the shockwave hammering his eardrums.
He got back up, shaken by the brutality. They sacrificed their own men without hesitation.
Smoke grenades hissed, spewing thick white clouds. Under that cover, additional silhouettes arrived, their weapons crackling.
Remedy didn't stay. He sprinted toward the main building — where he had seen Seraphina being taken. He zigzagged, leapt over explosions, used his hammer to deflect another grenade thrown too close.
[DING! 1,000 RP CONSUMED.]
Damn it. I'm losing too much RP. I need to be fast.
He slipped through a smashed door and entered the building.
Inside, an oppressive silence reigned. The corridor was empty, sinister, lit by flickering neon lights. He moved with a predator's caution, every sense on high alert, clearing corners with lethal speed.
The silence was a trap. He knew it.
He finally emerged into a vast space — an old workshop converted into a makeshift headquarters. And there, at the center, on a worn-out couch, lay Seraphina, still unconscious.
In front of her, seated on a swivel chair like a throne, a man was waiting. Flanked by half a dozen guards armed to the teeth, he wore the calm smile of someone in complete control.
Remedy stopped. No more need for stealth. He straightened his shoulders, his hammer resting casually on his shoulder, and walked toward them.
— To think that a mere Level 10 managed to take out two of my men without even a scratch, — said the man, the boss. His voice was raspy, filled with morbid curiosity. — If that's not humiliating, I don't know what is.
Remedy stopped at fighting distance.
— You're right, — he replied, his gaze as cold as the steel of his hammer. — It must be terribly humiliating.
The boss let out a short laugh, genuinely amused.
— You're really interesting, kid. How about joining my gang? There's always room for talent.
— Haha! Of course not. Who do you think you are?
The boss's smile vanished, replaced by lethal coldness. His men stepped forward, slowly encircling Remedy.
— Then you'll have to say goodbye to your life.
Remedy spun his hammer in his hand, dropping into a low, stable combat stance. An almost imperceptible smile curled his lips.
— That… isn't certain yet.
---
Inside the Intelligence Section.
— Identification confirmed! — an analyst shouted, making everyone jump. — They're members of the Baraka gang!
— The Baraka? — the manager repeated, the name resonating like a threat. — That newly risen gang of insane mercenaries?
— Yes! They accept any contract, no matter the risk, as long as the price is high enough. They're unpredictable. And their leader—
— — reached Tier 1 less than a month ago, — the manager cut in, finishing the thought. Her face paled slightly. The situation had just changed dramatically.
She turned sharply toward the exit, her coat flaring behind her.
— Move. Now. Mobilize the nearest intervention team — rookies or not. And alert high command. If the Baraka leader is involved, and he's Tier 1…
She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.
The terror in her subordinates' eyes said everything.
They had to hurry.
Before Remedy, facing an opponent of a higher Tier, was completely overwhelmed.
---
Chapter 26 — End