Ashen Crucible

Chapter 9: The Next Appointment

Chapter 9: The Next Appointment (Part 1)

Su sat by the 30th-floor window, coldly observing the cautious procession moving through the streets below. He didn't aim, reveal killing intent, or prepare for action - merely observed and memorized every detail. When alone later, he would replay these memories to study each person's gait, posture, and most trivial habitual movements. This detached observation kept him undetected by these perceptive enemies.

Over the past 24 hours, Su had repeatedly approached and withdrawn from them, testing their sensory thresholds through simulated targeting and psychological pressure. Though his own stamina dwindled rapidly, he knew his enemies' reserves drained faster - their water exhausted, high-energy rations nearly depleted, and most crucially, deprived of proper sleep. Su prowled their perimeter, awaiting opportunities to eliminate isolated sentries.

He'd identified two such openings but refrained from attacking. The sentries' subtle facial tensions and similar reactions among lower-ranking team members raised his suspicions. Despite confirming no additional ambush forces, the apparent vulnerability felt artificial - these weren't opponents who'd make such mistakes. After analyzing surrounding terrain and calculating all viable sniper positions, Su grasped their strategy.

The urban environment's complexity prevented extreme-distance sniping. Both rest areas they'd chosen were encircled by firing positions none exceeding 700 meters. Clearly, their team contained a perception specialist with precisely that range - likely the gray-haired youth who'd miraculously deflected Su's "certain kill" shot earlier. This unassuming, seldom-speaking young man with ash-gray eyes haunted Su's calculations. What other hidden abilities did he possess?

A fresh wave of agony exploded in Su's skull. He withdrew from the window, clutching his trembling head against the wall, breathing in controlled silence. Any sudden movement might alert the wolfpack passing 800 meters below.

Thoom.

A muffled gunshot rolled through the urban canyons.

Before the sound fully registered, the procession scattered into evasive maneuvers. Lekonar and Oberon sidestepped with preternatural timing while Retired Lei remained smoking casually - if targeted, he knew dodging would be futile. Only Oberon's intervention might save him, and staying put made that marginally easier.

No bullet followed the report.

Lekonar accelerated into erratic sprints, inhumanly fast even while zigzagging. Within moments he pinpointed the sound's origin near a derelict seven-story building - then froze, face darkening.

The trap became clear upon entry: Blood and burning flesh smeared one wall. A mutilated zombie missing half its chest flopped screeching on the floor beside a spent shell casing and scattered tools. Another bullet embedded in the floorboards showed hammer marks - these undead had tried cracking open an incendiary round, triggering the explosion that maimed their comrade.

"Layered traps," Lekonar hissed, realization dawning a heartbeat before icy dread gripped his spine. He tackled a nearby retainer as a fresh shot tore through the opposite window.

Oberon materialized on the windowsill, defensive fields already flaring. The bullet slowed, glowing red as it breached his barrier before liquefying into molten spray. With acrobatic precision, he twisted around the deadly droplets, fingertips brushing a power line to regain balance.

Retired Lei abandoned his climbing position when sizzling metal rained down, rolling into a neighboring balcony. "f**k me sideways," he muttered, watching molten depressions form where he'd clung moments earlier.

Oberon stood statuesque despite pallid complexion and sweat-slicked brow. That bullet's impact had carried another psychic message: "Next time, I'll kill you."

Ten blocks east, Su sat cross-legged in a skeletal office tower, cleaning his rifle barrel beside a row of color-coded specialty rounds. Dying sunlight glared through jagged glass teeth, creating twenty minutes of blinding glare before true darkness fell - his countdown to hunting time.

Chapter 9: The Next Appointment (Part 2)

The labyrinthine underground tunnels echoed with storm-like footsteps. Oberon's ash-gray pupils glowed faintly, his vision now a kaleidoscope of colors tracing a vivid path left by Su.

He made no attempt to silence his steps—pointless against Su’s preternatural senses. Unlike Su, who thrived in the wilds, Oberon lacked survivalist instincts. If Su vanished into this concrete wilderness, Oberon knew he’d never find him again.

So he sprinted recklessly at 50 km/h through the maze, relying on sheer speed and stamina to close the gap. When Su had fled underground earlier, Oberon had glimpsed the crisscrossing wounds still marring his exposed skin. He can’t last long in direct combat, Oberon thought, though his fury cooled slightly after their earlier skirmish.

Another junction flashed by. Oberon suddenly leaned backward, boots screeching against rusted rails in a shower of sparks. He slid past the intersection just as Su emerged from a parallel maintenance tunnel, rifle raised.

In the darkness, Su’s emerald eyes glowed like radioactive gems.

The tunnel erupted in muzzle flash. By the time the gunshot reached Oberon, the bullet had already cratered the wall behind him. Su had fired preemptively, but Oberon’s backward slide caused the round to whistle harmlessly past his chest.

Oberon retaliated with a sweep of his left hand. The world dissolved into fire and thunder as momentum carried him past the intersection.

When he doubled back, Su had vanished. Embedded in the maintenance tunnel wall was a 30cm ice disc, its razor edge sunk 10cm into concrete. Oberon yanked it free—no blood.

Neither had drawn first blood. Yet the near-miss sobered Oberon. He resumed pursuit, tracking Su’s fading aura—a flickering green ember in his enhanced vision. Though Su maintained distance, Oberon’s superior speed steadily closed the 100m gap.

Dangerous subterranean creatures fled their path, instinctually avoiding both hunters.

Su’s trail terminated at a derelict subway station bathroom. The ceiling vent hung open, its grate discarded in haste. Oberon launched himself upward, elbow impaling the stainless steel duct to anchor his weight.

The vertical shaft curved horizontally into darkness. Oberon pressed his right palm forward. The station trembled as an invisible force rippled through the vent—steel screeched, crumpling like paper under a hydraulic press.

At the duct’s far end, Su’s modified rifle clattered out first. The man himself exploded from the collapsing tunnel milliseconds before it imploded, landing in a crouch. He glanced at the twisted metal death-trap, then vanished into shadow.

The hunt continued.

Oberon’s mental map grew with each turn, his pace unrelenting. When the gap narrowed to 30m, Su suddenly halted. Oberon accelerated explosively—he’d memorized this stretch. Two turns separated them. Two seconds to close the distance.

He rounded the first corner wall-running, only to find a rusted oil drum at the next bend. A tracer round pierced its side.

KABOOM.

The fireball engulfed Oberon mid-air. Instinct conjured an ice shield that shattered on impact. Flames hurled him backward into the wall, uniform ablaze, hair scorched. He crumpled coughing blood.

Across the inferno, Su backpedaled with unnatural speed, rifle trained on the flames. When no figure emerged, he retreated up a service stairway.

Dawn found Su atop a skyscraper, watching Oberon’s convoy leave the city. His jade gaze fixed on Retired Lei—the traitor who’d led Dark Dragon Knights to him.

Memories flickered: Lei’s cigarette glow in dark camps, Lyle’s fiery hair and defiant eyes. Had she betrayed their game? Unlikely—Rockthern Corporation couldn’t command entities like the Knights. More probably, they’d traded information.

Su’s finger traced his rifle stock. Whether Lei or Lyle was responsible mattered little now. Rockthern would learn the cost of hunting wasteland predators.

As for Oberon...

Next time, Su’s psychic whisper carried on the wind.

From the ruins below, icy resolve answered: Same.