Chapter 649: Chapter 562: Rusted Love Letter (1)

...

Skyline City, Skyline Terminal.

The young man stood there, gazing at the serene city in the distance, light and shadow slanting from afar, forming a dividing line in the city center. Seabirds flew across the clear sky, emitting crisp cries.

Was it an illusion?

He seemed to hear the sound of the waves, layer upon layer of waves pushed onto the pale white sand, covering the gravel and milky white pebbles. Occasionally, larger waves crashed onto the beach, with blue whales stranded one by one, their massive bodies blocking the light, breathing heavily, heavily...

The illusion shattered.

He saw a gray city.

Curved skyscrapers stood under the gloom, making it hard to breathe.

They were the ones emitting a lament.

"The skyline isn’t anything beautiful either."

"It’s all a lie," the young man murmured.

"This is not Heaven."

"Glenn, how are you preparing for tomorrow’s performance? The whole city will synchronize your show. You absolutely cannot have the same mistakes as before, understand?"

"Mm." The young man swiped away the curtain in front of him.

Glenn looked at his score of 99, a slight ripple appeared in his weary yet calm eyes, and a faint curve lifted at the corners of his mouth.

"I will."

He finally...

was no longer perfect.

Glenn slowly spread his arms, letting his body lean downward.

Embrace the sunlight.

Embrace the wind in the air.

Embrace the city he once loved endlessly.

...

Half a year ago, the Rebel Army established a base north of the Skyline, launching a resistance against Firefly. The occupied areas were lost and regained under Firefly’s siege, cold numerical codes replaced once-flourishing city districts, skyscrapers turned to ruins, streets became scorched earth, and the air was always filled with the smell of smoke.

The war never stopped.

War Zone No. 26.

A mobile task force was advancing into the city, their figures conspicuous beneath the ruins. This was a Rebel-occupied area, and they were at constant risk of exposure.

Once exposed, they would face a baptism of artillery fire.

They were approaching a deserted tower in the southeast, according to intelligence, the enemy’s command was located there.

The frontal Firefly forces were diverting the enemy’s firepower; their mission this time was to capture a defector Disciplinary Officer, who was a traitor and a senior commander of the enemy.

The infiltration so far had been smooth, occasionally vigilant patrols were avoided successfully.

Inside the tower, a young man yawned, holding a bouquet of flowers, standing in front of the door. By the door was an old-fashioned assault rifle, and behind the door was the girl he admired.

Yuri chatted sparsely with the girl behind the door about the past. They had known each other for a long time. According to the recent trend, you might call it childhood friends.

When talking about his embarrassing moments, the young man chuckled softly, lowered his head bashfully, and scratched his head.

In a place not illuminated by the light of the New Gospel, he could finally express his feelings, revealing the thoughts he had held for so long.

Two ever-anxious hearts were drawing closer.

A hand reached out from the darkness, Yuri opened his mouth to shout, but it was tightly covered, feeling something cold seep into his veins, flowing through his entire body.

Immediately, a soft, powerless feeling rushed over him, and his body uncontrollably fell, fell, finally contacting the ground.

The old-fashioned rifle stood by the door, and from the bouquet rolled out blood-stained, rusty love letters.

Sancho coordinated with teammates to eliminate two guards, then signaled to the nearby teammates. The drone’s buzzing started, traversing the passage, interrupting all communication devices along the way, projecting false images onto the surveillance.

He hated these people, so he never showed mercy.

It was these people who took away peace, these people who stripped the city of its tranquility, these people who brought the flames of war to this city, consuming countless innocent lives.

It was these people who took the young man from his side, brainwashing him.

The structure inside the old tower was intricate and maze-like, with corridors interconnecting. Incandescent lights flickered overhead, and no one knew if an enemy would suddenly emerge at the next corner. So, every squad member was cautious, holding their weapons in tactical stances as they moved forward.

Before the outbreak of the war, nearly a thousand Bionics lived here, most scoring below sixty, labeled poorly, only able to engage in dangerous manual labor, not allowed into most public areas.

At this moment, a woman with a baby suddenly opened her door, encountering several task force members. As they exchanged glances, the woman’s face revealed confusion and panic.

Looking at the woman’s Awakened red label, the rear task force member decisively drew a gun but was pressed down by the captain, who gestured to the woman to keep silent, indicating this matter had nothing to do with her.

Just as the two were in disagreement, the woman took a submachine gun from the baby’s swaddling clothes and fired in the captain’s direction.

Gunfire flickered in the dim corridor.

The stray bullets grazed the captain. These bullets, due to their high-performance coating, weren’t lethal to them, not even considered surface wounds.

Reacting promptly, Sancho stepped forward decisively, attempting to seize the gun from the woman, and they began to scuffle.

In the chaos, a stray bullet penetrated the woman’s neck, her eyes widened, pupils rapidly contracting, swaying before collapsing onto the ground.

Sancho’s breathing quickened as he pressed down on the woman’s neck, trying to stop the bleeding.

But the woman fiercely swatted his hand away, glaring at him with a gaze almost savage; he saw rage and endless hatred in her eyes.

Her neck kept bleeding out, unstoppable, and as blood flooded into her trachea and lungs, her body began to convulse, and her voice became fragmented.

"Devil."

Blood oozed from her gritted teeth.

"I hate you...you are...devils."

Sancho couldn’t understand this look.

These civilians lived amid the flames of war; it was these guys who disrupted the original order. Why was there hatred in this woman’s eyes toward them?

Weren’t they the ones bringing order?

The baby’s cries rang out.

The commotion quickly alerted the Rebels in the corridor; several task force members realized the situation wasn’t good, swiftly moving to leave.

Suddenly, large hands broke through the wall, crushing the head of the foremost task force member, sparking electric arcs illuminated the man’s ferocious face, every muscle on his massive body coiled and twisted, with extensive modifications making him look like a wild beast.

Another task force member saw this scene, stepping back in panic, firing at the man, only for the bullets to be stopped by the man’s stance, embedding in the gridded transparent shield. With heavy breaths emanating from beneath the man’s leather mask, white steam spewed out, and all the bullets fell to the ground.

He easily slammed the upper body of the task force member against the wall, leaving only an empty lower half standing, which soon kneeled over.

In the darkness, powerful intimidation emanated from the man, his pump device on his back rising and falling like a piling machine, crimson liquid glowing as its bodily fluids began to circulate rapidly, high temperatures generated twisting the surrounding air.

"*wheezing*"

The man roared.