Dead or Not?
His frail body ached, but he forced himself to focus. He needed to get out of here and capture the Rat.
That was his only chance to turn this dire situation around.
"Who sent you?" the Rat had demanded.
Marcus stared at him, silent.
His mind calculating every possible move.
The Rat paced back and forth, clearly impatient.
"I have no time for games," the Rat sneered, "Talk, or things will get worse for you."
Marcus cracked his neck, an old habit that never failed to unnerve his enemies.
"If you wish to make things worse for me," Marcus said slowly, "you'll have to be more creative. But know this: harming me will only hasten your demise." he hoped the bluff would buy him some time.
The Rat's eyes narrowed, anger flickering in their depths.
"It seems you're as stubborn as you are foolish," he retorted.
He turned away, muttering something under his breath.
Marcus took the opportunity to assess the room. It was small and grimy, with water dripping from the ceiling. A single flickering light bulb dangled from a wire above them.
His cane and laz-pistol lay just a few feet away, tantalizingly out of reach.
He needed to get to it.
Quickly, but quietly, he activated the System in his mind.
[Warning: Imminent danger of death.]
[Suggested action: Escape and capture the Rat.]
Marcus took a deep breath, planning his next steps. The Rat was busy fiddling with something on a table.
Marcus saw his chance.
He shifted, using all his strength to push the chair just a bit closer to his cane.
It scraped lightly against the floor, but the Rat didn't notice.
A few more inches, and he'd be within reach.
The Rat suddenly turned around, his gaze sharp.
"What are you up to?" he demanded.
"Just getting comfortable," Marcus replied nonchalantly.
The Rat's suspicion didn't waver, but he moved back to the table.
Marcus pushed the chair again, finally reaching his cane.
In one swift movement, he grabbed it and jerked, breaking the weak ropes.
The Rat whipped around, eyes wide.
"Bastard!" he yelled, reaching for a weapon.
But Marcus was quicker.
With a practiced flick, he switched the cane to his firearm.
His Quick-Draw II skill kicked in.
He aimed and fired, but the sleeping gas was still in his system, his still-weak body made his shot go wide.
Sparks flew as the bullet ricocheted off the walls. The Rat dived behind the table, narrowly avoiding the bullet.
"You're not leaving here alive!" the Rat screamed.
Marcus felt the heavy weight of his ailment dragging him down, but he couldn't afford to stop now.
He pushed forward, leveraging his cane for support. The Rat rushed at him with a knife, desperation in his movements.
Marcus sidestepped, barely avoiding the blade.
He swung his cane, the heavy metal head connecting with the Rat's wrist. Hint's of his former life as a medieval roman soldier still ingrained in his mind, it reminded him of training recruits in the fields, slapping their wrists when they left openings.
The knife clattered to the ground.
"Give up!" Marcus growled, feeling his strength ebbing.
The Rat stumbled back but refused to yield.
Their eyes locked, the room filled with tension.
In one last desperate lunge, the Rat grabbed a shard of broken glass and lunged at Marcus.
Marcus's quick reflexes kicked in.
He raised his cane, deflecting the attack and delivering a swift strike to the Rat's head.
The Rat crumpled, the improvised weapon slipping from his fingers.
But his determination didn't die with this fall. From inside his coat pocket the Rat began pulling out a button of some sort and Marcus had the sinking suspicion it would lead to more gas. And if he fell asleep again he suspected the Rat wouldn't be foolish enough to let him wake up.
Eyes blazing with defiance, the Rat spat out, "You think you've won? You'll never—"
Marcus aimed his firearm, cold and steady.
"Say goodnight," he intoned.
He fired.
The bullet hit its mark, and the Rat's eyes widened in shock.
He fell to the ground, lifeless.
A flood of emotions surged through Marcus.
He had won, but at what cost?
He needed the Rat alive to fulfill his deal with Mr. Black.
Now that chance was lost.
[Quest Update: Capture the Rat—Failed]
[Suggestion: Find another way to secure Mr. Black's favor]
Marcus took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The System's mechanical voice echoed in his mind, listing possible next steps.
[Next action: Secure the area. Search for valuable information or tools. Plan your next move.]
Marcus nodded to himself. There was no time to mourn his mistake. He needed to move forward, adapt, and survive.
He searched the Rat's pockets and found a small, encrypted device. It might hold valuable information, a potential lifeline to salvage his deal.
He pocketed it and scanned the room for anything else useful.
He found himself scanning the pipes in the room, his eyes following their metallic body up to a system on the ceiling that had canisters attached to it.
Marcus wondered if that where the gas came from?
[New potential knowledge: Gas Weapon Systems I]
Marcus studied the system more and more becoming fully enchanted by the mechanism, it was a simple system involving a vent and distribution system. It was a system that required pipes to send the gas to the right place else it may also effect it's user, the Rat for example must've held his breath as he ran from the initial room.
But what if the user didn't need to breath? Marcus thought of Shadow and his automations, what if they had a weapon that didn't require skill to aim or use, just the simple ability to turn it on or off.
[Bonus gained towards knowledge: Gas Weapon Systems I price reduced!]
Marcus smiled but quickly frowned as his gaze returned to the dead body of the Rat. He doubted Mr. Black would believe him he provided a body alone.
Marcus shrugged, he could always lower the price to Mr.Black or in the worst case try and sell it to the police.
He was safe as long as he had the blackmail and Mr.Black believed his death would release it.
Marcus shuddered, not at his murderous deed but at the damp environment, it made his Space Plague bite harder, but Marcus knew he couldn't afford to rest.
Grabbing a small bag of supplies from the table, he steeled himself for the next phase of his plan.
His cane in one hand and his quick-draw firearm in the other, he limped out of the room.
The corridors were just as dark and foreboding as before, but Marcus felt a new sense of determination. He moved cautiously, aware that the Rat's could have allies lurking around any corner.
As he was walking his wrist-holo buzzed, it was a voice request from Shadow.
"Yes?" Marcus answered.
"Creator, the police have departed." Shadow replied.
Marcus scrunched his eyebrows and sighed realizing he hadn't had a chance to show any progress to Detective Vega before he left. That was another line of defense gone.
"No matter, the blackmail will protect us from Mr. Black." Marcus said, ready to end the call, but then Shadow said something else.
"On that topic creator, a package was dropped off anonymously, it's an envelope that says 'From the Rat.'"
Marcus froze in place.
If that man back there had been the Rat, who had sent the package?