chapter 54

..Battle..

Every ACPA (Armored Combat Personal Armor) pilot is taught one vital lesson before stepping into their armor and experiencing its superhuman power: never get so absorbed in your superiority that you ignore smaller, but potentially lethal, threats. Among these threats, grenades and rockets are the most emphasized.

The armor of an ACPA is comparable to that of a main battle tank. However, even tanks can be incapacitated or destroyed when hit by multiple rockets, or worse, a single well-placed, specialized round. Grenades, while less powerful, still demand respect.

So, when the first grenade rolled into view, the ACPA pilot instinctively dodged to the side. But after evading, he noticed something strange—the grenade didn't explode. It simply stopped on the side of the road, sitting idle.

A dud?

That was his first thought. Then, he saw Karl casually toss another grenade toward his position without even glancing.

Weighing his options, the pilot chose to dodge again. Unlike before, he didn't attempt to shoot the grenade mid-air with the heavy machine gun in his hands. The ACPA's perfect evasion reflex, drilled into him through relentless training, took over once more.

But the second grenade also landed harmlessly.

Another dud.

It finally clicked.

The pilot realized Karl was toying with him.

An overwhelming sense of humiliation boiled within him. This wasn't the first time this mercenary had gotten the better of him. Earlier, Karl's shooting had humiliated him. Now, the same man had made him look like a fool again, exploiting his caution with fake grenades.

Just a street mercenary. A lowlife who survives in the dirt, mocking me, an elite!

The pilot fumed. He had climbed the ranks, beaten his peers, and earned the honor of piloting an ACPA. For this mission, his superiors had violated Night City's strict bans to smuggle his ACPA in. He couldn't fail them.

Driven by anger, the pilot abandoned Haruko, who lay gravely injured nearby, assuming she was no longer a threat. He turned his full attention to Karl, who had just disappeared into a nearby building.

Think you can hide behind stone walls? My armor can crush stone like tofu.

The ACPA was a medium-class model, designed for precision strikes on the battlefield. While not as nimble as light armor, it had a significant speed advantage over heavy models. Each step left deep footprints in the concrete as the pilot advanced, calming himself with the assurance of the power at his command.

In his mind, he replayed his earlier mistakes.

He shouldn't have dodged. His armor could have absorbed the grenade blast without issue. He should have stood his ground, withstood the explosion, and torn Karl apart with the machine gun.

But none of this self-reflection included abandoning his reckless need to humiliate Karl.

The pilot's obsession with the ACPA's power was common. Once someone experienced the extraordinary, it was almost impossible to return to being ordinary. This attachment was often left unbroken during training, as exposing the illusion of invincibility often led to dangerous madness.

Karl, meanwhile, had taken shelter inside the building.

The pilot, without hesitation, chose a direct approach.

Crash!

The ACPA barreled through the wall, scattering concrete and debris into the air.

"Sir, you need to register—"

The frightened voice of a receptionist was cut off by the sound of the collapsing wall. The ACPA pilot emerged into the lobby, a wide space of about 800 square meters. Seven staff members in professional attire screamed in terror at the intrusion.

The pilot ignored them. They were insignificant bugs compared to his prey.

Scanning the room, he spotted Karl retreating up a 20-meter escalator leading to the second floor.

Without hesitation, he raised his machine gun and opened fire.

The weapon's 2,000-round-per-minute firing rate unleashed a storm of bullets. The escalator was obliterated in seconds, but amid the twisted metal and crumbling debris, there was no blood or sign of Karl.

He must've slipped away at the last second.

But there was no escape.

The ACPA pilot charged forward, planted his feet, and used the armor's powerful legs to leap directly to the second floor, five meters above.

When he landed, he saw Karl again. But this time, Karl wasn't running.

He was waiting.

As if anticipating the pilot's arrival, Karl lobbed another grenade—this one primed to explode.

Boom!

The explosion rocked the second floor. The pilot's ascent was cut short as the blast sent him hurtling back to the ground.

Dazed but not out, the pilot instinctively aimed his machine gun at Karl and squeezed the trigger.

But he never saw the result.

The ACPA slammed into the ground below with a deafening crash, leaving the pilot lying still amidst the rubble.

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