Chapter 2 Tragedy

"Mary... how is the woman there?"

Mary's expression saddened, a quiet response, "Sergeant... we lost her."

The men moved strangely, saliva pouring from their mouths as they rushed at Sergeant May with incredible speed.

May and Sergeant May fired in quick succession, but the men effortlessly dodged the bullets. One of the men closed the distance, and in a terrifying scene, Sergeant May sewed their lifeless eye into her mind. Terror struck her heart.

That's when Sergeant May realized—not again.

She kicked one of the men at close range and ran, shouting, "Mary, run!"

But in that moment, Mary stood frozen, too petrified to move, gazing at Sergeant May with a smile. Right behind her, the men surged forward, leaping at her.

Tears filled Sergeant May's eyes as she realized it was too late to save her. Fear gripped her, but she turned and fled to the police car. Inside, she quickly activated the vehicle's radio and urgently contacted the station.

"Unit 2-31, Code 99, requesting immediate backup. Multiple armed suspects in the area, urgent assistance required."

"What's your location, Unit 2-31?"

"District 6, in front of an abandoned building," May responded, gripping the radio.

"Roger that, Unit 2-31. Sending reinforcements to your loca—"

A sharp scream cut through the transmission as fists slammed against the police car, rocking it violently.

"Please, stop! Ahh!" May cried out, pressing herself against the seat as the mob pounded against the windows.

Then, in an instant, a rough hand shot through the shattered glass, latching onto her throat. The grip was crushing, her vision darkening as she clawed at the arm restraining her.

But just as suddenly as it came, the pressure vanished. Coughing, she gasped for air, her dazed eyes flickering to the men outside.

They weren't looking at her anymore.

Their gazes were fixed upward, their expressions shifting from rage to something else—fear.

Slowly, May turned her head toward the sky.

A loud, chilling laugh echoed from above.

Sergeant May's breath hitched. She knew that laugh.

"Don't tell me… it's Dante."

Before she could fully process it, a shadow dropped from above. With a swift, almost effortless motion, Dante incapacitated one of the men. As the others froze in shock, he ran his tongue over his lips, eyes glinting with amusement.

Fear crept into the gang. They lunged at him, knives flashing under the dim light, but it was useless. He was too fast, too unpredictable—vanishing and reappearing before they could land a single blow. Their attacks met nothing but air.

Panic set in. One by one, their resolve shattered.

Then, the first man turned and bolted.

Like a chain reaction, the others followed.

Dante let out a laugh, wild and gleeful. "Ahahaha! Running now? Then let's make this fun."

With a predator's grace, he gave chase, his custom-made pistol flashing in the dark. One by one, they fell—each shot precise, each kill effortless.

"Ahaha!" Dante laughed as the last body hit the ground, the hunt finally over.

He turned his gaze toward Sergeant May. She quickly looked away, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Aren't you… Mal? Maria? Marissa?" he teased, throwing out names just to get a reaction.

May clenched her jaw. "No. I'm Sergeant May."

Dante's grin widened at her defiant response, amusement flickering in his eyes. But before he could reply, the air suddenly grew heavy.

A dense, unnatural mist began to spread, curling around May's legs like ghostly tendrils. A cold dread settled in her chest.

Dante's expression darkened instantly. His body tensed, all traces of amusement gone as he turned sharply—his eyes locking onto the figure emerging from the fog.

A man stood there, dressed in a crisp military uniform, a knowing smile on his lips.

"Isn't it you… 117, a.k.a. Dante Alvarez?" the man spoke, his voice calm yet laced with something ominous.

Dante's expression darkened, hatred flashing in his eyes.

"It's rare to see you here, Major Z." His voice dripped with venom. Then, he glanced at the fallen men, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Ah… I see. These weaklings were yours? If I remember correctly, your little trick is mind control."

Major Z chuckled, a manic glint in his eyes. "Ahaha! You're mostly right. But they weren't my men—just disposable pawns. A little… experiment for my genius."

His laughter grew wilder, echoing through the mist. Then, the heavy thrum of helicopter blades filled the air. The aircraft hovered above, a ladder unfurling toward him.

Major Z grinned, gripping the ladder with one hand. "Looks like our fight isn't today, old friend. But the Order sends its regards… seems you've been quite the nuisance."

With that, the helicopter lifted higher, carrying him into the night.

Dante exhaled sharply, smirking as he lowered his gun.

"Tch… coward."

As Dante disappeared into the shadows, Sergeant May hesitated before reaching for her radio again.

This time, the signal went through.

"Dispatch, this is Unit 2-31. Requesting immediate medical and law enforcement support. The scene is secure, but we have casualties."

Within minutes, the wail of sirens filled the air. Police cars and ambulances arrived, red and blue lights flashing against the darkened streets. Officers secured the area while paramedics rushed in.

May's steps felt heavy as she approached one of the ambulances. Inside a body bag lay Mary—motionless, lifeless.

A lump formed in her throat, but she forced herself to stay composed.

A firm voice called out behind her.

"Sergeant May?"

She turned to see a man in a dark suit approaching, his sharp gaze scanning the scene.

"I'm Investigator Lee. I need your full cooperation. Give me your report immediately—for the record."

May exhaled slowly, her hands clenching into fists.

"Understood."