Chapter 17: Farewell

The moment Karl turned the corner at the end of the hallway, he found himself in a massive warehouse, cluttered with machinery and scrap metal, like a cannery gone rogue.

In the distance, Oliver and Jackie had already taken cover behind a steel workbench, both frantically waving him over.

Oliver clutched his Nova, while Jackie, gripping the Copperhead that originally belonged to Oliver, had his sights locked onto the corridor behind Karl, waiting for whoever was chasing him to step into range.

Even though they were ready, neither Jackie nor Oliver had any clue what Karl had just run into.

"That bitch's got subdermal armor! My Lexington doesn't do shit!"

Karl shouted mid-sprint, explaining why he hadn't already taken her down.

Hearing that, Jackie groaned.

"Told you to get a better gun, mano!"

"Yeah, well, I'm regretting it NOW!"

Lesson fucking learned. The Copperhead packed way more punch than the Lexington, but in some situations, a sidearm was irreplaceable.

Accuracy couldn't always substitute raw power.

Karl was learning that the hard way.

Just a few meters from reaching the others, he heard it—

Heavy metal footsteps.

She was already here.

"What the fuck?! I had a two-second head start!"

Karl knew he wouldn't make it in time. His eyes scanned the chaos around him, searching for cover—

A dumpster.

Huge and overflowing with rusted machinery and scrap parts.

I swear, I have the worst luck with trash.

The moment Daemon burst from the corridor, her six glowing red eyes locked onto Karl diving behind the towering bin.

And right then—

Jackie and Oliver opened fire.

A storm of Copperhead and Nova rounds rained down the corridor.

But—

Daemon didn't flinch.

She charged straight through it.

Her subdermal armor tanked the incoming shots, letting her power forward like a freight train.

She wasn't trying to survive.

She was trying to kill Oliver—even if it meant going down with him.

"Cabrón, she's going for a suicide rush! That's a Crusher—this cover's not gonna stop that shit!"

Jackie cursed, trigger locked as he tried to drop her before she closed the gap.

"Her armor's thicker than we thought—how much did she spend on that upgrade?!"

Oliver shouted, desperate.

Daemon didn't just charge—she shot back.

Her Yukimura pistol spat fire, rounds zipping straight at Oliver.

He didn't know her. Didn't know why she wanted him dead.

But it didn't matter.

She was about to reach the perfect range.

Her Yukimura clicked dry.

She dropped it.

Both hands now gripped the Crusher.

One more second and both Oliver and Jackie were paste.

But Karl hadn't gone behind the dumpster to hide.

He vanished from her sight for a reason.

Those six cybernetic eyes had a wide field of view—almost impossible to flank her.

Almost.

But now—

Every one of those red eyes was focused on Oliver.

She wanted to see him die.

That was her mistake.

Karl launched from the top of the dumpster and slammed into her.

She heard the shift in air—too late.

A full-grown merc, moving at speed? Even Daemon couldn't hold her ground.

They hit the floor hard.

That was all Karl managed to do.

A split second later—

A metal fist smashed into his face.

Like a goddamn steel piston. His nose shattered. Blood sprayed.

"Get the fuck off me!"

Her left hand was pinned under Karl's leg, but her right was free.

She swung again.

Another metal punch—

Karl's skull rang. His vision blurred. Lights out—

Almost.

But—

He had one shot left.

He could feel it.

Oliver and Jackie were charging in to help, but Karl already had his weapon drawn.

He wasn't worried about friendly fire.

The Lexington barked.

Just as her fist connected one last time.

His cheekbone cracked. His head snapped back.

Blood burst from his mouth.

And yet—

Karl grinned.

Because he'd figured it out.

Subdermal armor on the knuckles—

But not on the fingers.

Fingers could be shot off.

He didn't aim for the punching hand.

That could still kill him.

He shot the other hand.

The one gripping the Crusher.

Her fingers exploded.

The massive shotgun clattered to the ground.

Karl grabbed it mid-roll.

Through the blood, through the ringing in his ears, he smirked down at her.

"Pleasure meeting you, sweetheart."

Daemon's six red eyes locked onto one thing:

The Crusher.

Now in Karl's hands.

"Better luck next time."

PONG!