Capítulo 54: Combate

Every ACPA pilot, before stepping into their suit and experiencing that inhuman power, was always warned about one thing—

Don't get too caught up in the thrill of power.

And most importantly—

Always be wary of grenades and rockets.

An ACPA's armor was comparable to a main battle tank, but even a tank could be disabled or destroyed if hit with enough anti-armor rockets.

And grenades?

While not as deadly, they could still pose a threat.

So when Karl's first grenade rolled toward the ACPA's feet, the pilot instinctively dodged—

Jumping aside before it could explode.

But—

It didn't.

The grenade just sat there.

Unmoving.

A dud?

The pilot barely had time to process this thought when Karl threw another one.

This time, instead of dodging, he hesitated.

A gatling cannon was heavy as hell, even for someone in an ACPA suit.

He couldn't pull any fancy sniper tricks like before, shooting a moving target out of the air.

So he dodged again—instinctively executing a perfect evasive maneuver drilled into him through countless training sessions.

The grenade hit the ground nearby.

And just like the last one—

It didn't explode.

"Another dud?"

No.

Now, he understood.

Karl was playing him.

A wave of humiliation crashed over the pilot.

The first time Karl had humiliated him was when he outgunned him in a duel.

Now?

Again?!

Being mocked—tricked—by some street-rat mercenary?

Him?

An elite soldier?

A man who had climbed past dozens of competitors, securing his position above them all?

Unforgivable.

This mission was too important.

His superiors had broken Night City's laws just to smuggle an ACPA suit into the city for this operation.

And he couldn't afford to fail.

The ACPA pilot clenched his fists, his humiliation twisting into rage.

His orders had been clear.

But at this moment?

He didn't give a damn about orders.

All that mattered—

Was killing Karl.

Leaving Haruko behind, the ACPA pilot charged—

Pursuing Karl into a nearby building.

"Hiding behind walls? You think that'll save you?"

His ACPA suit was a newly developed combat prototype—

A medium-class ACPA designed for precision battlefield operations.

Not as nimble as a light ACPA.

But nowhere near as cumbersome as a heavy one.

Perfectly balanced.

The ACPA's weight left deep footprints in the pavement as it moved—

A testament to the raw power stored in its reinforced frame.

The pilot steadied himself—analyzing his previous mistakes.

His armor could withstand grenades.

He should have ignored them—

Shot Karl down the moment he turned his back.

But did he regret playing cat and mouse with him?

Not even for a second.

Every ACPA pilot, the longer they spent inside their suits, the more they sank into their own delusions.

They weren't human.

They were gods of war.

The nightmare of any battlefield.

And the truth?

Not even their trainers dared to shatter that illusion—

Because the moment an ACPA pilot realized they were just another soldier in a machine—

The madness set in.

They could never go back.

The ACPA sprinted forward—

Closing the distance in seconds.

Karl had just barely made it inside the building—

When the pilot made his next move.

His preferred method of entry?

Pure brute force.

He charged.

For an ACPA, concrete walls were about as sturdy as tofu.

In fact, for an ACPA pilot, who had spent more time smashing through stone than cutting tofu—

Concrete might actually be the weaker of the two.

"Sir, you'll need to register—"

The pilot heard a voice from the other side of the wall, seemingly speaking to Karl—

But another sound cut through it.

The beautiful music of a wall shattering.

"CRASH!"

"AAAAH!!!"

Surrounded by screams of terror, the ACPA pilot burst through the concrete, stepping into the lobby of the building—

A wide-open space spanning 800 square meters.

Seven employees in reception uniforms stood frozen—

Shocked by his sudden and violent entrance.

But the pilot ignored them.

They were insects.

Crushable. Disposable.

His only target was Karl.

His eyes swept the room.

Then—

There.

Karl's silhouette flashed at the top of a long escalator, leading from the first floor to the second.

The distance?

Twenty meters.

Without hesitation, the pilot raised his Gatling cannon—

And pulled the trigger.

The ACPA's machine gun roared to life—

2,000 rounds per minute, a stream of lead turning into a solid copper line in the air.

The bullets ripped through the escalator, tearing apart the metal framework, sending fragments of stone and steel flying.

But—

No blood. No flesh.

Karl had vanished before the bullets could reach him.

A lucky last-second dodge?

It doesn't matter.

He won't escape.

The ACPA pilot stormed forward, standing at the base of the destroyed escalator.

Then—

He crouched.

Bracing his mechanical legs.

And—

Jumped.

A single leap propelled him five meters into the air—

Straight to the second floor.

And there—

He saw Karl.

Only—

Karl wasn't running anymore.

He was waiting.

As if he had been expecting this moment all along—

Karl threw a grenade.

This time—

It exploded.

Mid-air.

Right in the ACPA's path.

The blastwave hit hard, breaking the pilot's upward momentum—

Sending him plummeting back to the first floor.

The last thing he managed to do—

Before slamming into the ground with a deafening crash—

Was pull the trigger.

But he never got to see if he hit his mark.