Chapter 12: The Choice—To Save or Not to Save?

Chapter 12: The Choice—To Save or Not to Save?

*Whoosh!*

Controlling two daggers, George silently took out two guards by slitting their throats and arrived at a fork in the corridor.

Based on the information he had gathered and overheard during his time here, the right path led to the cafeteria, and beyond that, the rooms where the mutant children were held. The left path led to the exit of the lab.

If he took the left path now, with his current abilities, he had a good chance of sneaking out safely, stealing a car, and escaping.

Once he reached the crowded city, he would be free as a bird.

With the mutant children drawing most of the fire, there likely wouldn't be many people chasing him afterward.

*"Ahhh!!!"*

Just as he was about to step onto the left path, a heart-wrenching scream echoed from the depths of the right path. It was a young voice, a child's voice.

That scream made George lower his raised foot.

"Sigh... I guess I'm not as rational or ruthless as I thought."

After a moment of hesitation, he turned and headed down the right path.

There were fifty mutant children in the lab, and from what he remembered in the movies, only about twenty, including X-23, managed to escape.

That meant over thirty children had died during the escape.

George didn't consider himself a saint, but he wasn't a villain either. He was just an average person with a normal moral compass.

Logically, letting the children draw the fire while he slipped away quietly was the safest option.

But humans aren't machines. How could anyone be so coldly rational?

If the screams had come from adults, he might have hardened his heart and ignored them. After all, they were strangers.

But these were just helpless children—children he saw every day. Though he had never spoken to them, he recognized them.

Still, he had a clear plan: save them if he could, but if it became too dangerous, he would prioritize his own survival.

---

In the cafeteria, Gabriela watched as three children who had tried to stop the pursuing guards were gunned down. Tears streamed down her face.

After discovering that the Genetic Modification Research Institute wasn't researching a cure for cancer but was instead breeding mutant assassins, she and a few other compassionate colleagues had decided to secretly help the children escape.

But before their plan could be put into action, the lab's higher-ups had decided to execute all the children.

Forced to act prematurely, they had begun their escape. However, despite the children's extraordinary abilities, they were no match for the experienced guards armed with cold, deadly firearms.

By the time they reached the cafeteria, several of Gabriela's colleagues had been killed while covering the escape, and more than a dozen children had already died. The chances of making it out alive were slim.

"Laura!"

Seeing X-23, the strongest of the children, who had already killed six guards, now pinned down and unable to break free, Gabriela grabbed a submachine gun from a dead guard's body and turned to the remaining children.

"Head to the exit. Aunt Isa will take you to safety."

Isa was the last surviving colleague, usually responsible for driving the supply truck that brought daily necessities from the city to the lab.

After receiving their message, she had driven the truck to the exit to pick them up.

"What about you and Laura?"

Ricktor, the oldest of the children, looked at Gabriela with concern.

Though they had lived in the lab their entire lives and lacked common knowledge, they weren't stupid.

"Ricktor, you're the oldest. I'm entrusting them to you. Take them to safety and wait for me there. I'll bring Laura to you."

Gabriela spoke gently but firmly, then opened fire with the submachine gun, trying to create an opening for the children to escape.

Her aim wasn't great, but the barrage of bullets forced the guards controlling Laura to scatter, allowing her to free one of her legs. With a fierce kick, she drove her adamantium claws into a guard's eye, temporarily breaking free.

However, more guards were clearly on their way.

Ricktor gritted his teeth and led the group of children, who were like siblings to him, down the corridor.

But just as they left the cafeteria, they were blocked by four armed guards.

"Everyone, attack!"

Though terrified, the children summoned their courage, ready to fight for their lives.

*Whoosh! Whoosh!*

Before they could use their abilities, two of the guards suddenly collapsed, blood spurting from their necks. The remaining two turned around, only to be met with bullets.

"Are you all okay?"

George had taken out the four guards. Seeing the stunned children, he breathed a sigh of relief.

There were still thirty-four children alive. He had arrived just in time.

"Subject 757!"

Ricktor was surprised to see that their rescuer was the silent Subject 757, but he quickly snapped out of it.

"Gabriela and Laura are still in the cafeteria—"

"I've cleared the guards behind us. Keep heading out. I'll go save them."

Without hesitation, George dropped his empty submachine gun, picked up two from the fallen guards, and rushed toward the cafeteria.

---

"Damn, she's brutal!"

As George entered the cafeteria, he saw Laura perched on a guard's shoulders, clawing at his head until brain matter spilled out.

The sheer ferocity of it even startled the surrounding guards.

But her small size worked against her. The guards, recovering from the shock, opened fire, forcing her back. Though her healing factor kept her alive, she was overwhelmed and pushed into retreat.

Nearby, Gabriela, out of bullets, was pinned behind cover, unable to help.

"Damn it!"

At this point, relying solely on daggers to kill the enemies wasn't going to work. George didn't have a healing factor to protect him from the barrage of bullets.

If he didn't eliminate the guards quickly, he'd be overwhelmed by their firepower.

So, George raised the two submachine guns, using his magnetic powers to influence the bullets in the magazines, and began firing wildly.

The bullets, guided by his magnetic control, curved through the air, striking the guards' vital points with near-sniper precision.

The rapid fire of the submachine guns combined with the accuracy of a sniper rifle—this was the trump card that gave him the confidence to come to their aid.

(End of Chapter)