The SSS-rank Guide Doesn't Need Saving

Back in the present.

Aisha lowered the shuttle and dropped down to the ground.

She pulled up the map Nykos had given her and traced the route with her finger. The contaminated zone owned by the Susa Merchant Corp was located on the far western edge of the island, tucked behind rows of warehouses that looked abandoned from the outside.

It took her ten minutes on foot before she finally arrived near the entrance.

Though she had already expected it, Aisha still couldn’t help but frown. The entrance to the zone was disguised so well that anyone without the map would have walked right past it. It was actually built into the side of a warehouse, behind a rusted metal door. It looked unused and broken at first. But standing in front of it were five men.

They didn’t look like ordinary security guards, either. Their builds were thick with muscle earned not through superficial training, but through real battles. And the way they held their weapons told her they weren’t amateurs.

Murderous intent rolled off them in waves, making anyone who accidentally stumbled into this place turn around and walk away. Aisha could tell they would be ready to kill anyone who got too close to that door.

She watched them silently for a moment.

Waiting for the right time to strike.

Aisha stayed pressed against the shadowed corner of the warehouse, watching the five men circle their small patch of territory like dogs guarding a bone. She had counted their rotations twice already.

It wasn’t hard to learn how many steps it would take them to pace around the area or how long each man’s attention wandered before snapping back. Back in her previous world, hunters had the same rhythm they’d fall into right before their guard dropped completely.

Now, she just needed one of them to step away from the group.

”Hey,” one guard muttered to the lanky one beside him. ”You brought the cards with you?”

”Yeah, I got them in my—”

”No cards.” Their leader’s voice cut through the conversation, flat and final. ”Focus on the job. You’re not getting paid to gamble.”

A round of muffled groaning passed through the group, though none of them argued further.

The night dragged on, cold and uneventful. The five men felt their boredom growing and their patience wearing thin until one of them shifted his weight and grimaced.

”Need to piss, Boss.”

The leader waved him off without even glancing his way. The guard peeled away from the group and ambled toward the corner of the neighboring building, already thinking about the message he wanted to send his lover once he was done to fight off the boredom. He faced the wall, lowered his zipper, and felt the first signs of relief—

Something cold and light brushed against the back of his head. Fingers, ghostly and deliberate, pressed briefly against his scalp.

A voice, soft as breath, curled into his ear.

”You suddenly had the urge to kill the guards standing before that door in that warehouse.”

For one full second, the man didn’t react. His body froze mid-motion, his eyes staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

Then, a second later, he turned around as though nothing had happened.

He didn’t bother zipping up his pants. He walked back toward his colleagues with an oddly loose, unhurried gait, his exposed front swinging with every step.

”Oi, what happened to you?” one of the guards snorted, elbowing the man next to him. ”Did a bug bite your—hah, forget it. Did you see a ghost or something? Zip up, man!”

Laughter rippled through the group, easy and careless. They didn’t expect the man to return to their side with his pants down!

However, before their laughter could grow any louder, it died down the instant the man raised his Rail Emitter and pointed it at the head of the guard closest to him.

Bang!

He pulled the trigger almost without hesitation.

The sudden explosive crack of the shot was barely registered before the body hit the ground. His colleagues didn’t even have time to register their shock before the man turned toward them. He fired again and again.

One after another, the guards near the entrance of the zone they were protecting dropped, their hands frozen halfway toward their own weapons. But none of them had a chance to use them.

The fight was over before any of them understood what was happening.

When the last man collapsed, the shooter’s body went rigid. His eyes came back into focus, and something flickered in them.