Chapter Forty-Four: Fury

"Narcissus, it's your turn now."

Hearing Ferren's voice in her ear, Chris nodded, then adjusted her position and aimed at the street not far ahead. Through the scope, she could clearly see three armored personnel carriers racing madly forward like startled beasts, desperate to escape this perilous zone.

But unfortunately for them, they had no choice at all.

Through her scope, Chris could only watch as the APCs sped farther and farther from her position. At her current angle, it was impossible to see the drivers. Not that this mattered to Chris now.

"Lily, psychic resonance."

"Ah, yes, Narcissus!"

Startled by Chris's calm order, Corona didn't dare hesitate. She hurriedly shut her eyes, clasping her hands before her chest as if in prayer.

In the next instant, an invisible wave of psychic energy rippled outward from Corona. Chris felt the scene before her eyes waver, then return to normal. Yet now, Chris saw much more.

Inside the armored vehicles, vivid red silhouettes appeared—life signatures, as if revealed by an infrared detector. This was Corona’s new ability, gained after her psychic resonance evolved. She could sense and mark all living and non-living entities within her detection range, projecting these marks to her allies through the network. Now, she had shown these marks to Chris, helping her pinpoint her targets.

Chris's eyes widened slightly as she studied the crimson figures. Circles of light whirled into view within her pupils, pausing, locking on.

Chris squeezed the trigger.

The heavy, jet-black sniper rifle jolted sharply, yet emitted no sound. The bullet sliced through the night sky at incredible speed. Had anyone watched closely, they would have seen that the bullet, fired from the rifle, did not follow the laws of ballistics—instead, it darted toward its distant target like a nimble bird.

The thick armor of the transport was no defense against this lethal strike. The bullet, striking the rear door, did not ricochet or explode. Rather, like a droplet of water merging into a pond, it vanished without a trace, leaving behind only a finger-width hole in the heavy plating.

If someone were to replay the scene in slow motion, they would be startled to find that the hole had formed in the armor even before the bullet struck...

Death arrived in utter silence.

The whirling bullet bored into the temple of a soldier slumped by the door, scrambling half his brain before burrowing on, smashing into the back of a second man's head. It exited through his gaping mouth, penetrated the third soldier's ear, shattered his skull, then veered at a sharp ninety-degree angle to bury itself in the forehead of a fourth, who could only stare in paralyzed shock, unable even to react...

Through the scope, Chris watched as the once-racing APC suddenly began to lurch and sway like a drunken beast, then toppled off the embankment, rolling over and over. It struggled briefly, like a mortally wounded animal, and then lay still. Chris paid her results no mind. She simply reached out, quickly worked the bolt, and fixed her sights on another target. The spinning cursor reappeared in her gaze.

Meanwhile, on a hillside encampment beyond the ruins, tension hung in the air like an impending storm.

"Report: we have lost contact with the Iron Bull Assault Battalion."

A uniformed woman stood up and reported to a stern-faced Black officer not far behind her. At her words, the man frowned deeply.

"What happened? Where's Shrek?"

"We're not sure yet. We've tried calling the Iron Bull Battalion, but there’s been no response. We also tried to reach Commander Shrek, but..."

She hesitated, then continued.

"According to our records, it appears Commander Shrek’s unit was attacked. He chose to retreat. From his transmission, it seems the Iron Bull team was wiped out, and he was powerless against the enemy. He attempted to request support and report, but before he could finish, we lost contact..."

The man fell silent. This wasn’t before the cataclysm, when people still used radios—in this era, they communicated directly through the network. Losing contact mid-message was an ominous sign in itself. Even without further explanation, he understood what it meant.

"Did he say anything else?"

"Yes, he said... he’d been attacked, didn’t know the enemy’s numbers, but he was certain it was 'the Doctor'..."

"The Doctor..."

The man’s eyes flashed coldly at the mention of that name. He knew it well. As a Federal officer, he had never underestimated his adversaries. Especially the Seven Giants—even that traitor Fernando knew little of their true power. He only knew they were formidable, but their abilities remained a mystery. The Seven Giants rarely acted openly, and even when they did, it was nearly impossible to discern the true nature of their powers. No wonder—if they were so easily read, they’d have died in some dark alley long ago.

Yet Michael scoffed at the traitor’s tales. In his mind, Fernando exaggerated to hide his own incompetence and drive up his price. After all, the Federation had their own gifted operatives, and had encountered many such abilities. No matter how strong, these ability users were helpless against the full might of the army.

But...

"Are you certain he said 'the Doctor'?"

Michael asked again, scarcely able to believe it. If any of the other Seven Giants had bested Shrek, he could accept it. But the Doctor was different. According to the Federation’s intelligence and Fernando’s testimony, the Doctor was the only one among the Seven Giants who operated alone, without any organization behind him. How could he possibly wipe out an entire assault battalion?

"I'm sure."

"This is madness..."

Michael grew visibly agitated now. He ground his teeth, paced anxiously a few times, then looked up, resolve hardening his features.

"Mobilize the Second Armored Regiment. I’ll lead them myself. I want to see for myself what happened out there!"

"Sir?"

The woman was startled, but urgently tried to dissuade him.

"But—sir, the command center’s orders were for you to remain at headquarters, in case of enemy attacks..."

Michael’s expression flickered with indecision. He hesitated a moment, then slumped into a nearby chair in frustration.

"Fine, damn it, I’ll stay. But send a team to investigate—I must know what happened out there! Hm? What’s that?"

At that moment, Michael heard a faint sound. He turned and saw a black cat standing inside the tent, its wide eyes brimming with curiosity. The instant it noticed his gaze, it flicked its ears, then darted away so quickly it vanished in the blink of an eye.

"Damn it, what’s a cat doing in here?"