Huff!
"It really worked..."
His breathing was ragged. He had used up all the strength and energy left in him. During the struggle, his hands had been slashed open with fresh wounds. But this pain, this, he could still handle.
It was a lot better than dying confused and cornered.
Calming his breath and regaining his composure, he looked down at the corpse lying at his feet.
His first ever kill.
His first ever murder.
From what he believed or heard from all those TV dramas and movies, he expected to feel something. Guilt. Shock. Maybe even a mental breakdown.
They all feel that way after their first murder right?
Surprisingly… he felt nothing.
No PTSD. No shaking hands. No remorse.
Honestly, that was a good thing. Especially considering the situation.
The man he'd just killed was one of the patrolling soldiers from the opposing faction. Knowing there was no conventional way out, he had to take a gamble.
He had to kill one of them and steal their uniform.
Even though Lady of Luck rarely smiled on him, she still occasionally acknowledged determination.
And thus no way out, cornered an observation lead to a possible plan...
After watching carefully for a while, he noticed the patrolling soldiers approaching alone, and maintaining considerable distance from each other.
As for their strength… he had no way to gauge that. But it was a risk he had to take, regardless.
Resolving himself, he waited patiently, buried in a heap of corpses. Then, when one soldier let his guard down, he struck.
A sneak attack from behind.
"So even these superhumans die if their necks are crushed, huh?" he muttered, a grin creeping across his lips.
Without wasting a second, he dragged the body into the corpse pile.
Time was critical now. He had to change into the soldier's gear and put on the mask before anyone noticed something was off.
Controlling his breathing, he quickly swapped clothes. But as he took off the soldier's mask, he flinched in disgust.
The face beneath was completely dislocated and twisted.
"What an ugly bastard... is that why he wore a mask?"
Coincidentally or maybe fortunately, the soldier's body build matched his own. Both stood around six feet tall, with jet black hair.
Before finally stepping into the sunlight, he steadied himself. He calmed his anxious heart and normalized his breathing.
He knew that to successfully cook a situation like this, the main ingredient was confidence.
Confidence strong enough to make anyone suspicious of him start doubting themselves instead.
With everything ready, he walked forward hands behind his back, his posture arrogant, almost like someone looking down on the heavens. Exactly how that soldier, now dead, had walked before.
Soon, other soldiers came into view. Some were casually chatting among themselves, while others blatantly stared at him.
'Are they his friends? Shit… are they suspicious of me?'
He panicked for a moment, but the answer came quicker than expected.
"Enric, what took you so long? We've been waiting, you know," one of them said, frowning with frustration.
'Oh—they're not suspicious. Great!'
Pulling himself together, he approached them, placing his hand on his throat.
He had already thought of what to do in case someone questioned him.
Off course soldier's and his voice were very different, and he couldn't just act like mute that would be really suspicious, And so this was the best idea he could come up with.
"Actually… there was someone alive in that pile, and he tried to choke me out," he said, his voice hoarse, as if even speaking caused him pain. Though not a actor by profession, his expression matched, perfectly strained.
It was the most natural performance he could possibly deliver.
"What happen tell me did that bastard run away? You rest here I will take care of him," One of them burst out, shocked and clearly concerned.
But he quickly gestured his hand and shook his head.
"Don't worry, He was already on death's door. One hit from me, and he dropped dead."
"Ohh! That's a relief," one of them replied quickly.
"Now that our shift is over, let's head out."
"Hey, shouldn't we report first?"
"Not necessary. The problem's already been taken care of, and that bastard was pretty much dead anyway."
"Well, if you say so..."
After a short discussion, they reached the conclusion he had been hoping for—they were leaving.
They walked toward the checkpoint. Following behind the others, he placed the stolen ID on the scanner. A moment later, the machine flashed green, and the gate opened.
The very moment he stepped out...
Ding!
[Quest Successfully Completed!]
[Loading rewards...]
A wave of relief washed over him.
Yes. He had made it out and have escaped danger. At least for now, that is.
As for the rewards? He could just check those later, when he was alone and safe.
Now the issue was... where to go.
That problem solved itself too, as one of the soldiers spoke up, stretching his arms.
"All though we stop by bar everytime after the shift, today I'm tired as hell. So let's just head home. We'll meet tomorrow—we've got the day off anyway."
Everyone agreed without hesitation.
'Why is everything going so smoothly?'
That thought lingered in the back of his mind, alarmed by a clear bad omen, he knew if its sailing too smoothly 9 out of the 10 times you are just about to get fucked. But he shelved it for later. For now, he pulled out the ID he had stolen.
As expected, there was an address.
"For the time being, that'll be my home," he muttered under his breath, quiet enough that no one could hear.
But then—
"Enric!"
"Ahh—Yes??" He flinched, slightly tensed up, his body subconsciously preparing to run.
A dozen questions shot through his mind in an instant:
Why did he call me specifically?
Did he find out?
Am I exposed?
But then the man waved a key at him and said, "I'm heading the same way. You want a ride?"
'Ohhh... he was just offering a ride.'
That's a relief.
He exhaled quietly, letting the tension drain from his shoulders. They weren't suspicious at least not yet so he could keep this act going a little longer.
Without any hesitation, he replied, "Yeah, sure."
It was risky, sure, but he had plenty of reasons to accept. First off, he had no idea what currency this world used, getting a taxi or any kind of transport on his own might blow his cover. Second, the guy's body language made it clear he expected an obvious yes. And really, who says no to a free ride without sounding sketchy?