Footsteps echoed through the sterile, metallic hallway of Mercury's Level Three division. A pale figure moved with quiet intensity—white hair falling over crimson eyes that never wavered. Zade Erlaro was on his way to yet another mission.
He entered the mission office without knocking. Rare Cornelia was already inside, lounging in a chair with one leg crossed over the other, arms folded, expression annoyed.
"Three missions in three days," Rare muttered, clearly irritated. "Are they trying to kill us or something?"
"Stop whining," Zade replied coolly. "Get up. We're leaving."
Rare sighed, dragging himself up. "You really don't know how to take it easy, do you?"
They exited the building and got into the transport car waiting outside. The vehicle hummed quietly as it sped through the outskirts of the city toward their destination—a suspected Merk nest.
The moment they arrived, Rare tensed. The area was unnervingly quiet.
"A little too quiet..." he said, reaching for his gun. Without warning, he fired a shot into the air.
The silence shattered. From the shadows, a swarm of Merks erupted, their grotesque forms writhing as they charged.
"Sound-drawn Merks," Zade noted calmly.
He drew his sword, mercury energy coursing through it. This wasn't just metal—it was Mercury, the life-linked power source few could wield. Zade was one of them. His blade pulsed as he activated his technique.
"Crimson Kills."
With a blur of speed, he tore through the first wave, cutting down multiple Merks in a single breath. Beside him, Rare fired rapid shots from his gun—crafted from mercury alloy, each bullet enhanced by the same volatile energy.
Then came the quake. Heavy footsteps. A massive Merk emerged, snarling with a jaw too wide for its body.
"A big one, huh?" Rare groaned. "Can't catch a break."
"This is our job," Zade said, tightening his grip on his sword. "We do it right."
Zade stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "You handle the rest. I've got this."
He whispered, almost inaudibly:
"Crimson Kills: Level Two—Direct Kill."
In a flash, he shot forward. One precise strike—and the beast was sliced clean in two.
"Done on my side!" Rare shouted, kicking the last Merk corpse aside.
Back at headquarters, the two were immediately summoned to the administrative wing. Inside, a commander stood grim-faced.
"The Merk Handlers have resurfaced."
Zade's eyes narrowed. Rare stiffened.
"The what now?" Rare muttered. "I thought we were done with those psychos."
"Apparently not," the commander said. "And this time, they're moving to take control."
The Merk Handlers—humans who had injected themselves with Merk blood, fusing their bodies with monster biology. Twisted, powerful, and nearly impossible to stop. Their last appearance nearly brought the country to collapse.
On their way out, they passed Merial, a Level Three exterminator like themselves. She was suited up and heading for a mission.
"Hey shorty!" Rare called out.
Merial rolled her eyes and yanked him down by the hair. "Freak off."
Then her voice dropped. "You heard, right? They're back."
Rare blinked. "No way. I thought the Supreme wiped them out."
"Guess we weren't thorough enough," Zade said, already walking past them.
"So cold..." Merial muttered. "Anyway, I've got work."
"Wait for me!" Rare called out, jogging after them.
Elsewhere...
In the dark, a figure stood watching. His grin widened, sharp teeth catching the moonlight.
"So... they've returned," he whispered. The smile twisted into a laugh.
"This is going to be fun."