"Why do you ask?"
"Because I remember seeing something similar."
David, sensing Osian's questioning momentum, said in a calm tone.
"Whoa. Calm down. I don't know what you're misunderstanding, but I'm not who you think I am."
"How do you know that?"
"When you've been in this business long enough, you start to notice things that stretch even when you don't want to. You, I assume, have been involved in a fight with someone who deals with automatons similar to the ones I deal with?"
Osian nodded slowly.
"I see. It's understandable that you would think I use something similar, and that I'm related to them."
"You aren’t?"
"Unless you're very mistaken, the automaton I'm dealing with and yours are probably made by the same company.""Same company?"
"There are two main companies that make automatons. Antique Tech, one of Tirna's larger companies and the other is Battle Trench."
"Given the name, I'm guessing it's the latter that you're using."
"That's right. Antique Tech builds automatons to provide labor for everyday needs, and Battle Trench builds automatons for combat."
With that, David jerked his thumb at the automatons lined up on either side of him.
"These two are Ronald and Reginald. They're Grade 2 automatons from the Battle Trench Company, and they're pretty expensive."
"I see."
"Naturally, Battle Trench makes a lot of big, strong guys like these, and I'm guessing that the guy who fought you was also made by Battle Trench. They're made by the same company, so they're probably similar in size."
"So, do your automatons have exploding arms or something?"
David's expression hardened slightly as Osian asked, remembering what he'd seen that day.
"An exploding arm?"
"It was cut off, and then somehow it exploded, scattering shrapnel."
"......I think I have a hunch about that. Anything with that kind of capability is Class 1. No, more like a special class that leaves no evidence."
"Is it common for people to use something like that?"
"Not that common but not completely absent, though."
As he said that, David pulled his pocket watch out of his breast pocket and checked the time.
"Well, well. We're running late. Time to get moving. More on that later."
Osian agreed with David, since he had come for a request, for now.
At least it was confirmed that David was not connected to the men he knew.
"Now, then, I think everyone who was supposed to come is here, and we can get on with the business at hand."
David asked after the initial commotion had subsided, and everyone rose to their feet and grabbed their weapons.
Gunslinger Kid's elimination was a surprise, but in a way, it was a good thing, because now everyone would get what they deserved.
If anything, he was the problem.
Most of them glanced over and squinted at Osian.
He'd toyed with Kid with invisibly quick stabs.
Besides, from what David had said, he was obviously quite capable.
‘I haven't heard his name before, so is he a rookie?’
‘He's a rookie, and he's that good. The world is so unfair.’
Kid's share of the money coming in was too good to be true.
A man of Osian's caliber could easily take out a gang with a knife, and that would mean less money going to them.
Leaving the factory, the group of mercenaries and fixers set their sights on the power plant in the distance.
There was no set plan.
There was no way that a group of faces that had seen each other for the first time in a long time would be able to work together.
Besides, if they did, they'd have to decide how they'd split the profits and who would take the risky front line.
They'd end up fighting amongst themselves before they even started.
What they need is someone with a strong voice.
"Well, I'm not going to tell you to follow my orders now. We don't know what's going to happen in the field anyway."
David's direction was for everyone to act individually, but to provide support in times of crisis.
The group nodded, agreeing that it made the most sense.
After all, they're a ragtag gang.
Although they are united and have a large number, they are not few either and they're better at fighting than the gangs.
Some of them can single-handedly wipe out a small gang, so if a fight breaks out, the gang won't last long.
"I'll assume you've agreed and move on."
I was planning to finish the job quickly and collect my reward.
In a narrow alleyway, a hidden gang that had been preparing in advance began firing pistols.
-Tat-tat-tat!
"Hostiles up ahead!"
"Take cover!"
It was a surprise attack, but no one in the room panicked, and they moved in unison.
The burly mercenary at the head of the line pulled out the shield on his back and held it up in front of him.
The plates spread out to either side of him, providing excellent cover.
It was a portable cover for gunfights.
‘Oh. They have one of those.’
Osian watched the scene from a distance.
The mercenaries ducked behind cover and calmly fired back.
The gangsters, armed at best with cheap pistols and sniper rifles, were no match for the fully armed mercenaries.
As a few of the gangsters fell to the ground in a spray of blood, the rest turned and fled.
"No big deal."
"Isn't it too easy?"
The mercenaries chuckled to each other, retrieved the cover they had set up, and started moving again.
The fight in the other alley was similar.
"Ronald. Reginald."
David ordered, and the two Automatons strode to stand in front of him.
The gang members fired at the automatons, but the bullets bounced off their hard skin and ricocheted helplessly.
"Shoot him."
-Tut-tut-tut-tut!
The two Automatons under David's command raised their Tommy guns with both hands and fired at the gang.
Bullet-immune and fearless, the automatons were to the gang the Grim Reaper from Hell.
Mutant Jonathan Lunsell would not stand still.
"Khaab!"
He roared, and his flesh-colored skin turned to a ghastly black.
Now covered in steel, Jonathan launched himself at the gangsters, charging at them.
The gangsters were surprised and opened fire, but Jonathan didn't flinch.
He lunged and slammed his shoulder into a gang member, who bounced away.
"You son of a bitch!"
One of the taller gang members pulled a knife from his waistband and stabbed Jonathan in the side.
The dagger broke without making a single gash in Jonathan's skin.
"Uh, huh?"
The gangsters looked at the broken dagger and then fell to the ground from Jonathan's fist.
Jonathan charged like a raging bull, smashing through cover and throwing gang members to the ground.
Osian watched the scene from a distance, arms crossed.
'This is why it's so hard for me to get involved.’
For the most part, the fight consisted of exchanging bullets from cover.
Jonathan was the only one to get in close, but only because he didn't mind taking a bullet.
The mercenaries behind him were also firing indiscriminately, not caring if he got shot.
In fact, Jonathan was hit in the back of the head by a bullet, but it didn't seem to hurt him.
‘If you want to get in on the action, I can't stop you.’
It was then.
"Look out!"
Someone shouted, and a second-story window in the alleyway rattled open, revealing the gangster's upper bodies.
An ambush.
The gangsters pointed their shotguns at the mercenaries passing beneath them.
"Dig in, assholes!"
With a murderous shout, the gangster pulled the trigger.
Immediately, a white flash of light sliced through the upper half of the gangster, along with the gun.
The gun snapped in half, and the gangster dropped to the ground in a spray of blood.
The near-death mercenaries' gazes turned to the source of the flash.
"Nothing much."
There, Osian could be seen with a sword sheathed in his waistband.
With a single stroke, he'd foiled the momentary ambush.
‘You can do this with one sword?’
‘How did he cover the distance?’
The mercenaries and fixers around him stared in disbelief.
"Fuck!"
"Everybody run!"
The gangsters decided it was no longer a fight and fled back to the power plant.
The mercenaries didn't bother chasing after them. They were like rats in poison anyway.
“Move.”
The mercenaries signaled to each other and moved in unison.
Soon the narrow streets disappeared, revealing a wide open space.
There was nowhere to take cover and they would be pinned down by bullets, but that didn't matter to those with portable cover.
The mercenaries began to move slowly, pushing through the cover.
The power plant was blocked off at the entrance by a pile of scrap metal that the gang had piled up for a barricade, but to the mercenaries it was nothing.
Contrary to what they thought would be a disruption, the gangsters no longer showed up.
"Looks like no one's here."
"That's what happens with crappy gangs. I'm guessing they realized they had no chance and split up, so it's easier for us."
"Stay focused. Our job isn't done yet."
The mercenary captain said to his team but despite his words, he was actually quite relieved that things were going well.
It had been a long time since he received a group request, and the people he'd assembled were quite formidable, so he'd expected to take some risks.
Contrary to his worries, it was worth it.
No, it was more than that, it was like taking money for nothing.
The faces of the other fixers and mercenaries lit up.
It was then that Osian lifted his head and looked up into the air.
His expressionless face hardened, if only slightly.
"Hey, man. Why are you suddenly.......?"
David was puzzled by the scene and was about to ask.
Thump───!!!
Something landed in the center of the group of 40 people moving at a certain distance.
The ground rumbled with a huge impact and a cloud of dust rose.
"What, what!"
"Is it an attack?!"
They suddenly thought a bomb had fallen, but it wasn't.
The dust settled to reveal a human form and everyone froze, unable to assess the situation.
In the silence that followed, the person at the center of the crater slowly raised his lowered torso.
A gas mask completely obscured his face, a hose leading to the corner of his mouth, tucked into a gap in his brown, ragged poncho.
Leather boots, cotton pants, and bandages on both arms.
It had the look of a mercenary in the midst of a fierce battle, and it had appeared so suddenly.
"Shoot!"
The mercenaries were quick to react.
They realized that this unexpected visitor was definitely not an ally.
The mercenaries near the stranger quickly pointed their guns at him and pulled the trigger.
David, seeing the situation in hindsight, shouted.
"No! Everybody get out of here!"
But his shout was drowned out by loud gunfire.
The bullets were flying, about to hit the man in the gas mask.
The man's left arm moved slightly, and blue electricity flashed around him.
The flying bullets stopped in midair, as if blocked by an invisible wall.
Huh?
The mercenaries who fired the shots were dumbfounded.
"What the hell......."
And that became their last words.
The man in the gas mask stretched out his left arm, and the bullets that had been stopped returned to the mercenaries.
The mercenaries collapsed in a spray of blood.
In a matter of seconds, ten men had been killed.
The bandage on the raider's left arm ripped open, revealing its contents.
It was a mechanical arm, too sophisticated to be made of metal.
Shot in the shoulder, the mercenary captain, who had barely survived, called out in a shaky voice.
"Te, Tesla Arms!"
Immediately, a bolt of blue lightning erupted from the enemy's left arm, sending sparks flying everywhere.