There was once a hatchling,

  A newborn who woke up one day, cradled in the arms of a caretaker.

  He was brittle and prone to sensations.

  It would cry out loud when it was hit.

  It would scream and struggle if it felt uncomfortable.

  And it would even chuckle if it felt joy.

  It was then that the caretaker decided to give him his name.

  “Glass.”

  A fragile material used on various objects for different purposes. Frail and easily shattered, it was often used for transparency and ornaments.

  However, for the caretaker, it held a different meaning.

  “A reflection of oneself, an existence that reveals their bare emotions.”

  She lamented how the child would spend his life.

  As she watched in horror as the infant was dragged away to a conveyor belt, she herself had placed it. She wept for a while until that memory was soon forgotten, and the distant sounds of machine and gear swept the child’s ears.

  For what purpose it was,

  The child no longer remembers.

  As he grew older, he experienced being one of the spectators and manager of an ‘illegal’ gambling den in a district under the age of 15.

  He saw how putrid and full of malice the ‘citizens’ were as they watched two random thugs picked from the backstreets to fight one another for a ticket that would just grant them food for a day.

  It was disgusting, reeking of the scent of utter defloweration of their human psyche.

  He bit his lips and let it all wash away.

  But the hatred buried beneath his skin never faded.

  It bided its time, again and again.

  As he put the numbers of the bidding ‘up’ and ‘down’.

  So did his inner turmoil that resided in his heart.

  When he reached the age of 20, he became a fixer and garnered a bit of cash from his work and quit altogether.

  No one batted an eye at what he did; in fact, it was perfectly normal for one to leave.

  However, the journey of the child, who has now become a young man, wasn’t that easy.

  Payments, taxes, and unemployment.

  Without any documents to prove his origin, the young man was utterly rejected from ever finding a job.

  He spent his days drowning his life savings, as he explored districts as a vagrant and an immigrant.

  But then, as he arrived at the harbour of U Corp.

  He was able to accept a position that held remarkable terms and a fair share of payment.

  He worked for two years endlessly delivering packages here and there.

  Until eventually, he contacted the ‘waves’ of the great lake.

  The mermaids that devour and dismantle everything in their path.

  It was a moment he will never forget.

  Before he was swallowed by the mindless beast.

  A voice rang out from his view,

  That familiar figure with his cat-like eyes and boastful mouth.

  The child's voyage finally ended,

  While another sail hurled.

  …

  ‘No… This is not the time to be swallowed up by anger.’

  As my mind begins to calm down, I hold my arms tight as I analyse the creature of unknown origin in front of me.

  I kept my wits and rifle ready.

  Aware of how much it cost to fire this thing, I gently picked up a hatchet I hid within my buttocks.

  It was for emergency use in case I was alone and separated from the group.

  And right now, it was the time to act.

  —Swoosh!

  I swung my hatchet upon the creature, but it merely split itself, dodging it.

  —Screech!

  Then, using its appendages, it threw dozens of limbs covered in its fluid as if it were a spear.

  —Woosh

  —Whish!

  Its attack missed, as I swayed left and right.

  Using the limb reinforcements I took and the augments I requested, which the Middle kindly approved and gave to me.

  It gave me the upper hand in terms of mobility in this encounter.

  I dashed in through its side as I swung once more.

  However, it changed its directive; rather than striking me entirely, it shifted its focus to latching onto my blade.

  But I was well aware of that.

  Without hesitation, I took out a bullet and fired a shot upon the intersection of the hatchet and the thing's appendages.

  ‘If it has the same ‘merging’ ability as the mermaids. This would undeniably—’

  —SCREECH!!

  ‘-Lit it on fire.’

  Scorch began devouring the creature as it wailed horrifically.

  —-BEEP!

  Its intense screams echoed around the corner as it mixed with the blaring sound of the alarm.

  I covered my hatchet in a combustible product beforehand, though I wouldn't have expected it to deal this amount of damage.

  As the creature slowly disintegrated,

  I took a peek at what was once left of Kincho…

  A splattered remains with only the fabric of his clothes left.

  Not even a single bit of his ‘human’ form was left intact.

  ‘...Hah, I guess this is how life is.’

  I felt sadness but no remorse.

  We understood what it meant when we became a syndicate.

  We were told to bear no attachment to one another, especially if you wish to climb the ladder as a fixer.

  For a syndicate, it was even harsher.

  If you are disposed, then you are disposed.

  No one cares, and none will mourn for you.

  ‘Kincho… thanks for offering to help.’

  Shaking my thoughts, I hurriedly went and ran towards the entrance of the building to meet up with the others.

  I never once looked back, nor did I burn his remains.

  After all, there was no use in retrieving supplies tainted by an ambiguous substance.

  …

  “Tch… We lost contact with each other, but just presumed they were as good as dead.”

  Outside the ‘hotel’ Lafitte was staying, there were dozens of mangled entities as groves of them endlessly came from the alleyways of the city.

  Things were relatively calm ever since they arrived from this town, but after three days, it became like this. After midnight, when the clock ticked.

  Suddenly, an influx of these entities began sprouting from their windows, which prompted Lafitte’s group to get out and find the rest of his crew.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Where did they say they were in again? Ah, sheesh. I should've taken note of their location if it was gonna end up this way.”

  Lafitte sighed as he stepped over the corpse of the unknown entity.

  “Whew… if only those two brats were here… I mean, are they still alive? I doubt these puny anomalies can do a thing against them. They just have the strength akin to ‘sweepers’ or thugs, it ain't that much of a big deal.”

  “Damn it… Damn it… I don't want to die this way!”

  Then, in the corner of his eye, he saw a member of his fleet fall in panic.

  “Oi, knock it off. Can any of you snap this man out of his shock? It ain't like the first time we dealt with these sorts of things.”

  Lafitte clicked his tongue; it was just mere days yet so far.

  His estimated personnel was reduced from 51 to just 11, not counting the other crew he sent, as their situation was relatively unknown.

  For a captain, it was an issue of their capability.

  But as a person, it was just an average casualty.

  All he could do from here on was hope that things didn't get even worse from here.

  “...Come on, let's move. If we stay here, I doubt we'll be able to protect ourselves from the ambush of these things.”

  —Crack!

  Lafitte crushed one of the entities’ broken appendages as he casually strolled over them.

  ‘I wonder how these things might be worth within the market.’

  Despite the looming dangers, Lafitte can only think of ways to make ‘profit’.

  …

  “Hans, are you okay? Where are the others?”

  “Oh, Mister. Well, we fended off some of the anomalies on the way, and we finally met with Ms Trey and the others.”

  “Good, let's head to where they are.”

  I eventually reached Hans and the remaining of the recruits as we made our way outside.

  It was dark and gloomy.

  All establishments had their light turned off.

  As if the residents here were aware of their ‘presence’.

  So far, we have no clue as to what they are.

  But clueless pondering will get us nowhere, and so I made my way to Trey and her crew.

  Hans anxiously murmured the location of this ‘safezone’ that they were in.

  Though, in the end, it was just an alleyway filled with the stench corpse of the same tar-covered entities.

  “...Oh, Glass, huh?”

  There I saw the silhouette of a one-eyed hag who held a cigar up her mouth.

  “...I thought you'd quit smoking? What's the occasion?”

  “What's the… occasion, Y'say? For fuck sake, Glass. Can't you see how we're deep in this shit right now? If only I had joined the Middle… Tch, no use in getting mad now, I made this choice… —Tic —Tic. Ah fuck, this thing wouldn't even light.”

  “Here, take this.”

  I threw a bullet right at Trey, who was struggling to start a fire with her lighter.

  “What the hell y'want me to do with this?”

  “Take out the gunpowder from there and put it in your lighter. It's not like you have forgotten how to do a simple thing, aren’t you?”

  “Of course, I know, you cunt.”

  Despite her harsh words, it was the only thing for Trey to cope with the loss of her comrades.

  Within ‘The City’, losing a fellow or two is common for each contract or mission done by a group of fixers.

  Sentimentality often gets in the way and can sometimes be redundant in accomplishing duties.

  So, in many cases.

  Others use other ways to get rid of it.

  One of the ‘normal’ ways is to be cold-hearted, not to become inhumane. But to be prepared and dull your emotions in the midst of life and death.

  After all, survival is a must.

  I fall into this category, albeit it is slightly worse compared to Lafitte.

  However, for the latter.

  They use ‘products’ to artificially transpose their feelings. Some are completely illegal, and the substances vary, which are used as a final nail in the coffin for those who cannot stomach the burden of guilt.

  Sadly, Trey was one of those who abused those substances.

  One of its side effects, however, was the emotion being driven to another pile of turbulent emotions.

  If deep sorrow is what consumes you, then it'll subside into a burrowing hatred that repels others from you.

  And that's why I cannot confront her seriously at all.

  Judging from the remaining people in her crew, it seems only five of them survived.

  While for us, what remained were six.

  Overall, our numbers total eleven, half of which being recruits.

  It was overwhelming to say that we are already at the brink of death, but…

  Right now, without Trey capable of leading command, the other veterans were just simply foot soldiers who already lost their morale.

  There has to be ‘one’ to make a decision.

  ‘Hah… Ain't this, quite the suffering you gave me, Captain…’

  Knowing there is no one else I can rely on, I had to make a move.

  “Alright… Listen up, all of you. We can't just sully here and accept our fate as is.”

  “ “...!?” “

  As others heard my voice, they all turned their gaze towards me.

  It gave off quite the pressure, but I did not hesitate.

  “I memorised the routes leading up to the Captain's lodging. Though I'm sure the passage to get there isn't going to be easy. But if we make it there. Our chance to survive would marginally go up.”

  “What makes you certain of that? —Puff.”

  “...? You said something, Ms Trey?”

  “Do you really think that greedy bastard will care for us, no, for you? I doubt he had planned this all along, but he probably abandoned us ages ago.”

  Is she high?

  “Didn't we hold a discussion just hours ago? How can you be sure he fled away? Don't we still have something to do? We haven't even reached our objective yet.”

  “...How naive of you, brat. It's funny how you put your pedestal up that man's ass that you've become his little kitty cat. —Puff. To wag your tail to someone blindly, how are you any different from a slave?”

  “...I don't appreciate that tone of yours, Trey. If you want to die here, then feel free to stay here and hide away until those things munch you alive.”

  I took a step forward, as I declared with my eyes staring down.

  While Trey mockingly gazes back.

  “However, I want to live. Even if it means making a deal with any shady company or corporation, there is. I'll make amends to what I will do just to survive.”

  “Ho, did you grow some balls when we weren't watching? Keep in mind that you have long since been demoted from your title as the left hand of the fleet.”

  “Yes, but please remember as well, Ms Trey. We are no longer the ‘syndicate’ we used to be.”

  “Yeah… I know.”

  “That's why please cooperate and—”

  —Thunk!

  “...!?”

  Suddenly, a spear came flying upon my head.

  “Listen now, brat. You don't even know who that fucker really is; that guy is a survivor of the ‘smoke war. Although I was young back then, his mannerisms and swordplay were familiar. It reminded me of those bastards from the thumb basking in glory, while covered in pest and filth as they slaughtered everyone in L Corp’s fallen streets.”

  With barely any time to respond, I blocked the attack using the stock of my rifle, deflecting it away from my head but striking my right arm in exchange.

  What was surprising was a revelation of something I wasn't supposed to know.

  ‘Smoke war? Lafitte was in it?’

  “...Urgh!?”

  “That time when my family died due to the harsh smoke emitted by L. Corp back then… I swore back then I would live a stable life… Until that time occurred.”

  The Smoke War.

  A massive corporate war that took place in L. Corp’s district five years ago.

  It became one of the city’s greatest catastrophic conflicts as dozens of nests fought for their own ambitions.

  With various singularities and funding, the war caused a ton of casualties and bloodshed.

  The result of the war is the devastating collapse of the Old L. Corp and G. Corp.

  Although they were soon easily replaced.

  The aftermath left a severe lasting impact on those affected.

  Especially… The ones affected by the smoke…

  “Urgh…!”

  Trey relentlessly released a flurry of strikes as I proceeded to swerve each of her attacks thanks to my enhanced body parts.

  “Those augments I suggested did come in handy, didn't they? Also, don't forget that you still owe me for the ampule I gave you… If only I had some in my spare, I could've saved some of them… especially her.”

  It took me a while to render everything that occurred.

  But judging from Trey's words and actions, this was by no means an accident.

  “You… Trey. Is this what you want? Fine, let's settle it this way.”

  “...If this is how I can die. Then it's far better than dying by those things.”

  She sounds extremely crazy.

  Whenever it is the effect of her cigar abuse or just pure trauma.

  I cannot help but fight with the intent to survive.

  I grabbed my hatchet from behind, as I positioned myself in a wide stance.

  My body was in a firm posture, and at a distance that could counter any blow coming from her spear.

  I assessed my current skills against hers, those of someone who is called Lafitte's right-hand man.

  I figured it was impossible to gauge it accurately.

  “...Here I come.”

  With those words, and her cigar dropping down.

  In a fleeting moment, her figure disappeared.

  ‘Where did she–?’

  Then a piercing pain rang through my left stomach.

  —Pop!

  “ACK!?”

  The sharp tip of her spear lodged itself below my ribs, thankfully it didn't puncture a vital organ.

  —Ka-Chik!

  Then, the handle of the spear, which Trey held slowly, disassembled as it formed a short dagger, while the upper base, where the tip resides, became a sword.

  It was a strange weaponry function that Trey had ordered for her style of fighting.

  Derived from U Corp's ‘Resonance Tuning Fork’ singularity, which could merge things into one.

  Her weapon was the derivative made by a workshop approved by the Tres Association who oversees the production of weapons and other items for combat.

  As she aimed for another blow, right to my neck.

  I swung my hatchet downwards as she tucked back while retrieving her other weapon, causing my body to bleed

  “...Even now, I still can't get used to it.”

  “Don't be afraid now, this is just… a mere result of your insubordination!”

  “Hey, both of you, stop! What the hell are you guys doing? At this rate, both of you will die before those things come—”

  “Be quiet, kid, this is just how we settle things in the Backstreets.”

  “She's right, get out of here, Hans. This is how one repays someone's debt in the backstreets.”

  “But… we're from the outskirts—”

  Trey and I exchanged glances. She was aware that the more I spend time idling, the greater my chance of fainting due to bleeding.

  And so, both she and I made our move.

  In this alleyway filled with nothing but a mess, I kicked one of the appendages from the dead entities to her.

  —Skink!

  She sliced through it easily, like cutting butter with a knife.

  She then closed the distance between her and me, to which I propelled myself closer while swinging the hatchet horizontally.

  —Swish!

  Trey immediately saw the motion of my attack as she dodged it by flipping herself upwards and aimed her sword at my eye.

  —Fwoosh!

  I bent my back just in time for the attack to miss, as I pivoted my body behind me.

  I eagerly anticipated her landing.

  But,

  —Tang!

  She gripped her dagger backwards to parry the edge of my blade and swung her sword towards my neck.

  My eyes widened as I wasn't prepared for her surprise.

  And then, it clicked with me.

  My life flashed before my eyes,

  I can feel a languid hand touching my neck.

  To me, it felt like a bliss to be free and severed from this world full of suffering.

  However,

  In ‘The City’.

  There is no such thing as a humble ‘death.’

  It was just an acceptance of a surrender to this world.

  Similar to those who want to run away from reality, I was also succumbing to the feeling of those people who drown themselves in pleasure.

  These…

  Serene feelings that I abhor.

  ‘Get it out. Get it out. Get it out.’

  My thoughts spiral towards an unknown thread,

  My vision flickers as I feel my heart tightening.

  This picture of rejecting those humble emotions.

  I felt like puking up…

  —Stab!

  “...You!”

  “Ah…”

  One of my hands that gripped the hatchet freed itself as it blocked the strike of the blade that was aiming for my neck.

  An intense feeling surged within my body as I unconsciously turned my body and launched a roundhouse kick on Trey that sent her flying.

  However, like a feral beast.

  My body, which was collapsing, still followed my senses as I lunged towards her.

  Trey was in a state of discomfort as she had no time to react and simply stared at me in shock

  I held my hatchet up high,

  Designating where to cut and where to end it.

  My body was irrationally calm and,

  But then they whispered.

  ‘Do it, cut it, split her apart, right there!’

  I can hear the voices uttering their condensed suggestion.

  Despite being free from that den, their haughty and irritating speeches still dwelled in my mind.

  A burning feeling rang across my heart.

  —Shwoo!

  As I swung my weapon downwards with force,

  I heard the sounds of steel clamour.

  —Clang!

  ‘...!?’

  Trey was still able to—?

  Then I stopped.

  My heart dropped almost for a minute.

  There, standing in our way, he clashed my hatchet with his rapier as he gave an icy stare that made both Trey and me shiver.

  Lafitte's vertical slit eyes that peers to your soul.

  His eyes held a cold glare that scratches the first layer of your skin.

  He looked at us with sheer anger and uttered.

  “What are you guys doing?”

  It wasn't provocative nor aggressive.

  It was a simple question.

  But the weight surrounding it made everyone suffocate.

  “I waited for a response. I was aware that the transponder wasn't working. But, I had trust in both of you to do your task and report to me— Now, this reminded me of someone's words…”

  “I was once questioned by Ardith as to why I made both of you my dedicated ‘hands’. I proudly remarked, ‘It's because those fools wouldn't dare make a mistake underneath my command.’ I was confident in my decision that she scrubbed it off, saying, ‘What a rowdy mistake.’ Or so it seemed.”

  “But… Here I was, with both of you, proving my confidence and pride in that speech was a mistake. I ordered both of you a simple task, which is to collect information and deliver it to me…”

  As Lafitte continued his sermon, a creature spotted them in the alleyway and ignored the others as it went for Lafitte himself.

  But—

  —Pierce!

  —Burst!

  A singular stab made the entity bloat out and erupt into dozens of pieces.

  The atmosphere turned cold as none of the crew ever moved nor spoke.

  “Yet, both of you failed, and even caught yourself in a squabble like mere children… I guess I was way too lenient with most of you. This fault must've been mine for being way too easy, huh.”

  In a flash, Lafitte swung his rapier once more.

  —Schwing

  —Shing!

  “...Augh!?”

  “...Ack, my… eye!”

  His blade badly slashed apart Trey's left ear and my right eye.

  “Trey, Insubordination. Glass, Insubordination.”

  A few words, but with that sort of tone.

  I knew what it meant.

  “Most of you who can move, patch yourselves. Take what you need from the supplies handed to us. To others who need assistance, wait for someone to help you up. Anyone who dares oppose these rulings, wait for my blade to dictate which part of yours I should sever.”

  Lafitte then gave his final instructions.

  “As of today, we are no longer ‘Campeche’ as you've always known. You are nothing more than my subordinates, do you hear me? Do as I will and try your best not to disregard my orders.”

  Without anyone striking back, he went against his rules and mimicked those whom he despised.

  The authority that came from ruling with fear.

  Lafitte declared his tyranny and returned to his ambiguous roots.