As soon as Ayesha slipped out of Sedona City, Mina appeared in the guard station, her presence commanding attention. She stood before a group of patrol officers, War Wolf recruits, and elf snipers, her piercing blue eyes scanning the room with unwavering authority. The air was thick with tension, the weight of the impending mission settling over the assembled forces like a storm cloud.
"This operation must be swift and precise. Not a single one of them gets away," Mina declared, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. "Anyone who resists—kill them."
"Yes, ma'am!" The group responded in unison, their voices low but resolute, echoing through the dimly lit room.
"Move out," Mina ordered, her hand slicing through the air with finality. She gave a curt nod to Ryan, who stood at her side. This was a joint operation between the Guard Division and the Security Division, and Mina was in full command, her leadership unquestioned.
Tap tap tap…
Over a hundred operatives, led by Mina's Security Division, surged toward the hideouts of the slave traders lurking in Sedona City. The elf snipers paired up in twos, moving in sync with the patrol officers and War Wolf recruits. Their footsteps echoed through the streets, a quiet but relentless rhythm of purpose as they fanned out across the city, guided by precise intelligence.
Gary, a seasoned patrol officer, led a team of five patrol officers, seven War Wolf recruits, and two elf snipers, following an intelligence operative through the winding alleys. They soon arrived at a rundown residential district, a cluster of cheap rental apartments where the air smelled of damp wood and neglect. Leaving a few guards to secure the entrance, the rest of the team poured into the complex, their movements swift and silent.
Gary's team crept toward a specific building, their boots barely making a sound on the cracked stone path. The intelligence operative pointed to a second-floor apartment, his voice hushed but urgent. "Six of them are in there."
"Got it," Gary replied, nodding sharply. His heart pounded with anticipation as he drew his sword with one hand and gripped a small round shield with the other. This was his chance to shine, to prove himself in the heat of battle. With a determined glint in his eye, he led the charge up the stairs, his team close behind.
"Move," He whispered to the two elf snipers, who peeled off toward a neighboring building. They sprinted up to its rooftop, positioning themselves with clear sightlines to the target apartment's door. With practiced precision, they notched their arrows, their bows steady as they aimed at the entrance.
Gary reached the apartment door, signaling to the patrol officers flanking it. With a deep breath, he raised his leg and delivered a powerful kick to the door's lock.
Bang!
The door flew open with a thunderous crash, splinters flying as it slammed against the wall. Gary raised his shield and charged inside, his senses razor-sharp. A gust of wind whistled past his ear, followed by a sharp thud.
Swish…
Before him, a slaver wielding a short knife crumpled to the floor, an arrow lodged in his throat, its fletching still quivering. Gary's heart skipped a beat, a chill running down his spine at the sniper's deadly accuracy, but there was no time to dwell on it.
"Ha!" Gary roared, shaking off the moment's hesitation. He deflected a dagger thrust with his shield, the metal clanging loudly, and swung his sword in a swift arc. The blade sliced through the air, cutting down another slaver with ruthless efficiency.
"Get down! Hands on your heads!" The patrol officers shouted as they stormed in behind him, each armed with a shield and sword. Their voices boomed in the cramped apartment, a six-person rental barely large enough to contain the chaos. The slavers, caught off guard and outmatched by the fully armed patrol, stood little chance.
In moments, the fight was over. Three slavers lay dead, two were wounded, and one surrendered, cowering with his hands raised. The first hideout had been neutralized flawlessly.
Gary scanned the room, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. "Secure the scene," He ordered two patrol officers. "Search everything. Take anything suspicious."
"Yes, sir," They replied, moving to carry out his orders.
Gary exhaled heavily, his eyes lingering on the slaver felled by the sniper's arrow, the blood pooling beneath him. Stepping outside, he glanced up at the rooftop across the street, where the two elf snipers waved at him, their silhouettes stark against the night sky.
"Impressive," Gary muttered, raising his hand to signal the mission's success.
Creak!
The door to a neighboring apartment opened, and Gaba stepped out, her eyes wide with confusion as she took in the scene. She had been roused by the commotion, her curiosity overriding her caution.
"We're conducting an operation. Sorry for disturbing you," Gary said quickly, his tone apologetic as he adjusted his grip on his sword.
"No, no, I was the one being nosy," Gaba replied, shaking her head. Her gaze flicked to the target apartment, where a trickle of blood seeped out from under the door. Her heart lurched, but she quickly averted her eyes and shut her door, retreating inside.
Huff…
Inside her apartment, Gaba leaned against the door, her mind racing. Who were those people next door? She hadn't paid much attention to them, only knowing the apartment had been rented out a couple of weeks ago. The sight of blood unnerved her, stirring a sense of unease about the neighborhood's safety.
"Sis, what's going on?" Emma's soft, worried voice came from inside the room.
"It's the patrol handling something. Probably some troublemakers next door," Gaba said quickly, avoiding mention of the blood to spare her sister's nerves.
"What did they do? It sounded like they broke the door down," Emma said, her brown eyes wide with concern.
"Must be something serious, or they wouldn't have gone that far," Gaba replied, sitting on the bed and pulling Emma into a comforting hug. "Tomorrow's payday. Let's move to a better place, somewhere quieter."
"Huh? But won't a new place be expensive?" Emma asked, her voice tinged with surprise.
"It won't cost much more, and it'll be safer, less noisy. This area's too chaotic, with all sorts of people coming and going," Gaba explained, her tone gentle but firm.
"Okay…" Emma nodded, trusting her sister's judgment.
"Get some sleep. Tomorrow, I'll take you shopping," Gaba said with a warm smile, hoping to ease her sister's worries.
"Yay!" Emma replied, her face lighting up with anticipation.
---
Meanwhile, Mina and Eliza moved swiftly toward the inn where Manager Hank was holed up. This was the primary target, the linchpin of the slavers' operation, and both women were determined to bring him down.
Inside the inn, Manager Hank listened to his subordinate's report, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Ayesha has left the city, and most of our people are tailing her."
"Excellent," Hank replied, his voice smooth with satisfaction. "Tomorrow, spread the rumors wider. Take something from Ayesha's belongings and deliver it to the castle. Let's pile more pressure on those beastkin."
"Yes, lord!" The subordinate replied, bowing respectfully.
"Who are you? What do you want?" A sharp cry rang out from outside, followed by a cacophony of shouts and footsteps. Hank's heart skipped a beat, his smug expression faltering as a sense of dread crept over him.
Bang!
The door exploded inward, and Mina charged into the room like a storm. A slaver lunged to intercept her, but her dagger flashed, slicing a crimson arc across his throat. Blood sprayed as he collapsed, and before Hank could react, the cold edge of Mina's blade rested against his neck.
Gulp.
Hank's eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. Behind Mina, two of his men crumpled to the floor, dead in an instant. Fear gripped him, his mind racing with the realization of how quickly his plans had unraveled.
"M-Miss Mina, what's this about? Have I done something wrong? I'm just a humble linen merchant!" Hank stammered, his voice trembling with desperation.
"Shut up," Mina snapped, her icy blue eyes boring into him. "One more word, and I'll end you."
Hank clamped his mouth shut, his dreams of power—wealth, women, and loyal followers—slipping away as the cold reality of his situation sank in. He wasn't ready to die, not when he was so close to becoming someone important.
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