Chapter 147 The Nine of Spades failed at Veridiania
Countless netizens rubbed their eyes in disbelief, staring at their screens. There it stood, unmistakable in its imposing glory: a gigantic mechanical dog. Its metallic hide gleamed under the artificial light, every inch radiating power. Its head was held high, a silent declaration of dominance. Razor-sharp claws, massive and intimidating, promised swift retribution. And those eyes, glowing red orbs pulsing with an eerie light, sent shivers down their spines.
The chat exploded.
[Holy crap, this is insane!]
[Is that a freaking Transformer?!]
[Tell me this is real, this level of tech exists?!]
[I'm dreaming, someone pinch me!]
[That rumor about Paul Three being from the future… I'm starting to believe it…]
[I'm sold, this guy is the real deal!]
[Paul Three, are you taking disciples? I'm a quick learner!]
[One hundred million, take it or leave it, sell me one of those!]
[Dude, you think they mass-produce these things?]
The appearance of the mechanical dog had thrown the internet into a frenzy. It was like something out of a fever dream, a testament to Paul Three's enigmatic brilliance. Virtual gifts rained down upon the livestream, a digital standing ovation for the tech wizard.
The viewer count soared, hitting an unprecedented 800 million. Never before had a livestream garnered such an audience. This was history in the making.
Paul Three's voice cut through the digital cacophony. "Hold on to your hats, folks, the show's not over yet. Seems our dear Nine of Spades is making a run for it!"
"Wait, where'd he go?"
The netizens snapped out of their awe, their attention returning to the screen.
Just moments ago, the seemingly incapacitated Nine of Spades had sprung back to life. With the agility of a seasoned escape artist, he had vanished into the shadows.
He was a cyborg, after all. A little water wasn't going to keep him down.
But as he fled, a mixture of exhilaration and bewilderment washed over him.
'What in the ever-loving hell was this mission?! A freaking mechanical dog? This was beyond insane!' he exclaimed inwardly.
Screw the money, he was out!
He risked a glance over his shoulder. Thankfully, the mechanical monstrosity wasn't in hot pursuit. A glimmer of hope sparked in his chest.
Up ahead, he spotted a door leading to the surface. He didn't care about the cameras anymore, and survival was paramount.
He threw open the door, ready to make a break for it.
His heart plummeted to his stomach.
The lawn was swarming with police officers, their flashlights cutting through the darkness as they combed the area.
A subtitle flashed across the screen: [What the…? How did they know about my plan?!]
"Damn it!" he shouted.
The sound of the door alerted a nearby officer. The beam of his flashlight was already swinging towards him.
His eyes narrowed. He wouldn't go down without a fight. Instead of retreating, he charged, his movements fluid and swift as he melted into the bushes.
Cyborg enhancements. Speed and agility beyond human limits.
The subtitle reappeared: [With my skills, I can lose them easily. You fools are no match for Nine of Spades!]
Another flashlight beam swept past him. He used the momentum to propel himself upwards, landing silently on a sturdy branch, concealed by the thick foliage.
It was midnight, and his dark attire provided excellent camouflage.
The viewers held their breath, desperate to warn the police through the screen.
'He's in the tree! Right there!' they screamed internally.
The officers swarming Lab Graveyard were none other than Wavehaven's elite SWAT team, led by their formidable Commander Leonard.
Leonard, nursing a thermos of hot tea, leaned against a patrol car, his eyes scanning the area.
An hour ago, he had received a rather cryptic message from Elbert, promising him a "gift." The gift, it turned out, was the internationally wanted Nine of Spades.
Elbert had also requested a small favor: to refrain from interfering with the live-streamed assassination attempt.
Leonard, never one to refuse a challenge, had mobilized his team and secured the perimeter of Lab Graveyard within thirty minutes.
However, Elbert had neglected to mention the assassin's exact location, only stating that he would "reveal himself."
A flicker of worry crossed Leonard's mind. This wasn't some two-bit criminal. Nine of Spades was a ghost, a cyborg assassin with a reputation for ruthlessness.
He had witnessed Elbert's strength firsthand, sending Rex flying with a single kick. He wasn't concerned about Elbert's safety.
Suddenly, a strange expression crossed Leonard's face. He wanted to laugh, but this was a serious situation. He tried to suppress it, but the amusement bubbled up, escaping as a chuckle.
He shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Elbert, you rascal, you got me again."
He strolled towards a particularly dense tree, thermos in hand.
"Mr. Xavier," he called out, his voice calm and measured, "you are under arrest."
Nine of Spades, perched precariously on a branch, was baffled.
'What is this old man playing at? Does he know I'm up here? Impossible,' he thought, slightly shaking his head.
He decided to relocate, just in case. With practiced ease, he leaped from one tree to another, his movements silent and swift.
Leonard, seemingly unfazed, simply turned his head, following the assassin's movements.
"Mr. Xavier," he repeated, his voice laced with amusement, "you are under arrest."
Nine of Spades, still oblivious, continued his arboreal acrobatics.
He hadn't noticed the faint green glow emanating from his clothes. A glow that was becoming increasingly brighter.
The viewers, however, were in on the joke.
Paul Three had added luminescent powder to the water that had flushed Nine of Spades out of the sewer. As his clothes dried, the powder was now putting on a spectacular light show.
Leonard, along with 800 million viewers, watched in amusement as Nine of Spades, resembling a glowing monkey, swung from tree to tree, occasionally ducking into the bushes for cover.
The chat exploded once more, this time with laughter.
[This guy is hilariously bad at this!]
[I haven't laughed this hard in ages!]
[Paul Three, you're killing me with this, literally!]
[My sides hurt, I can't breathe!]
Leonard, unable to contain himself any longer, let out a hearty laugh and waved his hand.
In a flash, SWAT officers surrounded the bush where Nine of Spades was currently hiding. Dozens of flashlights converged on his position, bathing him in a blinding light.
Nine of Spades finally realized something was amiss.
'What in the blue blazes is going on?!' he screamed internally.
He looked down at his clothes, the glow impossible to miss now.
It dawned on him. He had been played. Utterly and completely outmaneuvered by Elbert.
Rage and humiliation surged through him.
"Damn, Elbert! If I am going down, I am taking someone with me."
As he shouted, he launched himself at Leonard, a dagger appearing in his hand, aimed at the Commander's throat.
The attack was lightning-fast, catching the surrounding officers off guard.
But before the blade could connect, a blur of motion intercepted the assassin.
A one-armed youth, moving with twice the speed of Nine of Spades, descended upon him.
A single, well-placed kick sent the assassin flying backwards, crashing into a tree with a sickening crack.
The tree splintered, collapsing under the force of the impact. Nine of Spades lay still, unconscious.
The one-armed youth landed gracefully, dusting off his hands.
"Finally, some action," he muttered, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.
Leonard, however, paid little attention to the unconscious assassin. His eyes were fixed on the young man, and there was a glint of admiration in them.
"Summer," he began, his voice laced with respect, "how would you like to join the SWAT team?"
"Nah," Summer replied, shaking his head. "Elbert said I'm not allowed to kill you. Yet."
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