The agents rush their opponents.
These are D-types. Unlike the previous 3, D-types have no resemblance to a human anymore. In fact, it makes more sense to think they are wolves whose bodies have been contorted to somewhat resemble the humanoid form. Giving them a bear-like figure.
However, these D-types are particularly different. They aren't people who turned. They are what the agency refers to as pure D-types. The true werewolves. The natives of Arcadia.
There are 4 of these wolves. They are evenly matched. This isn't good. There are reasons why agents are paired, the main one is to increase the chance of success and survival. They have to request backup. One-on-one, against the native wolves, is very risky, but not impossible.
One of the wolves dashes through the line of agents. It's so fast not even the A-types are able to respond.
A large tree trunk falls from the sky. The agents have to break their formation and roll to avoid it. The other wolves take their chance to run past the agents towards the panicking crowd. Adalia takes no time and chases them.
Catrina grabs her hammer and hears a loud growl from the forest.
D-types are big. Standing on their hind legs they are about 3 meters tall. This one, though, is huge. It is gigantic. With its brown fur, it looks more like an enormous bear. Its eyes glow green, like the other wolves.
"You guys take care of them! I'll hold off this one," Catrina tells Henry and Jeannie.
They nod and chase the other wolves. Henry talks into his watch. "Requesting back up! We have an invasion of 5!" He repeats a few times.
The massive brown wolf leaps at the 2 running agents. With its sheer size and weight, it'll crush them for sure. No way Catrina is going to let it. She jumps in front of it, swings her hammer, and hits away it like a baseball. The light and smoke of the explosion separate them.
"Oh, great." Catrina groans as the smoke fade.
The blast sears away chunks of its fur, burns its skin, and fractures the bones underneath, instead of blowing it all over the place. This one isn't just big, it's tough as a rock.
"It's gonna take a lot more than that," he coughs blood. He's rubbing the bald spot Catrina just gave him.
"So you guys do speak." Catrina knows they can talk, though it's been a long time since the last time she hears one, she's just mocking him.
"Perhaps if I beat you up half dead, you'll see us as living beings."
"I do, that's why I'm trying to kill you."
"The feeling is mutual." He eviscerates a boulder from the ground and throws it at Catrina.
Adalia is chasing a gray wolf. It's a lot faster and more agile than her, even now after she became an A-type. It dashes ahead a good chunk of the crowd. It snarls at them. The workers run away. It chases them from the side.
It's herding people like they are sheep. They're so scared they stop thinking like humans.
It has to maintain a regular speed and goes on a predictable path. Adalia can catch it from ahead. She climbs over the side of a building, jumps over the masses, and drops onto the gray wolf, but it dodges out of the way.
Adalia runs ahead of it, charges her sword, strikes, and the gray wolf dodges.
She tries again and fails.
She tries again and fails.
She tries again and fails.
"Just leave me alone already," the wolf mumbles to himself. He has enough. The next time Adalia strikes at him he ducks down, chokes her, and slams her. He pins her down. Only now does he notice her ears and eyes.
"Strange. You look strange. You almost smell like one of us. What are you?"
Adalia only replies with a visage of fury.
With the shepherd gone, the people are able to run away.
The grey wolf groans. "Fantastic."
Adalia stabs his armpit. It's not deep enough to be lethal, but painful enough for it to back off.
Adalia dashes in for a slash, but it moves to a lamppost. She stomps and changes course, but it moves to the bulldozer. Adalia tries to get him this time, but he moves to the sidewalk.
"Give it up, you'll never catch me."
She ignores him, charges her sword, and dashes in. He's distracted. He's not moving. The strike is going to connect.
The gray wolf replaces himself with a worker. He's that quick. Adalia's reaction is fast enough to pull back her strike, making the slice shallow enough for it not to be lethal.
The worker is so shocked he freezes. He screams, but not a sound comes out of his mouth.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" Adalia lays him down, tears apart his shirt, and uses it to bandage his wound.
"Hey, you!"
Adalia turns around. The gray wolf is holding two workers in his arms. He runs his claws across their faces, letting their blood drip out. He breaks their necks and rips their heads off. Staining his gray fur with splatters of red.
"So, you saved one life, for what? 2 more dies. Is it worth it?"
Adalia drops onto her knees. She even lost the strength to keep her head up.
"That's right, just sit down. Let me do my thing. I only need to take one. I'll leave after that. You'll only make it worse."
No response.
"That's it, just give up. Now, which one should I take? Hmm... perhaps you?" He blinks to the bandaged worker who's still too shocked and scared to do anything. The wolf looks down at him. "But you're already wounded. You're already broken. You won't do. So, sadly, you just have to die." He extends his claws and slits the worker's throat in one swoop.
That is if he still has his claws. His hands are gone and his wrists are charred and carbonized. He finds his hands beside Adalia. Under her arm, holding out her steaming blade.
"Is it worth it?" Adalia speaks. "No mean's too expensive when the end is the prevention of even more." She stands and takes a stance against the wolf.
"Heh, I wonder how many more shall die until you reach the end."
"None. Not without your claws."
"I still have my teeth."
"Then I just have to aim for your neck." Adalia dashes in.
2 of the wolves have mixed colorations on their fur. Which means they have nothing special with them. Not the strength, size, and toughness of the brown autumn wolf nor the speed and agility of the gray spring wolf. Nevertheless, they are still pure D-types. They are far stronger, faster, and larger than a normal human.
They flank a group of workers in an alley. The people back away from both sides crushing those in the middle. A few are fainting. A few others are crying. There are even those who wet their pants.
Unlike Adalia and Catrina, Henry and Jeannie are more experienced as outskirts guards. Also, outskirts guards are in action more often than city watchers. What the A-types don't know, or rather, forgot, is aiming for the vitals is way more crucial with D-types than any other type. The only viable targets are the head for blunt weapons, the neck for blade weapons, and the heart for stabbing weapons.
Jeannie sneaks behind one of the wolves. Her weapon is a drill lance. It has 3 spiraling long blades which spin and drill through flesh when activated.
The wolf notices her sneaking just in time to make her miss the heart by a hair.
She activates the drill. All Jeannie has to do is to readjust the angle of her spear and it's done.
The wolf holds onto the spear, locking it in place. It claws Jeannie's face.
She takes it like it's nothing. What's 3 more wounds to a collection of facial scars.
Henry jumps from behind the wolf, hitting it right on the back of its head. His mace has such high voltage it can kill a person in just one hit. For a D-type however, it'll take a few.
It doesn't matter though. The wolf is stunned from the strike, enough to allow Jeannie to readjust her spear and drill through its heart.
The other wolf sees what's happening. It grabs a few people, jumps onto the buildings, and jumps over the agents.
Jeannie takes her spear, activates the drill, and throws it at the wolf.
It misses the vitals but gives enough pain to mess up its landing. The workers it's holding flee.
That is a risky move. The wolf could grab the spear and use it. Henry has to go to it and kill it before it can do anything. He hits the head twice, still alive. A third time, it still looks moving. He smashes into its head a fourth time and a fifth for good measure. Every hit shouts a thunderous electrical crack and bursts out a repulsive smell of burnt flesh, blood, and fur. The body goes limp.
Jeannie collects her spear. The workers approach them, the dead bodies of the D-types. They start to chatter and whisper.
Jeannie turns at them. "What are you guys doing? Run!" She shouts.
The workers look at each other and do as they are told.