"Who the hell are you? I don't know anyone like you."
"We're looking for Royce. Dexter sent us."
The voice on the other side paused, swallowing a breath, "Go to the machine room, they're waiting for you."
With that, the entrance shutter door rolled up with a clatter.
Inside was a dark place with many shelves and machinery.
"Nice atmosphere, it'd be even better with a couple of potted plants," Jackie joked, "Wow, they're pretty well-prepared."
Two machine gun turrets stood blatantly at the entrance, scanning around with a creaking sound.
Rogue looked around—no cameras.
A subtle yet unpretentious smile appeared on her face.
"Why are you smiling so happily?"
V turned her head to see Rogue smiling like a "clown" and asked.
"I thought of something happy," Rogue said solemnly.
Looking at the two turrets, V couldn't help but feel less happy: "I've never seen a food factory with such tight security."
"Uh, they probably got all this equipment from hijacking transport trucks... Heh, they're probably armed to the teeth," Jackie sarcastically remarked, clearly despising Maelstrom to the extreme, "Hey, what's inside?"
Moving deeper, the space widened, and the three saw vehicles parked in the open area.
MILITECH, military technology trucks.
"I thought these bastards only stole a few crates, damn they hijacked a whole truck!" Jackie slapped his forehead, realizing why MILITECH was so keen on taking down Maelstrom.
"Hey, wait."
At this point, Rogue called out to V and Jackie.
"Send a message to that spiky-haired woman, take pictures of these things and send them to her, then have her prepare her people. As soon as the virus gets in, start a strong attack."
"Also, you two go ahead on your own."
"What about you?" Jackie asked.
V also cast a puzzled look.
"You'll see soon, go ahead, be careful." Rogue patted their shoulders, flashed an OK sign, and walked back the way she came.
Jackie and V exchanged glances, shrugging their shoulders.
"Trust Lucky, she always has a way," V had great faith in Rogue and continued forward.
"Let's go," Jackie casually replied.
"If I remember correctly, it should be this door."
It took Rogue a while to find the door she remembered outside the whole food processing plant.
Regardless of the choices made before and after getting the goods, V and Jackie would eventually walk out of this door.
At the same time, they would also meet the tardy MILITECH executive, the victorious Stout, or the smug Gilchrist.
But today, everything will be rewritten.
Now, Meredith Stout, who has just received V's message, will arrive here earlier, and MILITECH's offensive will also start sooner.
As for him...
"Zing—"
With a sharp sound, the slender and straight katana was drawn.
Today, Rogue will go against the grain and sneak his way in, assassinating enemies along the way.
"Click, click, click..."
He pushed the door, and the sound of locking came through.
Through the glass in the middle of the door, the view was narrow, making it impossible to tell if anyone was inside.
Rogue glanced around, saw no danger, slowly backed up a few meters, and kicked the small door open with a "bang" after a running start.
The door violently broke free from the lock, bounced back after hitting the wall.
"Huh!? What's going on!?"
A gang member who was welding something on the ground suddenly became alert and turned his head to see the sunlight entering because the back door was kicked open.
He drew his pistol, slowly, slowly approaching.
Suddenly, with a "pfft," a stranger with a katana in both hands appeared in front of him, the blade already deeply embedded in his chest.
Blood foamed from his mouth, trickling down, and then he fell silently with a look of resentment.
Rogue dragged his corpse up and pulled it into the shadowy corner, crouched down, and continued walking.
The open space was filled with cluttered vehicles, boxes, wires, and various large and small equipment and tools. The ceiling was about eight or nine meters high, and many windows were open at the highest point, allowing sunlight to pour in freely, reflecting the "Tyndall phenomenon" in this not-so-clean air.
Maelstrom's logo, a fluffy human skull multi-eyed spider, was spray-painted high on the wall.
The eyes emitted the same blood-red glow as Maelstrom's optical implants, and the shattered, ghastly skull symbolized relentless transformation.
Doors all around were tightly closed, or rusted for years and never opened iron gates. Rogue didn't dare try brute force again; causing a commotion in this place would be tantamount to announcing an enemy invasion.
"Got it."
Seeing that there was no way to go on the second-floor staircase, Rogue searched around, climbed a tall shelf, leaped out, hung on the railing of the second-floor staircase, and slowly flipped over.
Gently opening this sliding door, he seemed to have entered an even more inexplicable area.
Chaotic equipment, various colored lights and signal lights illuminated only a part of the dim space. A few listless shadows were strolling leisurely inside, occasionally leaning against the wall to rest for a while.
These were Maelstrom members!
Rogue saw the modifications on their faces, but without exception, their eyes were all disfigured, like aimlessly wandering zombies, roaming the metallic maze.
There was a way.
Although the path down the stairs was spacious and directly connected to the front, it was full of people. Rogue groped in the dark for a while before discovering another hidden path in the darkness—a pitch-black control room, perhaps not very important, and highly automated, with even the console covered with trash like wine bottles.
Following the staircase down, the path was wide and led straight ahead, yet it was filled with people. In the darkness, Roche groped for a while before discovering another path hidden in the shadows—a pitch-black control room, possibly unimportant and highly automated. The console was even cluttered with trash like liquor bottles.
Such a path seemed like a maintenance walkway suspended in the air, with a faint musty smell emanating from the corridor behind.
Ahead was a narrow aerial walkway, the door at the end locked. Right beneath Roche at that moment were a few Whirlpool Gang members sitting on boxes, chatting or daydreaming.
Roche dared not disturb them. Climbing over the railing and stepping on the tall shelves, he stuck close to the wall, carefully moving forward.
Like a silent ghost.
"Camera!"
Roche spotted the little thing emitting a faint light on the wall, which was systematically scanning back and forth. If anything went awry, these AI-equipped electronic devices would turn all the surrounding warning lights red.
Less than three meters in front of him was a Whirlpool Gang member with his back turned. Roche held his breath, inch by inch, moving at an extremely slow pace up the stairs.
Dark, very dark, and the lights were off.
This environment, though highly conducive to sneaking, made it unbearable for one's eyes.
One small area was incredibly bright, while the others were pitch black. Staying here any longer would surely impair one's vision.
No wonder Whirlpool Gang members had eye modifications, Roche thought to himself.
At the top of the stairs was a control console covered with gauges and monitoring equipment. An enemy was looking down at the data. As he looked up, he locked eyes with Roche, who had snuck up on him.
"Thud—!"
Roche immediately slashed with his blade, and blood instantly sprayed over the console.
Catching the lifeless body as it collapsed, Roche dragged it aside, his hands and body covered in red.
The carotid artery in the neck was severed, and blood sprayed like a fountain. Even when using the computer, Roche had to wipe the screen with his sleeve to see the obscured information.
Monitoring system—shutdown.
A nearby surveillance camera went silent and obediently folded up.
The plan was going smoothly.
Roche let out a long breath.
It was so damn thrilling.
Infiltrating the enemy's lair alone was no exaggeration.
If not for the courage he'd built up over the past six months, Roche's legs would probably be too weak to stand.
He shook off his nerves.
Passing through a narrow and cramped path like a winding sheep intestine, he finally arrived at a very familiar place.
The deafening roar of a massive engine, the cacophony of machinery, the loud shouting—this was the assembly line hall for mass-producing "meat bags." Countless messy bits of flesh and additives were mixed together, eventually forming a disgusting, mud-like meat.
In 2077, whether it was a conscientious or unscrupulous business, all kinds of synthetic meat were used—the only difference being whether it was qualified synthetic meat or this filthy workshop assembly line meat.
Roche silently passed through the corridor, hiding his figure in the oncoming materials. Taking advantage of the inattention, he stuck to the corner and, using the cover of boxes, slowly approached a glass door.
This is the place!
His spirits lifted, Roche pulled out his katana, gently moved the door aside, and approached two enemies with their backs to him.
"Snap—!"
"Squish!!"
In an instant, blades flashed, and the two enemies fell.
When it came to slashing people, things could go wrong only if one lacked the necessary strength, which was why most undercover agents preferred using daggers.
However, this was relative to ordinary people—Roche's strength was exceptionally great, severing heads with a single stroke.
Dodging the carelessly placed cameras and relying on his memory, Roche arrived outside a room.
The ventilation equipment above him made a "whoosh" noise, the fans spinning leisurely, and the air ducts howling.
He approached a tightly closed pneumatic door with a radiation symbol hanging at its entrance.