Thomas carefully lowered the refugee's body to the ground, wiping his knife clean. He moved on to his next target. The refugees hadn't noticed the dwindling numbers in their ranks. Black Dog's attention was focused on the survivor they were encircling. He noticed the survivor's rate of fire decreasing.
"He's running out of ammo!" Black Dog shouted. "Get him!"
The refugees split into two groups. One group provided covering fire, suppressing the survivor. The other moved in for the capture. Black Dog waited, anticipating an easy victory.
Ben Walker, hidden in an alcove, was reloading when he received a message from Thomas.
Thomas: Hold your fire. Take out your grenade. Pull the pin. Wait for my signal. Throw it five meters behind you. They're closing in.
Ben's heart pounded. He followed the instructions, holding the live grenade.
Ben: Ready!
Thomas silently eliminated another refugee, then equipped his assault rifle, pulling out a grenade of his own. He'd wanted to continue picking them off one by one, but Ben was in danger. He moved into position ten meters behind the refugees providing covering fire, waiting for the right moment.
He saw on his mental map that the capture team was within seven meters of Ben.
Thomas: Now! Five meters behind you! Throw! After the explosion, fire towards the left wall, twenty meters.
He threw his own grenade towards the covering fire team. It landed unnoticed at their feet. Their attention was on Ben. Then Ben's grenade landed among the capture team.
"Grenade! Run!"
But Ben had timed it perfectly.
BOOM! BOOM!
Screams filled the tunnel. Both teams were decimated. Black Dog, stunned by the double explosion and the cries of his men, finally saw Thomas, his weapon spitting fire.
"We're flanked! Attack!"
The refugees returned fire, but Ben, following Thomas's instructions, popped out from cover and unleashed a volley of bullets. Thomas, using the cloak and mask to his advantage, fired short bursts, rolling and relocating between shots. He was a fleeting target, almost impossible to hit. Ben, keeping his head down, fired blindly in the direction Thomas had indicated.
Thomas threw another grenade.
BOOM!
More screams. The tunnel was a cacophony of pain and chaos. Ben emptied his submachine gun, then his pistol. The refugees were almost all dead, only a few wounded survivors moaning on the floor. A few more shots rang out, silencing them. The tunnel fell silent.
Thomas, clutching his thigh, swallowed a painkiller. He quickly bandaged his wound, keeping a close eye on Ben's dot on his mental map. It was a deeper green now, but he couldn't be too careful.
Ben's messages flooded in.
Ben: Pro, I'm out of ammo! Are there any more of them?
Ben: Pro, it's quiet now. Are they all dead?
Ben: Pro…Pro…are you okay? Don't scare me.
Ben: Pro, you saved me…I…
Thomas: I'm not dead yet! Relax…
Ben: Pro…you're alive! Thank god!
Thomas, his wound healed, stood up, weapon raised.
Thomas: They're all dead. Come out.
He lowered his hood, revealing his face, and shone his flashlight towards Ben's position. "Come out!"
Ben emerged, grinning. "Pro! Finally! Whoa…" He stared at Thomas, his face contorting in shock.
Thomas realized he was still wearing the black face mask. "It's just a mask," he said.
Ben relaxed. Thomas had been watching Ben's dot on his map. It had turned an even deeper green, almost glowing. He casually lowered his weapon.
"Did you have a girlfriend, Ben?" he asked.
"Uh…yeah. We broke up. That's why I volunteered for the game."
"Right," Thomas said, noticing Ben was just a teenager. "You're younger than I expected."
Ben blushed. "Just turned eighteen."
Thomas smiled, gesturing towards the bodies. "Go ahead and loot them. Take what you can carry." He didn't mind sharing the spoils. Ben had earned it.
"Really, Pro?" Ben's eyes widened.
"Yeah. Just be quick. This place isn't safe."
Ben didn't hesitate, rushing towards the bodies. Thomas turned his attention to Black Dog's location, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Time to collect my prize.
Thomas and Ben worked quickly. There wasn't time to sort through the loot carefully. Ben filled his backpack and slung two submachine guns over his shoulders.
"Thanks, Pro! I'll message you later!"
"Be careful out there," Thomas said, watching Ben disappear into the tunnel.
He made several trips, carrying the remaining loot back to his hideout. He moved the three bodies from his hideout into the tunnel, staging the scene to look like the refugees had been ambushed and the attacker had fled deeper into the tunnel. He carefully erased any trace of his presence near his hideout, then finally relaxed.
It had been a close call. But his constant preparation – upgrading his gear, his skills, and his hideout – had paid off. Luck had also been on his side. If Ben hadn't traded him the paralytic toxin, he wouldn't have completed the Knife Runner event and received the stealth skill and cloak. And if Ben hadn't shown up and drawn the refugees' attention, he wouldn't have had the opportunity to ambush them.
Ben's my lucky charm, he thought, amused.
Meanwhile, Ben, struggling under the weight of his loot, finally reached his hideout. He'd taken Thomas's words to heart, loading himself down with as much as he could carry. He was both exhilarated and terrified. This haul would change everything. Four rifles, four pistols, several grenades, and mountains of ammo. Plus a stash of medical supplies he'd specifically targeted. He grinned, then remembered something, quickly opening his messages.
Ben: Pro, I'm back safe.
Thomas: Good.
Thomas traded him four Level 2 vests.
Thomas: Your share.
These were from the refugees Ben had taken down. Thomas didn't need them.
Ben: Pro, you…
Thomas: Don't mention it. Busy now.
Ben: Okay, Pro!
Thomas turned his attention to potential vulnerabilities in his hideout. He knew this was just the beginning. Next time, it might be dozens, or even hundreds of enemies. He needed to be prepared.
With the cloak and mask, darkness was his ally. He decided to embrace it. He equipped his gear and headed for the station's electrical room.
Two grenades later, the room was a mangled mess of sparking wires. The station plunged into darkness. He double-checked the damage, ensuring the systems were beyond repair, then returned to his hideout. He finally felt safe. He now understood why the hideout required a generator, even though the city still had power. The game designers had planned for this.
His hideout was also dark now. He hadn't bothered with lighting before, relying on the station's power. Time to fix that.
[Lighting] (Level 1)
Effect: Provides basic lighting using candles.
Requirements: 10,000 Apocalypse Coins, Candle x1, Lighter x1
Construction Time: 5 minutes
He initiated construction.
Five minutes later, the Lighting Level 1 was complete. He immediately started the upgrade to Level 2.
[Lighting] (Level 2)
Effect: Provides electric lighting.
Requirements: Generator Level 1, Lighting Level 1, Lightbulbs x10, Wires x10, Switch x1, 20,000 Apocalypse Coins
Upgrade Time: 1 hour
He needed a lot of lightbulbs and wires. He traded a knife and a vest for them in Zone Chat, then started the upgrade. He took another nap while he waited.
He woke up at night. The lighting upgrade was complete. He filled the generator with two canisters of fuel he'd looted earlier. The generator sputtered to life, a low hum filling the hideout. He flipped the switch. Light flooded the room.
Nice. Another piece of black tech. Quiet and efficient. And the exhaust vents directly into the ventilation system.
With only the lights drawing power, he set the generator to its lowest setting. The two canisters should last a while.
He went outside, checking for any signs of light, sound, or vibration emanating from his hideout. Nothing. He was satisfied. He was glad he'd traded for the soundproofed door and insulated walls.
Back inside, he started building the kitchen, then finally turned his attention to the spoils of his latest victory. The haul was immense. He looked at the piles of equipment with a sense of accomplishment.