The streets of Uchiha were quiet, save for the distant hum of neon signs and the occasional murmur of late-night traders. Danner and his crew moved like shadows, slipping through alleys and sticking to the dimly lit corners of the sprawling blank city. Their target, Kael, was just ahead, walking with an air of nonchalance that put some of the men on edge.
"Is this guy an idiot?" one of the crew whispered, his voice barely audible over their quiet footsteps. "He's just strolling along like he doesn't have a care in the world. No firearms in sight."
"Maybe they're hidden under that coat," another replied, eyeing Kael's oversized trench coat. "It's big enough to hide a small armory."
"Or," a third chimed in with a smirk, "maybe he's one of those poison freaks. Doesn't need guns when he can just gas you."
"Enough," Danner growled, his voice sharp and low. "We're not here to speculate. Just follow him. Let him lead us to his stash, then we take what we came for. No mess, no fuss."
Despite Danner's reassurances, the tension among his crew was palpable. They knew Kael wasn't an ordinary scavenger. He'd already taken out an entire squad of Wraiths—an accomplishment that earned him a mix of fear and begrudging respect.
Ahead of them, Kael walked calmly, his expression unreadable. He was aware of the eyes on him, the subtle sounds of footsteps trailing him through the narrow streets.
"It's like they think I don't know they're there," he muttered under his breath, a small, grim smile tugging at his lips.
As he rounded a corner, he reached up and pulled a concealed strap on his coat. With a soft hiss, a gas mask unfurled and snapped into place over his face. Without warning, Kael broke into a sprint, his boots pounding against the pavement.
"Shit! He's running!" one of the crew shouted.
"After him!" Danner barked, signaling for his men to spread out.
Kael darted through the maze-like streets of Uchiha, his coat billowing behind him. The men gave chase, their heavy boots echoing in the night.
Kael rounded another corner and drew a small pistol from his coat, twisting his body mid-stride to fire a series of sharp, precise shots. The first bullet struck the pavement near one of the pursuers, sending a spray of dust into the air. The second hit its mark, catching another in the shoulder and sending him sprawling to the ground.
"Return fire!" one of the men shouted, pulling out a submachine gun.
Bullets tore through the night as the crew fired back, the sound of gunfire shattering the quiet. But this wasn't Uchiha's first brush with violence. Within moments, the chaos spread, as other denizens of the blank city—gangs, mercenaries, and traders—joined the fray.
"Who the hell are these guys?!" someone yelled, raising their own weapon.
The streets erupted into a full-blown riot. Danner and his deputies scrambled to regroup, shouting orders to their scattered men as stray bullets whizzed past them.
"Stay together!" Danner roared. "Focus on Kael—don't lose him in this mess!"
Kael, meanwhile, used the chaos to his advantage. Ducking into an alley, he reloaded his pistol and continued toward his destination.
By the time Kael reached his current hideout, the chaos behind him had become a cacophony of shouting and gunfire. He could still hear Danner's men pursuing him, though their numbers seemed to have thinned.
"Showtime," Kael muttered, pulling open the gate to the small garage where his crawler was parked.
The crawler—a rugged, heavily modified vehicle—was more than just transportation. Kael had spent weeks outfitting it with an array of defensive measures, and tonight, it was about to earn its keep.
As the first of Danner's men approached, Kael pressed a button on his wrist-mounted control panel. A series of nozzles hidden around the garage began to hiss, releasing a dense, green gas into the air.
The men hesitated at the sight of the gas, their instincts screaming at them to stop.
"What the hell is that?!" one of them shouted, covering his mouth and nose.
"Don't just stand there—get him!" Danner barked, though even he seemed reluctant to charge into the toxic cloud.
Kael, safely inside the crawler with his gas mask in place, watched as the men faltered. The gas wasn't lethal—at least, not immediately—but it was designed to disorient and incapacitate.
As the men stumbled and coughed, Kael activated another feature of the crawler. A hidden turret emerged from the roof, swiveling to target the intruders.
"Time to thin the herd," Kael muttered, pressing another button.
The turret fired a volley of non-lethal rounds, each one packed with a powerful sedative. One by one, the men dropped, their bodies hitting the ground with dull thuds.
When the gas finally dissipated, Kael stepped out of the crawler, his pistol in hand. The street was littered with unconscious bodies, their weapons and gear scattered around them.
"Not bad," he said to himself, surveying the scene. "But they'll be back."
He quickly moved to strip the fallen men of anything useful—ammo, weapons, medical supplies—before tossing their unconscious bodies into the alley.
As he worked, Kael's mind raced. The Wraiths had been one thing, but Danner's crew was something else entirely. The hounds wouldn't wait much longer.
"I need to move," he muttered, climbing back into the crawler. "Before things get worse."
He started the engine, the crawler rumbling to life. With one last glance at the chaos he'd left behind, Kael drove off into the night, his thoughts already on the next move.