Chapter 79: "Please Be Patient"
Bullets shredded the stale air the instant Aren squeezed both triggers.
BANG! BANG!
The first two gunmen never finished seating fresh magazines into their pistols.
Twin reports cracked through the cavernous pump room. Both men jerked backward as neat holes appeared in their foreheads before the slides of their weapons had even returned to battery.
Aren neither rushed nor capitalized on their confusion with reckless speed.
She simply walked.
Every movement was economical, almost absentminded, as though she were navigating an inconvenient rainstorm rather than a room filled with armed men and one ambitious spy maid.
One of the mercenaries on her left finally slammed a fresh magazine home. His rifle snapped upward, triumph flashing across his face.
Aren’s gaze settled on him.
"I’m terribly sorry, sir," she asked with flawless politeness, "but... would you happen to be the one who slapped me earlier?"
The question seemed to strike him harder than the blood staining her face.
His face twisted in disbelief.
"...What?"
Someone shouted from across the room.
"The fuck is wrong with this bitch?!"
The first gunman finally recovered enough to sneer.
"Die, you crazy—"
His rifle never finished rising.
Aren blurred forward.
Her left pistol barked once.
BANG!
The bullet drilled cleanly through the center of his forehead.
Even as his body began to collapse, Aren caught him by the wrist before he could hit the floor. Turning his limp hand over, she studied the thickened skin of his palm with quiet concentration.
"Oh..."
Her thumb brushed across the calluses. This palm felt smoother than the one she remembered colliding with her face.
"No..." she murmured apologetically, letting his arm slip from her grasp. "Your hand isn’t rough enough."
The corpse struck the concrete with a dull splash. That was enough to shatter the paralysis gripping the remaining men.
"There!"
"She’s on the left!"
"Kill that crazy bitch!"
Gunfire erupted from every direction.
Aren flowed beneath the incoming barrage as though she had anticipated every trajectory before the triggers had been pulled. Seizing the nearest attacker by the sleeve, she spun him bodily into the stream of bullets.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
His own comrades shredded him before realizing what they had done.
Aren answered with her own fire.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Bodies dropped almost simultaneously across both sides of the room.
Stepping over one collapsing corpse, Aren paused just long enough to lift the dead man’s limp hand and examine it with the same detached scrutiny.
"Hm."
She rotated the wrist slightly.
"No. Sorry."
She released it.
"Not you."
Another shot cracked through the room.
BANG!
Another body fell.
Across the pump room, Daria stood rooted to the spot, scarcely able to breathe. Each passing second left her breathing more ragged than the last.
’Has this bitch completely lost her mind?!’
’She’s checking their hands?’
’Why is she checking their damn hands?!’
The room had descended into absolute madness.
Men screamed over one another.
Gunfire ricocheted between the concrete pillars.
Blood sprayed across walls stained by decades of rust and chemical residue.
And in the middle of the slaughter, Ariana Lombardi wandered through it all with the detached concentration of someone searching for a misplaced key.
Another mercenary lunged at her—
She sidestepped, caught his firing wrist, twisted until bone cracked, then calmly lifted his hand toward the light.
"Excuse me..."
The man howled as his shattered wrist dangled uselessly.
"Harghhh— W-wait—"
"I’m sorry," Aren said sincerely. "I couldn’t open my eyes earlier, so I wasn’t able to see everyone’s faces."
She sounded genuinely regretful.
"But... I don’t think your hand felt like that."
The pistol rose.
BANG!
A single shot ended the conversation.
Daria’s heart hammered so violently she thought it might burst.
’No... no... I have to do something.’
’Kill her.’
’I’ve got to kill her before she reaches me!’
Throwing herself toward the nearest corpse, Daria’s hands slipped in warm blood before finally closing around the discarded handgun lying beside it. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably as she raised the weapon.
Aren noticed immediately.
She didn’t even turn fully toward Daria. Instead, she caught another mercenary by the collar and yanked him directly into the line of fire.
Daria fired.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
The bullets meant for Aren punched into the unfortunate man instead. His body convulsed violently before sagging against Aren’s arm.
"Oh."
Aren looked calmly over the dying man’s shoulder.
"There you are."
Before Daria could recover enough to squeeze the trigger again, she leaned casually around the collapsing body.
Two shots rang out.
BANG! BANG!
Both rounds struck Daria cleanly through her shoulder.
"Aaahhh!"
The pistol flew from Daria’s hand as she crashed sideways onto the blood-slick concrete, clutching both wounds.
"My shoulder!" she shrieked. "You bitch!"
Around them, the surviving men barely had time to register what had happened.
Fear finally overwhelmed whatever discipline they possessed.
Some tried retreating. Others emptied entire magazines in panic. One abandoned the fight altogether and sprinted toward the doors.
None of it mattered.
Aren resumed firing.
Every squeeze of the trigger found another vital point. Every report ended with another body striking the floor.
Until finally—
Only a single armed man remained.
He stood broad-shouldered beside a rear support pillar, desperation etched across his face as he swung his scarred hand toward her in one last frantic attempt to survive.
His palm was thick.
Rough.
Covered in hardened calluses.
Exactly rough enough.
Aren caught his wrist.
For the first time since the fight had begun, recognition lit her eyes.
’Ah.’
A tiny smile touched her lips.
"Found you."
The man’s expression emptied.
"W-what?"
"I think..."
She looked directly into his eyes.
"...you were the one."
Raw terror overtook him.
Before he could utter a single plea, Aren glanced once more at his palm, as though confirming her conclusion, before firing twice into his chest.
BANG! BANG!
As his body folded backward, a final bullet pierced his forehead.
BANG!
Silence spread through the pump room with startling speed. The last echoes of gunfire faded until only the low industrial hum of the filtration machinery remained.
Sixteen bodies lay scattered across the concrete in every direction.
None of them moved.
Only Daria remained alive.
The maid forced herself upright despite the blood pouring from both shoulders. Tears streamed down her face as survival instinct consumed every rational thought she had left.
’Get out!’
’Just get out!’
’This bitch is a monster!’
’Run! Now!’
She stumbled toward the heavy steel door and shoved against it with all the strength she had left.
The door had barely begun opening when Aren moved again.
Her arm lashed out—
A knife spun through the air—
The blade punched cleanly through Daria’s hand before burying itself deep into the steel beyond, pinning flesh and metal together.
THUNK.
The impact nailed Daria’s hand to the door.
Her scream echoed through the entire facility.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"
She clawed frantically at the embedded knife, blood streaming down the metal.
"You bitch!" she shrieked hysterically. "You fucking whore! I’m going to kill you! I’ll kill you one day! I’ll—"
Aren reached her before the echoes had finished bouncing off the walls. Without a word, she wrapped her fingers around the knife’s handle.
Daria’s eyes widened in horror.
"No, no, no! Please—"
Aren pulled.
SCHLUCK.
The blade came free in a wet jerk.
Pain exploded through Daria’s hand, wrenching another scream from her as her knees gave way.
"Haaaaarghhh!"
Before she could collapse completely, Aren caught a fistful of her hair, forcing her upright again.
Her free hand rose—
Stopping directly in front of Daria’s face.
SMACK.
"One."
Daria cried out.
Another slap snapped her head violently the other way.
SMACK.
"Two."
Before she could recover, a third landed even harder.
SMACK.
"Three."
Only then did Aren release her.
Daria crumpled onto the blood-soaked concrete, sobbing uncontrollably. One ruined hand clutched at her bleeding shoulder while the other cradled the shredded remains of her palm.
Hatred warped her tear-streaked face.
"Kill me then!"
She spat blood across the floor.
"Go on! I’ll fucking haunt you! I’ll kill you one day! I’ll—"
Aren regarded her in silence. Her breathing remained perfectly even, untouched by everything that had happened.
"No."
She crouched beside the trembling maid, her expression calm, almost kind.
"Please be patient."
Daria blinked through tears, utterly bewildered.
Aren met her gaze without hostility.
"That was only for my part."
Her voice remained soft.
"There are still more debts to settle."
A brief pause.
"Namely Mister Driver..."
The warmth vanished from her eyes.
"...and Alice."
Every trace of color drained from Daria’s face.
She opened her mouth, but no words came.
Aren rested one finger thoughtfully against her own chin, considering something for a moment before giving herself a small nod.
"But before we get to that..."
A gentle smile touched her lips.
"Would you mind telling me where you’ve kept my phone? I have a very urgent phone call to make."
