Dark Fate, Chapter 219

Chapter 219 – Overkill

I checked my watch. 04:03 Moscow time, meaning that it was just after 10 in the morning in Yakutsk. The attack should be underway. Which meant it was time for me to make my move.

I did not have any kind of [Stealth] skill, but having a DEX of 336 with my items meant that I could make my footsteps as silent as a cat’s, if I tried, and my all-black outfit blended well with the shadows. I did not bother with a mask. Why should I, when I had [Shapeshifting]? I could make my face resemble anyone I pleased, and a CHA of 2342 meant that anyone I came across would be hard pressed to see through my disguise. No matter how outlandish it was.

Since I was in Russia, I thought it best to pull up a face that every Russian would recognize, much like how any American would recognize a picture of one of the more iconic American presidents, for good or ill. Well-kept mustache, and a full head of short hair. Distinctive jawline, and a confident stare. No signs of grey. It was the spitting image of Stalin, at the start of the Soviet era. Anyone watching the footage from different cameras was going to wonder how much they’d been drinking.

A guard noticed me as I jumped the wall surrounding the compound I was ‘visiting’. I punched him in the face with all my strength. He was only in Tier 1, and I was Tier 3. His defenses took a nose dive, and my attack’s damage shot up. The only reason I didn’t turn the man into a bloody paste on the ground was because of [Hold Back].

I didn’t stop to admire my handiwork, however. Moving quickly, I infiltrated the building disabling guards as I came across them, until I hit the main security room. It had only been two minutes since I began the attack. The lone guard for the overnight shift here was just starting to worry as he tried to get one of the guards on the radio. He turned as I entered the control room, but didn’t have time to do more than gape at me before I slammed his face into my knee, knocking him out.

Now, I would have a bit of time before anyone managed to raise an alert. Not that alarms would be able to stop me, but it would complicate things. Right now, I knew where my target was. If an alarm sounded, and reinforcements showed up, then there was a chance my target would try to escape, either by vehicle, or by using some item to teleport away. I couldn’t risk that, which is why I moved to take out the security office first.

Even so, that would probably only buy me fifteen or twenty minutes, before unconscious guards were found by other guards on patrol. If they were professionals at all, they would call in to the security office. When that got no response, they would call an emergency line or pull a fire alarm, or something of the sort, to wake people up and get them moving. I needed to be done by then.

Two guards outside the target’s room. Light, but expected. It was the middle of the night, and Moscow was warded against monster spawns. They weren’t technically at war with anyone, and assassinating major world leaders wasn’t something that other nations on Earth did. Oh, they definitely would assassinate someone they didn’t want in power in third world countries, but directly attacking the person in charge of one of the major countries? The ones that actually mattered, in the Pre-System world? That just wasn’t done.

But Ceres wasn’t like those countries. We didn’t pussy-foot around issues. The best way to discourage politicians from playing games with Ceres was not to make proportional responses, or anything like that. The best way to stop the games was to ensure that the people in charge were personally brought to heel, and forced to face the consequences of their actions. Fortunately, I had the power to do just that, and they would be hard-pressed to find anyone who could do the same against me.

Was it bullying the weak, just like the old superpowers always did to countries who couldn’t truly fight back? Of course. However, the difference between Ceres and the old powers, like Russia and the US, was that I didn’t hide that fact. Instead, I owned it, and wore it openly. I didn’t do anything that I was ashamed about, so I had no reason to hide anything, or deny anything.

Two quick strikes, and the guards were down. The second had a good reaction time. She actually managed to clear her pistol from the holster before my fist sent her sprawling. Not that the weapon would have done anything to me, of course. They would need Tier 3 weapons with Tier 3 individuals wielding them to have any real chance of hurting me. Even then, my Defense was almost to 36,000, and [Shadow Armor] reduced any incoming damage by 22,560, meaning they would have to have attacks that could deal damage enough to overcome that in order to have a prayer of even scratching me. That simply wasn’t happening.

I opened the door, not making a sound as I did so. No sense in waking my prey prematurely. Like a ghost, I moved through the presidential suite, until I got to the bedroom. My target was there, in bed, alone. Perfect. A [Capture Ball] quickly scooped him up, before he even knew I was there. Clearly, the president hadn’t gotten any kind of [Danger Sense] skill. Which was a clear sign that he didn’t expect anyone to actually deliver consequences to his doorstep. I, at least, had [Situational Awareness], [On Guard], and [Sense Fate], along with [Combat Composure], meaning that I was always on guard, had better awareness of my surroundings, could get glimpses of the future, and would be able to keep calm and make clear-headed decisions even in the midst of combat. Any leader who didn’t have some skills like that was pretty much doomed in a post-System world.

My business done, I used [Teleport Without Error] to teleport to the rendezvous point in Yakutsk. I needed to be there to take possession of the [Capture Balls] that Tselner and his people were going to be bringing me. Oh, and I also needed to sign over the light freighter I promised to him. I was a demon of my word, after all.

(Yakutsk)

“All clear, boss.”

On the third floor of the FSB building, Vitomir breathed out slowly as the last of his people reported in. Crazy enough, they did a full out frontal assault on a building with guys armed with plenty of guns, and definite training in how to use them. Before the System, he wouldn’t have been surprised if half his guys had been killed or wounded, and the rest ran off, with that kind of setup. That’s the kind of attack you wanted to use guys with military training for, and have them all geared up appropriately. Which most syndicates couldn’t easily do.

Fortunately, the System changed things. Zero deaths, and the only injuries were some minor bruising from the team in the garbage truck, as they crashed the gate and ran over a few cars. Not even worth talking about, considering what they’d been a part of.

All his people were at least Level 30 in Tier 1. He, himself, was at Level 41. One of the younger picciottos was a fan of some of those books and anime projects that got popular, not long before the System. When the Initialization happened, the boy, barely eighteen, had come up with a plan, and brought it to Vitomir.

The plan was simple. Not the kind of simple that blatantly ignored the possibility of anything going wrong, but the kind that assumed things would go to hell, so the plan would be a rough guide, rather than a detailed, step-by-step procedure. And it wasn’t like one of those idiots who assumed that everything was a game, now.

The kid, Leshev Foma Olegovich, had proposed splitting his men into ‘parties’, based around the roles of ‘damage’, ‘healer’, and ‘tank’, and to actively recruit anyone they could find with classes that would help with that. Then, once they had parties, they would go out, fighting monsters in the city, and then later going to the dungeon, once they’d found one just to the north. Fighting to raise their levels, and grow stronger, while keeping safe.

Vitomir was proud, but he wasn’t stupid. The kid had a plan that looked like it would work, so he’d approved it, and actively worked with his men on it. And it had paid off. He was a Level 41 Fighter / Commander, and the people of Yakutsk looked more to him and his than to the government for leadership, since his people had been on the front line driving back the monsters before city wards were developed. Oh, and they’d made a lot of money, both from the ‘drops’, and from bringing some crafters under their protection.

Now, Leshev’s plan had paid off yet again. His men had been fighting the last two years, painfully levelling up, which led to the success today. And Leshev had actually been a core part of that, with the Level 37 Force Mage / Enchanter and his Mass Force Shield spell. Sure, casting and holding the spell on so many people at once had ended up reserving 90% of the kid’s MP, but the invisible shields basically made his men immune to the guns wielded by the FSB agents, who averaged around Level 15.

Clearly, they had been more focused on their secret projects and the like, and had neglected to put in the work to get stronger. Not that he was complaining, of course. An easy win, that he got paid handsomely for? There were few better things in the world.

But things weren’t finished, yet. Vitomir turned, eyes seeking, and then finding the person he wanted to speak to now. “Sergey! You still have the ‘special package’ our client asked us to deliver?”

Shalyapin Sergey Denisovich (his second in command) nodded, as he pulled a large device out of his inventory, setting it on the ground. Vitomir shuddered involuntarily as he looked at the otherwise unassuming black metal cube. Oh, it looked like nothing important, but he’d had his people run an [Identify] on it, and that thing was some scary shit that he would be glad to never be near again. Some things were too dangerous to mess with.

He clicked his radio, and said, “All teams, retrieve [Capture Balls] and return to the vehicles. We’re setting up the device now. If anyone gets a case of stupid, and fails to get out in time, I will personally have a Necromancer rip your spirit back from the grave, so I can insult you while I teach your mother, sister, and girlfriend what a real man’s like, and make you watch.”

As a chorus of acknowledgements came through the radio (along with one of his pakhans, Alexei, bantering how the joke was on him, since he was an orphan, only child, and gay), Vitomir had to smile. The jokes were good. It meant that his people knew they’d done well, and were looking forward to the spoils. And then Sergey spoke up. “Device is ready, boss. Timer set to ten minutes.”

Vitomir looked to the rest of his team. “We have all the [Capture Balls]?” An affirmative response. “Good. Start it up, Sergey. And then let’s get out of here. Greene said that we would be safe outside the gate, but I want to be at least a hundred meters further before that thing goes off!”

“You and me both, boss,” Sergey laughed. “Set.”

“Move out!”

Ten minutes later, the entire crew was watching from a parking garage two hundred meters away. Close enough that they could watch what was about to happen, but not so far that they were at risk. Probably.

CRA-THUNK!

The sound was like unholy stepchild of the crack of thunder and a brick shattering someone’s skull. White light burst out from the third-floor office they’d planted the device in. It ignored insignificant things like ‘walls’. The light expanded to the property line, and then collapsed in on itself. Only, nothing was left. Just bare earth, and a hole in the ground, with not even the building’s foundation remaining. And then, water began flowing into the hole from the city pipes.

“Well,” Vitomir breathed. “Sergey, let the men know that if they see anyone with a [Forced Entropy Bomb], they are to tell me immediately. And not touch the damn thing!”

Sergey just nodded. “Yeah, boss. Yeah. I knew the [Identify] came back saying that it would age everything in the area ten thousand years, but fuck!”

“Indeed,” Vitomir nodded. “Also, see about getting a reward to Leshev. Let him know that he is appreciated. His ‘level up’ plan, and those shields, made all the difference.”

“About that, boss. We’re probably going to want to start up a group on Ceres, yeah? But they won’t be able to operate as much like we do here in the Motherland. I’m thinking, have one of our senior guys go and set something up, but make Leshev his right hand.”

“Hmm. You have a point. After we go speak with Greene again, have Strelkov and Leshev meet me in my office. Strelkov has been talking about making his own crew, and trying to take over operations in Neryungri, since Yuferev and his crew got eaten by werewolves six months ago. Instead, let us send him to Ceres. Usatov is more of a brute, but he’d be good for the Neryungri role.”