I transmigrated and got a husband and a son!
Chapter 1050: A willing pawn

Chapter 1050: A willing pawn

BAM!

Sometimes Elliot found it amazing how one second could feel so long. And how the world seemed to quiet down to the point one could only hear their own breaths. Staring at the container several meters from him, his breath hitched as he felt momentarily deaf.

He couldn’t help but wonder; what if he didn’t assist his injured men? Would his fate be the same as those who were running ahead of him, who, unfortunately, were crushed to death like insects?

Elliot saw those guys running several meters ahead of him. He saw them running for their lives, and he also saw that those men didn’t seem to notice their impending doom. They were just running and then... gone.

Cruel.

That must be her, was the thought that instantly crossed his mind. She was called Hell for a reason. The woman only had two rules: send her enemies to hell or bring the inferno to them. This situation was definitely the latter.

For a moment, everyone just kept their eyes on the container that landed. Smoke ascended from beneath it. Slowly, blood crawled its way underneath it, giving everyone proof those men who were crushed into it weren’t just a figment of imagination.

This was happening.

And for some, it almost felt like a taste of the end of the world.

As everyone was trying to recover from the shock of this attack, they heard the ship produce another loud noise. When they turned on instinct, they caught the specialized cranes lifting another container from the ship. This time, everyone snapped back to the current lapse.

This was far from over.

"Sir! The Sun Organization is running!" From Elliot’s earpiece, different voices and reports rang all at once. "We just confirmed! The crew in the approaching boat were the deck and technical crew of the cargo ship. The ones in the ships were members of the Reapers."

"They got a hold of some members of the Sun Organization."

"Retreat! I repeat! Retreat!"

"They would toss another container. Create distance!"

"I got the target! I’ll shoot."

Elliot’s mind went haywire at the numerous reports he was receiving all at once. For a second, all he could do was stand in the same area amid the panic.

"Boss!" called one of the subordinates with him. "We got to go."

Elliot blinked weakly, casting his men a blank look. "Go," he breathed out. "Get out of here. Use this direction."

"Cover us!" he pressed into his earpiece. "My unit will go south. Cover them. The Sun Organization would take advantage of the situation to shoot any enemy on sight."

He didn’t waste a breath as he faced his people sternly. "Go! Get yourself out of here."

"What about you!?"

"I have to check on something," Elliot breathed out, tapping his subordinate’s shoulder in a hurry. "Go!"

Despite the reluctance in their eyes, they listened to his orders. Instead of going straight, they made a detour while carrying the injured to safety. This entire port was a danger zone. It almost felt like fighting a giant. Just how much more creative the Reapers could get in their deliverance?

"Ahem, ahem! Check, check mic, 1 2 3!" Suddenly, as everyone was running for their lives, they heard a voice from some sort of speaker. They didn’t know where and how — they didn’t have the chance to wonder. All they could do was listen to the person speaking through the microphone.

"Announcement: this is a live broadcast from the ship’s deck. I’m the captain of the ship, Mr. Perfect. The special delivery you’re seeing above you will be delivered to its rightful recipient," Primo announced from the ship’s deck, holding a walkie-talkie leisurely. "Reminder, you can run, but you never hide. This port is already under our territory. All exits and entrances are now shut down and the only way out is the ocean."

"We’ll continue to unload the ship in this manner until we get what we want," Primo continued. "And what we want is... nothing. Kill yourselves or just get crushed. The choice is yours..."

He trailed off, tapping his fingertips against the deck. "Before I forget, the boss said to spare the Interpol. But if they retaliate, kill them. So, I advised Elliot Dunkel to order his men, especially his sniper squad, to stop keeping me in their scope. Otherwise, my impatient partner will shoot them right straight in their scope."

"Thirty seconds more!" Primo added joyfully. "I wonder who’ll be the lucky ones this container will choose?"

Primo cut off his announcement, shifting his focus to a small monitor screen in front of him. The screen was just the size of a regular tablet, but it showed areas of the port where he could see everything.

"Hmm..." Primo hummed, taking his pick to where he would toss the container this time.

Meanwhile,as Primo was deciding, the people in the port didn’t stop from fleeing. They heard everything Primo said, but none of them stopped. Elliot, on the other hand, pressed his earpiece once more.

"Who’s the target you were talking about?" he asked, only to confirm the Sniper Squad had gotten a glimpse of the man on the deck. "Listen to him. They knew you got him under the scope. He’s not joking."

"But Boss —"

"Do as I say!" Elliot shouted his lungs out, looking around while sprinting his way to one of the containers. Aside from everyone fleeing for their lives, he also saw people on the ship. The sound of gunfires paled in comparison to the tension in the air.

Not everyone chose to run because there were still those who chose to fight. But that didn’t seem to matter anymore. As Elliot finally reached the first container that landed, he jolted as the ground shook once more. The second container landed and from what it seemed, it killed a few dozen of people again. He could only hope it killed none of his men.

When he recovered, he unlocked the heavy locks of the container. It creaked as he pulled it open, holding his breath on instinct, eyes going wide upon seeing its contents.

The content of the first container was... people. And from its pungent and stomach-churning smell, rigor mortis had fully set in.

"These deliveries..." he muttered, wide-eyed. "... is for the Interpol."

Elliot got the hidden message from Hera Cruel during her visit to the Interpol not long ago. She might’ve gone around the circle, but he got the gist of her point. She would give him anyone he wanted in exchange for something she needed. Whatever she needed, he would have to wait.

And these... deliveries were nothing but freebies. An example, or most precisely, a sample of her services.

"Hera Cruel, you are truly hard to fight for," he breathed out, eyes still on the corpses in the container. "Yet, you never fail to remind others that holding your hand is like signing their soul to the devil. Just what do you truly want, and who the hell do you think I should be after?"

This time, Elliot realized one thing.

He would never get the answer unless he risked everything he had; his life, his reputation, and everything he lived for to become... her willing pawn.