OP Absorption
Chapter 85: Anti Hunter Weapons

Chapter 85: Anti Hunter Weapons

Scarlet turned from the groaning suits, her bright, slightly manic smile landing on Meg, who was still sprawled helplessly on the cracked pavement. The residual electric tingling hadn’t faded, locking her muscles, making even breathing a conscious effort.

Pain throbbed behind her eyes and in her shattered nose.

"Hallo!" She chirped, skipping over with that same unsettling, buoyant energy. She crouched down beside Meg, her face alight with genuine, almost inappropriate delight. "You look a bit rough."

Meg tried to reply, to ask who she was, what was happening, but only a choked gasp escaped. The world swam dizzily. This woman... she was dangerous, clearly, but her cheerfulness was almost more jarring than the violence she’d just inflicted.

"Oh, those nasty shocky things," she tutted, noticing the thin cords still technically binding Meg’s wrists, though one cuff now dangled uselessly where the suit had triggered the device. S

he reached out casually, her fingers brushing against the metal. A faint blue spark jumped to her skin, but she didn’t even flinch, seemingly unaffected by the lingering charge that kept Meg immobilized.

With a careless twist of her fingers, the thin, strong cord snapped cleanly. "There," she declared brightly, tossing the broken pieces aside. "All free now! No need to thank me."

Meg cautiously tried to move her hands, flexing her fingers. Pins and needles shot up her arms, but the paralyzing lock was fading. She pushed herself up slightly, grimacing as pain flared anew in her head and jaw. "Who... who are you?" she managed, her voice raspy and weak.

"Me?" She beamed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet again. "I’m nobody’s anymore! Isn’t it wonderful?" She gestured vaguely towards the downed suits, her smile impossibly wide.

"He was such a bore, my old boss. Always ’do this, Scarlet,’ ’kill them, Scarlet.’ So dull!" She spun in a quick circle. "But now I can do whatever I want! Like shooting annoying men in the legs! And breaking their little toys!" She giggled, the sound sharp and slightly unhinged.

Meg’s brain struggled to process this through the fog of pain and confusion. This woman seemed completely unstable, helping her purely on a whim because she felt like it. Before she could formulate another question, the sound of squealing tires ripped through the relative quiet of the deserted industrial park.

A sleek, black van, unmarked but radiating official menace, screeched to a halt at the entrance to the access road, blocking the way back to the highway. Doors slid open with practiced efficiency, and more figures emerged – four this time, all clad in the same dark suits, moving with coordinated precision.

Unlike the first pair, these ones didn’t hesitate, drawing heavy-caliber handguns immediately, their weapons held low and ready as they advanced, spreading out to flank the area behind the warehouse.

She barely spared the arriving van a glance, her attention still fixed on the novelty of her own actions. "More party crashers?" she mused, turning back towards the advancing suits. The giddy smile remained, but her eyes held a predatory gleam now, sharp and assessing.

With a dismissive flick of her wrist, she tossed the handgun aside; it skittered across the pavement, useless metal. In the same fluid motion, her hands blurred towards her thighs, producing twin daggers. Sleek, dark blades, humming faintly, their edges coated in a viscous, glowing purple liquid that pulsed with faint internal light.

Poison? Mana disruption? Something nasty for sure.

The four new operatives fanned out, raising their standard-issue sidearms. Scarlet didn’t wait for them to settle. She hummed, a low, tuneless sound, almost subconscious, and flowed forward.

It wasn’t a run, not exactly. More like a dance woven through lethal intent. She dipped under the first hesitant shots, the bullets sparking harmlessly against the brick wall behind her.

Her movements were liquid grace, unpredictable spins and sidesteps that made tracking her almost impossible. She closed the distance to the nearest suit with startling speed.

A quick pirouette brought her inside his guard. His eyes widened in surprise fractions of a second before the purple-edged blade slid smoothly through his temple, silencing him instantly.

He crumpled without a sound. She didn’t pause, using the momentum of the kill to spin away from his falling body, the dagger already clean.

The remaining three adjusted their aim, trying to box her in. One fired. She twisted, the bullet tugging at her red jacket, and with a casual flick of her left wrist, sent the second dagger flying end-over-end. It struck the operative furthest away squarely in the chest, burying itself to the hilt.

He gasped, clutching at the wound, disbelief etched on his face as he collapsed backward.

Two left.

She retrieved her embedded dagger with another fluid movement, her humming picking up tempo slightly, a cheerful, deadly counterpoint to the groans of the wounded men nearby.

This was easy. Too easy. Varn’s training made these Association grunts look like clumsy children. She couldn’t possibly lose—

The operative closest to the van stopped firing. He glanced down at a device strapped to his wrist. A small screen flashed briefly with stark white text against a black background: APPROVED.

His demeanor shifted instantly. The professional urgency vanished, replaced by something colder, more resolute. He tapped his partner’s arm, nodding curtly.

Both men holstered their sidearms simultaneously. With coordinated movements, they drew new weapons from concealed thigh rigs. Blocky, heavy-caliber pistols, matte black, designed for function over form. The distinct thunk-clack of heavy slides chambering rounds echoed unnervingly in the sudden quiet.

Scarlet stopped humming. Her smile finally faltered, tightening at the edges.

She knew those weapons. Anti-Hunter rounds. Designed specifically to punch through mana shields, disrupt enhanced physiologies, and bring down targets far tougher than baseline humans.

This wasn’t containment anymore. Lethal force authorized.

’Damn it,’ the thought cut through her fading euphoria like ice water. ’This might be bad.’

She crouched lower, the twin daggers held ready, the purple glow reflecting in her suddenly wary eyes. The playful confidence evaporated, replaced by the sharp focus of cornered prey facing superior firepower.

This just got significantly more complicated.

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