Unholy Player
Chapter 128: The job is done

Chapter 128: The job is done

Adyr didn’t land directly in front of the gates or fly overhead. The upper walls were lined with automated turrets, designed to respond instantly to any threats, including aerial targets. Soldiers patrolled along the ramparts with long-range sniper rifles, scanning the skies and ground with unwavering focus.

He could likely force entry with his current power, but there was no reason to stir up unnecessary alarm.

Touching down at a distance, he retracted his wings and continued on foot toward the perimeter.

After a short walk, he arrived at the outer border checkpoint.

"Halt. State your identity," one of the gate guards ordered. A small squad had stepped forward, their rifles angled low but ready. Despite the STF uniform on his body, their expressions held measured suspicion.

"Adyr, attached to the PTF. I was deployed alongside Captain Kara Vance’s unit—15th Support and Rescue." He raised his hand in a sharp salute as he spoke.

"PTF?" One of the soldiers frowned. They were clearly aware of the division, but not of any active deployment. The lead guard tapped on his wrist tablet, quickly scanning the database. His brow lifted slightly as he looked back at Adyr.

"That unit deployed yesterday afternoon and sent a distress signal not long ago. A secondary convoy was dispatched about 3 hours ago to respond. Why are you alone?"

He studied Adyr’s face carefully. The man looked exhausted—his posture slightly slouched, his breathing controlled but deep. Like someone who had traveled a long distance on foot. But covering that ground in so little time without transport should’ve been impossible.

Naturally, Adyr didn’t mention he had flown. He had no interest in triggering pointless questions or dragging out the procedure. "I was assigned to a side objective. I returned midway through the mission."

The guard glanced down at his tablet again. The mission brief confirmed his presence on record. There were no discrepancies. And considering PTF had only recently been activated, the guard began to piece together the situation: this was likely a field readiness trial. A training op, staged in a real zone, but with controlled expectations. A temporary solo recon to gauge capability.

"Understood. You’re clear to enter. A vehicle will escort you to HQ. Thank you for your service, Private Adyr." The guard gave a crisp salute and stepped aside.

Even if it had been a training mission, Adyr had technically contributed to the city’s perimeter defense. And beyond the wall, even a casual walk through contaminated ground could become fatal under the wrong conditions.

Adyr returned the salute and stepped inside.

Thankfully, the entry protocol hadn’t dragged out. He was already exhausted. Flying nonstop at high speed had drained more energy than expected.

Once past the gates, another soldier in standard border security uniform approached and exchanged a quick salute. Without a word, he gestured to a nearby military vehicle.

He climbed in, and they headed for the heart of the city.

—

"We’re here, Private Adyr. Thank you for your service." The driver’s tone was professional and firm. He waited for Adyr to exit, then turned the vehicle and drove off.

Adyr turned to face the structure ahead.

The headquarters building loomed like a black monolith—tall, silent, and cold. It rose into the sky like a grave marker cast in steel. The wide entrance doors, flanked by reinforced pillars and biometric scanners, resembled the sealed mouth of some ancient fortress.

As he stepped forward, two suited men approached—broad-shouldered, clean-cut, and visibly trained for security.

"Mr. Adyr. Welcome back," one of them said in a formal tone. "If you have a moment, Mr. Bates is expecting you."

Adyr gave a brief nod. Clearly, word of his return had reached HQ in advance.

The incident with the Cannibal was likely still off the record. The mission had taken place deep in a radiation zone where most electronics failed. Apart from a low-frequency distress beacon, reliable communication was nearly impossible in that area.

"Understood," He replied.

He still intended to return to the game soon, but first, there were matters to settle. Speaking directly with Henry Bates would be more efficient.

After taking two elevators and passing through several long corridors, Adyr and the two security escorts reached the executive floor where Henry Bates’s office was located.

When the elevator doors slid open, Henry Bates was already waiting, accompanied by another man.

Rhys Graves stood silently beside him. His short white hair framed a face marked by tension, and his gray eyes—sharp, almost lifeless—locked onto Adyr like he could see something more than just flesh.

"Adyr. Come inside," Henry said immediately, wasting no time. He stepped forward, gripped Adyr by the arm, and guided him into the office. Rhys followed at a slower pace, his footsteps unhurried but deliberate.

Once the door shut behind them and the three were alone, Henry spoke without preamble.

"We got the stress signal 3 hours ago. What happened?"

Just as Adyr expected—the data hadn’t made it this far yet.

"I completed the mission and returned by air," he said.

His voice was no longer tired. The mutant physiology running through him had already flushed out the fatigue, repairing microtears and restoring function at a cellular level. For someone like him, walking—or even just sitting still—was enough to recover.

"Completed the mission? What do you mean, boy?" Rhys asked, his bloodshot eyes narrowing.

Judging by his tone, he already knew what the mission was and why Adyr had been deployed. But even someone like Rhys was caught off guard by the implication.

Adyr didn’t respond. Instead, he gave a faint smile and extended his hand toward the floor.

A flash of distorted energy pulsed—and the Cannibal appeared.

The figure was alive. Conscious. He glanced around the unfamiliar room with disoriented eyes, clearly trying to understand where he was. His body, however, was still too weak to move.

"Let me introduce you," Adyr said, baring his teeth in a sharp, dry grin. "This is the Cannibal."

For a moment, neither Henry nor Rhys spoke.

Even Rhys—unlike Henry, still an active combat commander and widely regarded as the strongest operative within the STF—couldn’t completely mask his reaction.

Taking down the Cannibal in a straight confrontation was something Rhys himself wouldn’t confidently attempt alone. Let alone storming his base, defeating his men, and capturing him alive.

Henry’s expression tightened. Rhys finally looked away from the half-conscious figure on the floor and turned back to Adyr. His breath carried the sharp sting of alcohol as he spoke.

"Henry..." he said, voice low. "Is it still possible for me to play this game?"

Having witnessed the power and growth rate of a 3rd-generation mutant firsthand, he suddenly felt outdated as a 2nd-generation.

"How?" was all Henry could manage to say.

Before the deployment, he had been fully briefed on Adyr’s power profile. Not once had he seriously considered the possibility that Adyr might breach the Cannibal’s base—let alone capture him. At most, he had hoped the boy would gather some intel, maybe take down a guard or two if he got lucky, and then retreat.

Before leaving, Adyr had claimed he would return with the head of the man responsible for wiping out two STF units. Henry hadn’t taken the statement literally.

But now, the Cannibal stood in front of him—alive, restrained, visibly shaken. Not just a head. The entire body.

"Well, there’s something I should report," Adyr said, pulling a Spark out of his pocket—the one he had retrieved from the Cannibal’s body.

"And there’s also something I want from you."

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