BATTER 30

The hunch was carried by instinct and solidified into certainty. He could recognize the man instinctively, the way a one-eyed hunter recognizes the wolf that mauled him. It was the very same bastard who had attacked him and Liz that night. Why was he here? Was he connected to this suspicious tycoon? How could Paul Xavier and Baron Lin have managed to get under the skin of a big shot so cautious he barely made public appearances?

His heart, expanded as if to burst, hammered right against his ear canals. He heard a massive drumming that made his pupils dilate. Excitement and joy boiled his blood at a rhythmic thumping that sounded like a signal for war. But there was no need to reveal it just yet. He mustn’t. It was better to act as if he hadn’t noticed at all.

Baron hid his hands behind his back, interlacing his fingers and repeatedly clenching and unclenching them. His fingertips cycled between burning hot and ice cold. Meanwhile, the deal between the teacher and the client’s representative was nearing its end.

“Fine. This is indeed the android we’ve been looking for. To think—not even the best mercenaries could find him, yet somehow you…”

“In any case, it worked out. Now, it’s time for you to hand over the promised payment.”

“Yes, we should discuss the compensation.”

The man gave a hand signal to a nearby bodyguard, who brought over a heavy briefcase from inside the vehicle.

“That fellow over there will give you the reward. Lead him inside. Given the amount, we can’t exactly do this out in the open.”

“I doubt you’ll find the place very comfortable.”

“He isn’t being humble, he’s being literal. You should take him seriously,” Baron interjected in a casual tone. Neither of the two men was in a state relaxed enough to care about jokes. The man reached a firm conclusion.

“Take him inside.”

Since the money was still in their hands, the teacher had no choice but to comply. The man’s party and Bijou boarded the vehicle first, while one bodyguard holding the money bag entered the container. Since it was still sleeping hours, all the children were in the bedroom. The guard looked around at the squalid conditions before finding a relatively clean chair to sit in. The teacher sat opposite him, maintaining as dignified a posture as possible.

“Open it. It’s the 100 million we promised.”

The teacher’s hand trembled slightly as he took the bag. He slowly opened it with shaking fingers. Having only the use of his left hand was bad enough, but the pathetic trembling made it impossible to pull the latches. Baron stood nearby, looking down at the teacher’s efforts, when his restlessly tapping toe kicked something soft. It was a large, tattered brown teddy bear. He tucked the pitiful doll under his arm and turned back to the teacher, who still hadn’t managed to open the bag.

“Teach, want me to open that for you?”

“I’m fine. I’m just not used to using my left hand.”

Click. Finally, the teacher succeeded in opening the bag. His palms, slick with tension, were soaking wet. Inside the bag, finally revealed, were stacks of bills as thick as encyclopedias, packed tightly together. The teacher pulled out one bundle. He randomly pulled a single bill from the middle and scanned it slowly. As he scrutinized the note from left to right, his face turned so pale it looked blue. The teacher dropped the bill carelessly. Thud.

“It’s counterfeit.”

“Good grief, no conscience at all.”

Baron also pulled out a bill and held it up to the light. Anyone with half an eye could tell it was a crude forgery. They never had any intention of paying. That meant they only had one plan left. Baron turned his head with a smirk. The long muzzle of a rifle was already aimed at the teacher.

BANG—.

A long, deafening gunshot pierced the air. Simultaneously, something scattered through the room. Shards of shredded brown cloth and clumps of cotton sprayed everywhere like falling snow. Before a scream could even be uttered, another shot followed immediately. This time, the sound came from a different direction. A few steps away from where the teacher sat, Baron, aiming a pistol, darted his eyes around quickly.

The first shot must have woken the kids, as faint cries and screams drifted from beyond the wall. Ah, I really need to end this quickly. Baron pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession. Along with the intense muzzle blasts came the sound of something thudding repeatedly to the floor.

“Agh, aah, aaagh…!”

The bodyguard collapsed, huddling on the floor while clutching his hand. The teacher spotted pale lumps of flesh fallen on the reddened floor. Fingers, severed by bullets, were twitching like dying fish hauled onto dry land. Having dropped his gun along with his fingers, the guard writhed in agony.

Baron strode toward him and grabbed the guard firmly by the hair. He forced the head up high and slammed it into the floor several times. When the man was no longer capable of even screaming, Baron released him with a toss. Bloodshot whites were visible through half-closed eyes. The teacher, still clutching his broken arm, stammered a beat late.

“…Is he dead?”

“That won’t kill him. Just knocked out. Well, probably?”

Baron placed a finger under the guard’s nose. A faint moisture was present. He dusted off his hands and gave a bright smile.

“Yep, he’s alive. As long as the bleeding is stopped, he’ll stay that way. Anyway, you deal with this fellow, teach.”

It’s generally bad for the kids’ psyche, right? Spitting the words out quickly, he immediately threw open the door leading outside. The teacher might have said something after that, but Baron didn’t hear it properly as he dashed out. Baron ran fast toward the van. Realizing the situation upon seeing Baron emerge alone, the transport vehicle, which had kept its engine running, immediately began to take off. As the craft rose into the air, Baron shouted urgently.

“Wait, stop!”

Hearing the shout, Bijou whipped his head around. His braided blonde hair swayed in the opposite direction. He smiled clearly and waved his hand.

“It seems he has something to say to me for a moment.”

“I suppose so,” the middle-aged man replied in a polite but dry tone. He then gave a slight nod of his chin toward the bodyguard sitting next to Bijou. The chin and the gaze pointed, of course, at Baron. Every action was carried out dryly and swiftly. Without a word, the guard aimed his muzzle toward the ground. Baron’s face appeared in the center of the sniper rifle’s scope. A clear crosshair was etched over the center of the brown iris seen through the scope, and the trigger was pulled repeatedly.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Under the hot, heavy impact, Baron’s neck snapped backward. One shot to the left eye, and another to the forehead above it. Direct hits. A red spray erupted. The retreating silhouette staggered and finally collapsed to the ground. Bijou’s eyes flew open, wide with horror. It was an unfamiliar expression, one Baron likely hadn’t seen. His lips moved soundlessly before he finally managed to make a sound.

“Bill—!”

The man forcibly blocked Bijou as he tried to lean out of the open door. Only after the door was closed did the arm blocking Bijou relax. The free, thin shoulders shuddered and trembled violently. The trembling that started at the shoulders spread throughout his entire body as if riding the flow of blood.

On his quivering cheeks, drops of water of unknown flavor—likely water mimicking tears—dripped down. The tears caught on the curves of his cheeks and the rims of his eyes fluttered in the wind. Eyes overflowing with moisture, heartbreakingly so to any observer, snapped toward the man.

“Why did you shoot that man? Why?”

“He didn’t come out alone, did he? He emerged after killing our guard. He likely intended to harm us as well. I ask for your understanding.”

“But…”

Every time those eyelids blinked, water droplets rolled down. Watching the machine sob, the man placed a hand on his shoulder and calmed him down.

“Compose yourself. There are such things as unavoidable deaths.”

As the hand wrapped around his shoulder, Bijou curled inward. He asked in a somber voice:

“Who are you people?”