System S.E.X. (Seduction, Expansion, eXecution)-Chapter 332: Zero Survivors
Outside the Royal Tower, the street had been transformed into a mechanized slaughterhouse. The "Iron Curtain" protocol was no longer just a defense; it was an executioner. The automated turrets hidden in the masonry fired with a cold, precision that no human could match. Every time a cluster of mercenaries tried to regroup, a hail of lead from a Royal building or a burst from a hovering Falcon helicopter turned them into a memory.
The air was thick with the scent of cordite, burning rubber, and the metallic tang of blood. Thompson’s police force, emboldened by the arrival of the Royal air support, pushed through the wreckage.
"Drop the weapon! Hands behind your head!" a police officer shouted, pinning a young gang member against a burning car.
The mercenary, terrified and realizing the "bounty" was a lie, threw his rifle aside and dropped to his knees. He raised his hands, shaking. "I surrender! I surrender! Please—!"
Thwip.
A single high-velocity round entered the side of the mercenary’s head, exiting in a spray of red against the police officer’s riot shield. The officer jumped back, looking around wildly for the source, but there was nothing. No muzzle flash, no sound—only the silent efficiency of a long-range reaper.
Ten meters away, three more hitmen tried to throw down their guns. Before the police could even reach for their handcuffs, three more silent shots rang out. The men collapsed like puppets with their strings cut.
Thompson, watching from the safety of his armored Jeep, felt his blood run cold. He scanned the distant rooftops through his binoculars but saw only the shimmering heat of the city’s fires. Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked at the screen; it was the same encrypted number that had been guiding him during Ethan’s absence—the ghost voice that had managed Royal’s empire while the boss was away.
The message was brief and chillingly final:
[0 SURVIVORS. NO QUARTER.]
Thompson gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He knew this wasn’t just a tactical decision; it was a statement. Ethan wasn’t looking for prisoners. He wasn’t looking for information. He was looking to erase the very idea that Royal could be touched.
"Governor! They’re trying to surrender in Sector 3! What are the orders?" the Police Chief shouted over the radio, his voice cracking with hesitation.
Thompson looked at the message one last time, then out at the chaos. He thought of the children in the hospitals, the civilians caught in the crossfire, and the betrayal of the Federal government. His face hardened, the last of his political hesitation burning away.
"There are no prisoners today, Chief. Not for this," Thompson said.
"Sir?"
"You heard me! There is no mercy for terrorists! If they are on the street with a weapon or a Black Skull mark, you put them down! Clear the city! Zero survivors!" Thompson roared into the comms.
The police, fueled by their own rage and the Governor’s mandate, stopped reaching for their zip-ties. The rebellion of the underworld was being snuffed out, not by law, but by an absolute, terrifying authority.
Only a few hours had passed, but in that time, North End had ceased to be a city and had become an ossuary. No enemy survivors remained; Crul’s orders and Thompson’s resolve had erased every last trace of the mercenaries. However, the cost of victory was a scar that would not heal for decades.
The streets were a labyrinth of twisted iron and charred concrete. Months of rebuilding, of generating trust, and of dreaming of a utopia under Royal’s command had been reduced to ash. But the worst part wasn’t the buildings; it was what lay among the rubble.
Crul, fulfilling its duty to report, projected the images directly into Ethan’s mind. The young leader closed his eyes, but he couldn’t escape the vision: the bodies of fallen mothers who, in a final act of desperate love, had tried to cover their little ones with their own bodies. But the mercenaries’ high-caliber bullets understood nothing of sacrifice; they had pierced through the mothers’ flesh to silence the lives they were protecting as well.
"I have to get some air..." Ethan said, his voice broken, covering his face with both hands.
They were in an empty mansion on the outskirts, a safe house Crul had quickly activated since Royal’s headquarters was now little more than a smoking ruin. The atmosphere in the room was heavy, thick with the smell of smoke that still clung to their clothes.
Jason, who thanks to Ethan’s potion moved with a renewed vitality that contrasted with his somber gaze, stood up and adjusted his gear.
"Chief, I apologize, but I can’t stay here. My people are still out there, Thompson is dealing with the chaos, and someone has to bring order to that hell. I can’t afford the luxury of resting while they are still in the breach," Jason said.
Lena and Cassandra approached Ethan, grabbing his arms with concern.
"Please, be careful... don’t risk yourself like that again," Lena said, her eyes tearing up.
"I’ll be back soon. Under no circumstances leave this place. It’s safe; Crul has total control of the surveillance systems and the automatic turrets in this perimeter. If anything comes within a kilometer, it will be vaporized," Ethan said, giving them a quick kiss before walking toward the exit.
Ethan left the mansion with a heavy step, each footprint leaving a mark of dried blood on the marble. He walked straight to the armored truck they had arrived in, which still bore the scars of the ambush. Jason was already in the passenger seat, loading a new rifle.
"Crul, tell me where the remaining pockets of resistance are. I don’t want a single Black Skull man left breathing this city’s air," Ethan said, starting the engine with a violent roar.
[[Understood, Master. There are three groups of insurgents entrenched in the port sector and an elite unit trying to flank Thompson’s position. Sending navigation coordinates... now,]] Crul replied.
Ethan accelerated, leaving the refuge behind to plunge back into the smoke of war, seeking a redemption he would only find in the total annihilation of those who had wounded his city.
