It is just that I happened to be here.

Amid the roar of gunfire from the other side, Karl was not surprised to hear the sound of artillery. When he heard the first shot, he immediately recognized it as the sound of a projectile launching system.

The projectile launching system: a cybernetic limb enhancement that functions as a handheld grenade launcher.

Karl recalled that when activated, this prosthetic would spring out from the arm like a mantis blade or a monomolecular wire, essentially raising a turret from the arm itself. Then, guided by the user’s aim, it would fire a grenade or missile directly from the arm.

He had once considered buying such a prosthetic but hesitated due to the high cost. The launcher itself was moderately priced among arm cybernetic enhancements, but the real expense lay in the ammunition. Miniature grenades or missiles were neither easy to acquire nor reusable—they were single-use, and replacing them was costly. A poor mercenary like him simply couldn’t afford that.

For these assailants to be firing grenades and missiles, even miniaturized ones, they were certainly spending lavishly—it was a clear sign of wealth.

Still, Karl was puzzled. Earlier, they had been firing rocket launchers with abandon. Why switch now to the prosthetic launcher, whose grenades and missiles were less powerful than rockets? A few well-placed rockets could have easily demolished this three-story shop.

Then, on second thought, none of the previous rockets had been aimed directly at the vehicle.

Were they intending to capture the target alive and unharmed?

No—considering the distance between the rockets and the vehicle, it was likely the target wouldn’t remain unscathed, just breathing.

His mind raced, but his legs could only carry him so fast. Compared to cybernetic augmentations, his legs were unmodified flesh, and he was already panting as he ran—there was no way he could sprint quickly.

When Karl reached the convenience store’s back door, he found it deserted.

Strange.

Karl was taken aback. Even if the Arisaka security team had taken refuge here in an emergency to protect their charge, they were professionals. Their duty should not be abandoned. At the very least, someone should be guarding the back door. What were they thinking? Weren’t they worried that the attackers or the Whirlpool Gang might circle around?

All these doubts were answered the moment Karl entered the convenience store from the rear.

The target was injured.

And seriously enough that she couldn’t leave.

As Karl appeared, the Arisaka security personnel, tense and anxious, instinctively raised their weapons, ready to shoot. But upon seeing Karl raise his hands and recognizing him, they hesitated.

“You’re... the mercenary we hired?”

They had been watching Karl’s performance earlier and were quite impressed.

“Mercenary?”

Protected by the Arisaka guards and dressed in a cherry blossom-colored kimono, the target came into view before Karl.

She appeared to be a young girl, about Karl’s age, slender with long, silky black hair cascading down her back. Her face was pretty, but that beauty paled beside her eyes.

Those eyes—deep and vast like the night sky, as if stars were reflected in their pupils.

Such beautiful eyes.

Karl wondered if they were artificial.

That was his first thought upon seeing her, along with noticing the wound on her abdomen.

She was pressing tightly on the injury, from which fresh blood steadily welled, staining her cherry blossom kimono with a deep crimson underlay beneath its soft pink and white.

Had she been shot while dodging?

“Why hasn’t she been treated yet?”

Karl could not understand why the Arisaka security team was simply surrounding and protecting the target, growing anxious but not attempting any medical aid. Didn’t they realize that if the bleeding continued, the target would bleed out like America’s first president? Would she die from blood loss?

“We...” one of the guards stammered anxiously, forcing his expression into control. Then he said something that struck Karl as insane: “We cannot touch the lady. If we touch her body, her family will be in danger...”

He glanced shamefully at the lady he was protecting. “If we fail in our duty, the one who dies will be me.”

“Damn it, what kind of feudal nonsense is this? Aren’t you a capitalist company? Can you stop being so backward?”

Karl was both amused and exasperated. He’d heard stories about princesses who couldn’t be touched after falling into water, or else the entire family would perish. He never thought he’d actually encounter such a thing.

“It’s the great-grandfather’s will. Don’t blame them—they cannot defy him.”

The girl’s face grew paler with blood loss and injury, but when she looked at Karl, she still held herself with the dignified grace of a noble lady.

“My luck ran out. I didn’t notice the bullet when getting out of the car. I failed the trial. The injury was an accident, but the great-grandfather’s trial must not be stopped—I have dragged them down...”

She glanced at Karl. “And you as well.”

“Talking to a suicide mission like that—so this really is some kind of trial. I knew there was fierce family infighting, but a test that kills people and drags others down too? That’s really something.”

To you, the lives of the lower class mean nothing. No, even the security personnel die. To you corporate rulers, only your own family’s lives matter.

Wait, that’s not quite right. This great-grandfather’s trial seems to encompass even the life of this young lady.

“I carry half the bloodline of the sinful country... If I cannot pass this trial and become part of the family, then it is fate.”

Cherry blossoms born of chrysanthemum and rose—the very emblem of the target.

Watching her gradually calm, as if resigned to death, Karl felt a surge of indescribable disgust rise within him.

What kind of test is this that kills so many? And when you die, you accept death so easily?

If you die, others outside will die too!

Brown and the others will die, Jack, Mann, and Oliver will die!

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