Chapter 10: The Mercenary Contract

Tujo sat at a corner console, reviewing data fragments from the decrypted crystal, while Faye meticulously mapped out the root code’s potential location. Kiryu lingered nearby, his mind still racing with the weight of the revelations they had uncovered. He glanced at the holographic projections of the old world—the cracked earth, decimated cities, and a sky choked with ash. That was the reality outside of Paradoxium, the truth the System wanted erased.

Suddenly, a sharp, rhythmic beeping broke the library’s quiet. The sound emanated from a central console, drawing everyone’s attention. Tujo’s face hardened as he rose to check the alert, his movements swift and deliberate.

“What is it?” Kiryu asked, stepping closer.

“Trouble,” Tujo replied, his tone clipped. “The System’s contracted mercenaries. Looks like they’ve picked up our trail.”

Faye’s sharp intake of breath mirrored Kiryu’s unease. “Mercenaries? I thought the System relied on constructs for enforcement.”

“Constructs are fine for keeping the average citizen in line,” Tujo said grimly. “But for people like us? They send something… meaner.” He tapped the console, bringing up a dossier that displayed a series of profiles.

The first image was of a towering figure clad in sleek black armor, their face obscured by a reflective visor. Beside it was a list of combat statistics, tactical achievements, and a bounty that made Kiryu’s stomach churn. Other profiles followed, each more fearsome than the last. These weren’t ordinary operatives; they were elite combatants, hardened by battles both virtual and real.

“Meet the mercenaries,” Tujo said, his voice laced with disdain. “Hand-picked by the System to handle… complications like us. They’ll track us, corner us, and erase us without a second thought.”

“How do we stop them?” Kiryu asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

“We don’t,” Tujo replied bluntly. “Not directly. They’re too good. Our best bet is to stay ahead of them.”

“And if they catch up?” Kiryu pressed.

Tujo’s smirk returned, but it lacked its usual humor. “Then we hope they’re not as good as their reputation.”

Preparations began immediately. Faye coordinated with other Network members to establish false trails and redirect the mercenaries’ attention, while Tujo worked on fortifying the library’s defenses. Kiryu, feeling out of his depth, assisted where he could, his mind racing with questions. Who were these mercenaries? What drove them to align with the System?

As if reading his thoughts, Faye approached him, her expression unusually soft. “You’re wondering why anyone would work for the System, aren’t you?”

Kiryu nodded. “I mean, don’t they see what it’s doing to people? How could they choose to be a part of that?”

Faye sighed. “Not everyone sees the System the way we do. For some, it’s security. Order. A means to survive in a world that’s already lost. And for mercenaries? It’s about the pay. The System rewards loyalty, and in Paradoxium, loyalty often means power.”

Kiryu frowned, her words stirring an uneasy realization. The System’s grip wasn’t just technological; it was psychological, exploiting fear and desperation to maintain control.

By nightfall, the first signs of the mercenaries’ presence began to appear. Network members monitoring external feeds reported anomalies—glitches in the virtual environment that indicated tampering. Kiryu, Tujo, and Faye gathered around a central display, watching as the disturbances crept closer.

“They’re probing the area,” Tujo said, his tone measured. “Looking for vulnerabilities. They’ll find this place eventually, but we’ve got time to move.”

“Move where?” Kiryu asked.

“To one of our fallback sites,” Faye explained. “The Network has contingencies for this kind of situation. We’ll scatter, regroup, and continue from there.”

Tujo nodded. “But we’ll need to cover our tracks carefully. If they trace us to the next location, it’s game over.”

The evacuation was a meticulously coordinated effort. Network members worked in pairs, dismantling equipment and transferring critical data to portable drives. Kiryu assisted with packing up terminals, his hands trembling slightly as the weight of the situation bore down on him.

“Keep it together, kid,” Tujo said, clapping him on the shoulder. “This isn’t the first time we’ve had to run, and it won’t be the last.”

Kiryu managed a weak smile, but his unease remained. The thought of leaving the library—their sanctuary—felt like a loss, a retreat in the face of an enemy they couldn’t confront. But he knew there was no other choice.

As the last of the equipment was packed, Tujo activated a program that began erasing the library’s digital footprint. The warm light of the holographic lanterns dimmed, their glow replaced by the cold, sterile blue of the clearing process. Kiryu watched in silence, a pang of sadness twisting in his chest.

“It’s just a place,” Faye said gently, noticing his expression. “What matters is the people. The Network isn’t this room; it’s all of us, working together.”

Her words offered some comfort, but Kiryu couldn’t shake the feeling that they were leaving behind more than just a location. They were leaving behind a piece of themselves.

The group departed under the cover of darkness, their avatars cloaked in shadows as they navigated Paradoxium’s labyrinthine underbelly. Kiryu stuck close to Tujo, his heart pounding with every step. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional faint sound of distant activity. Were the mercenaries already closing in?

As they reached a narrow corridor that led to a hidden exit, Tujo paused, holding up a hand for silence. Kiryu froze, his breath catching in his throat. He strained his ears, and then he heard it—the faint, rhythmic clink of metal against stone. Footsteps.

“They’re here,” Tujo whispered.

Faye’s expression hardened. “How much time do we have?”

“Not enough,” Tujo said grimly. “We need to move. Now.”

The group quickened their pace, but the footsteps grew louder, closer. Kiryu’s pulse raced as they turned a corner, only to come face-to-face with one of the mercenaries. The figure loomed before them, clad in sleek black armor that seemed to absorb the light. Their visor reflected Kiryu’s shocked expression back at him.

Before anyone could react, Tujo stepped forward, his weapon already drawn. “Go!” he shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll hold them off!”

Kiryu hesitated, his instincts screaming to stay and fight. But Faye grabbed his arm, pulling him down the corridor. “We have to trust him,” she said firmly. “He knows what he’s doing.”

As they ran, the sound of combat erupted behind them—blaster fire, the clash of metal, and Tujo’s defiant shouts. Kiryu’s chest ached with every step, torn between the urge to turn back and the knowledge that their mission depended on him moving forward.

They reached the exit, a hidden portal disguised as a maintenance hatch. Faye activated the mechanism, and the door slid open, revealing a narrow passage that led to one of the Network’s fallback sites. Kiryu glanced back one last time, his heart heavy with guilt and determination.

“We’ll see him again,” Faye said quietly, as if reading his thoughts. “But only if we keep moving.”

With a nod, Kiryu followed her into the passage, the door sealing shut behind them. The fight for Paradoxium’s truth was far from over, and the mercenaries had made one thing painfully clear: the stakes had never been higher.