Chapter 2: The P-Type

The applause from the press conference echoed through speakers and public screens across every corner of the city.

A debate erupted instantly among the crowd. Some supported the creation of a high-performance hunting unit, given how the number of criminals hiding out in the Outlands had grown beyond control, and the Central Government had no intention of sending its own personnel outside the dome to take that risk.

At the same time, the term P-Type, short for Post Human Type, stirred anger among those who believed in equality. Declaring themselves a superior form of humanity, in a world where people were already struggling to hold onto their dignity as humans, became a spark for suspicion and unease.

But amid the heated arguments, some cared about nothing but survival.

Edward was one of them.

He stood in line at the exit gate, stepping forward one pace at a time as the queue slowly shortened.

Edward walked through the rectangular scanning device. The moment he stepped past it, his entire identity profile was pulled up on the officer’s screen in an instant.

[Identity confirmed: Edward Allcroft | Age: 19 | Occupation: Student | Height: 5 ft 9 in | Eyes: Blue | Hair: Brown | Blood Type: B Rh- | Balance: 12,473 Credits]

The screen displayed detailed information about his residence both inside and outside the dome, along with his full family records, all in accordance with strict citizen control regulations.

"Heading out to scavenge again, kid?"

The gate officer called out without even looking away from his screen.

"Yeah. Running a bit low on credits lately, so I figured I’d head out and see if I can find something to sell."

Edward replied, tightening the strap of his backpack.

"Make sure your mask and suit are sealed properly. AQI’s shot past 750 these days, and there’s also those fugitives who got out."

The officer added, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Yeah... that’s exactly why I need to hurry up and earn enough to get a new mask and suit."

The officer let him pass without further questions.

"Alright, move along. Queue 42, Lot 3."

Edward walked over to the group waiting to be released into the outside world. Some were heading out for personal errands, others to visit relatives or gather research data, and the last group was people like him, struggling to scrape together fragments of civilization in exchange for scraps of money.

"Lot 3, queues 1 through 50, get ready!" The officer’s voice rang sharply through the speakers.

Clunk...

The inner gate sealed shut, completely cutting them off from the clean air inside the dome. Then the massive steel door ahead slowly slid open... revealing the hell waiting beyond.

A dull orange light from the collapsed atmosphere poured in immediately. Toxic dust hung thick in the air, choking the visibility down to just a few dozen meters. A faint metallic tang slipped through his mask, but even that was enough to remind him this was not air meant for anything living to breathe.

Ahead, three or four worn-out diesel vehicles sat waiting, along with a heavily modified, rusted bus. Edward boarded the bus without hesitation. He tapped his arm against the sensor to pay the fare, then took a window seat, its surface clouded with scratches.

Vrrrmmm!

The engine rumbled as the bus lurched forward, leaving behind tire tracks in the dust that would soon be erased.

The ruins of the old city began to emerge piece by piece. Towering buildings that once stood proud had long since fallen into decay. Concrete walls had peeled away, exposing corroded steel beneath. Color had been swallowed by layers of dust. Cracked roads split open, with dead branches forcing their way through the gaps... There was no trace of living green here. That kind of life existed only inside the dome.

The bus slowed, then came to a full stop. Edward stepped down onto the ground with a steady footing. He headed straight toward a familiar ruined building, then made his way down into a dim basement thick with the smell of damp decay.

Fwap!

A rough hand yanked away an old cover, revealing a gasoline-powered motorcycle he had hidden outside to avoid the absurd parking fees inside the dome. He popped open the fuel cap to check it, then slammed his foot down on the starter.

Vrrrmmm!

The engine roared to life. He twisted the throttle and shot forward into the vast emptiness of the abandoned land. In a world where people feared stepping beyond the dome’s boundaries, Edward rode alone through the dead remains of civilization like it were second nature.

A large house emerged through the haze of dust. The massive wrought-iron gate was thick with rust. Edward cut the engine, the silence settling in instantly. He left the bike by the gate and walked inside. He began searching deeper into the house, focusing on wooden furniture that cracked open with the slightest pressure, revealing hollow spaces inside. But there was nothing, or at best scraps of paper that had nearly disintegrated.

He searched for quite a while, almost ready to give up, until his eyes caught on a small rectangular metal box, about the size of a parcel, sitting undisturbed on the dusty floor in the deepest part of the hall. There were no signs it had ever been tampered with.

"So this is what they call a safe..."

He muttered, trying to pry it open with the tools he had. But the internal mechanism had degraded over time, making lockpicking impossible. He stared at it for a moment before making up his mind.

"Then I’ll just take the whole thing."

Edward hauled the heavy metal box outside and secured it tightly to the back of his motorcycle with a nylon rope. After that, he decided to head back inside one last time to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.

Whoosh!

Out of nowhere, a sudden burst of movement tore through the silence. Something lunged straight at him with overwhelming force before his eyes could even adjust.

Crash!

Edward’s body was sent flying into a concrete wall, kicking up a cloud of dust. A crushing pain shot across his back, knocking the air out of his lungs for a split second. Acting on instinct, he grabbed onto the wall and forced himself upright, his mind racing to process what had just happened.

"Who the hell are you!"

He shouted, his eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness inside the room.

"Who are you... Are you here to hunt me down?"

Heavy breathing echoed from the shadows. The voice was hoarse, thick with unmistakable paranoia.

"And who the hell are you? You just come flying at me out of nowhere like that?"

Edward shot back, anger flaring as his eyes scanned for cover.

"Don’t tell me... you’re one of the fugitives from the news?"

The shadow in the corner froze for a split second... just long enough for Edward to catch something flicker in the man’s eyes before fear swallowed it completely.

"If you know who I am... then I can’t let you leave alive!"

The shout came out sharp and aggressive, laced with panic, as the figure lunged at him again.

"Hey, calm down! I’m just a scavenger!"

Edward yelled, stumbling back, his body moving on instinct rather than thought.

"Calm down? I’m not letting you tell anyone you saw me!"

The figure charged again, faster than any normal human. Edward twisted aside at the last second, pure instinct saving him as the man crashed straight through the crumbling concrete wall and lost his footing. The impact sent dust and debris exploding into the air.

There was no time to think. Edward bolted out of the house, sprinting straight for his motorcycle. But the mysterious man leapt down from a second-floor window, landing effortlessly right in front of him.

Edward seized the moment and slammed his foot down on the starter. Click... the engine stayed dead silent.

"Damn it! Why now?!"

He cursed, stomping again. The engine sputtered weakly, then died all over again. The man in front of him shifted, ready to rush in and finish him in the next second, but then another shadow cut in between them out of nowhere.

Boom!

The impact blasted a massive hole through the wall. Dust and debris erupted into the air like a miniature storm. The new arrival wore a tight black combat suit, with the P-Type insignia prominently displayed across the chest.

"Kid... you alright?"

A woman’s voice came from another direction. She was dressed in a fitted uniform, walking toward him with steady, deliberate steps. Not rushed, but precise. Every movement felt calculated. Her eyes stayed locked on Edward the entire time she spoke, without even glancing at the man hiding in the shadows.

"Uh... yeah, I’m fine. What the hell is going on?"

"We’re P-Type. My name’s Alicia."

She introduced herself in a flat tone.

"Project 14 Benjamin Wagner, you are under arrest. Comply immediately. Do not force me to escalate."

The P-Type operative who had just launched the attack spoke up. His voice was unnervingly even.

"Heh... 23, is that you? That uniform doesn’t really suit you."

Benjamin smirked as he pushed himself up from the rubble. Even though he was still breathing hard, he managed to stand upright again.

Alicia grabbed Edward and pulled him back out of the engagement zone without asking for his opinion.

"I’ll say this one more time. Project 14 Benjamin Wagner, you are under arrest. Comply immediately. Do not force me to escalate."

23 repeated the same line in the same tone, without a trace of irritation or emotion.

"And what if I choose violence, 23... what then?"

"I was hoping you’d say that. Saves us the trouble of talking."

23 replied as he unlatched his outer heavy armor, stripping it down until only a black T-shirt remained. He carefully set each piece of armor on the ground in neat order.

"23! If possible, take him alive. Command wants information."

Alicia called out, not even turning back. Her eyes continued sweeping the surroundings, scanning every angle with precision.

Benjamin made the first move. He launched himself straight at 23 and drove a punch hard into his face. The impact cracked through the air, loud enough to make Edward flinch instinctively. He knew that wasn’t the kind of strength any normal human could produce.

Crash!

23’s body was sent flying through a wall into the next room. A moment later, he pushed himself back up. His left hand brushed against his cheekbone where the blow had landed, then dropped back to his side. He stepped toward Benjamin again... no frown, no grit of teeth, not even a pause to catch his breath. Just a casual swipe of his hand, wiping a thin line of blood from the corner of his mouth before letting it drip onto the dust-covered floor.

Edward watched, a cold chill crawling down his spine. It wasn’t the pain that was terrifying, it was the complete absence of emotion.

Every punch Benjamin landed carried enough force to cause serious damage, yet 23’s body restored itself every single time. Tissue knit back together, bones snapped into place, bruises faded. All of it happened within seconds.

These things were beyond human.

Edward clenched his jaw. He remembered every word from the government’s reports about the P-Type units, but what he was seeing now was something entirely different. A body that wouldn’t die, speed too fast for the human eye to track, and strength capable of tearing through walls. It was a far cry from the heroic image the state had tried to sell.

"Heh... so you’re just like that guy, aren’t you?"

Benjamin said, breathing heavily. His eyes began to tremble with something unreadable.

"Not even close."

23 replied, his gaze still completely devoid of emotion as he stepped forward without slowing.

Benjamin retreated two steps, then stopped abruptly. In the next instant, his body blurred, and a second figure appeared beside him. Both stood there, identical in every detail, from the tears in their clothing to the shadows in their eyes.

"If one isn’t enough... then I’ll use two!"

"Bring ten if you want. I don’t mind."

23 answered without taking a single step back.

"Did you know, back in the old world, there was a story people used to tell?"

23’s voice cut through the tension. It was so flat it sounded more like a bedtime story than a threat.

"A tale about a two-bodied demon they called a Doppelganger. According to the legend... if someone comes face to face with their double, one of them is bound to die."

"What kind of crap are you talking about?!"

Benjamin snapped back. His breathing grew more frantic, but something in his eyes had clearly shifted. Whether he meant to or not, those words had already taken root in his mind.

Both of Benjamin’s bodies lunged at 23 in a frenzy, but as the seconds passed, something started to feel off. His vision began to blur. Dark sweat poured down his body at an unnatural rate. Every time he threw a punch, his hands trembled slightly. His already labored breathing grew even heavier, doubling in intensity.

23 advanced slowly, completely in control.

"Our bodies already consume more energy than normal. But you, with a split body... before you ran into me, did you even eat anything?"

Benjamin didn’t answer, but the color draining from his face said everything.

"Your vision’s starting to go... isn’t it?"

It wasn’t a question. It was a diagnosis, delivered step by step. Benjamin was losing focus. His hands had gone numb with cold. His heart pounded erratically, squeezing tight in his chest. His breathing turned ragged and broken.

"I don’t even have to do anything now... I can just wait for you to collapse."

Benjamin ignored him. He forced out the last of his strength, sending his duplicate rushing in from behind while his real body charged from the front. But everything froze mid-motion.

Stab!

23 drew a sharp field knife and drove it straight through his own body, guiding the blade clean through to the duplicate lurking behind him.

The duplicate collapsed first, its form flickering before dissolving into nothing. The backlash hit the real Benjamin instantly. He coughed up blood as a matching wound tore open in the same spot. His body staggered, then crumpled to the ground, completely spent.

The wound in 23’s abdomen sealed itself in seconds, leaving behind nothing but a torn, bloodstained shirt. He sheathed the knife without even sparing a glance at the writhing figure on the floor.

"Project 14 Benjamin Wagner resisted arrest. Termination was necessary on-site."

His voice remained flat as he reported through the comm device at his ear.

Tap... tap...

Alicia’s footsteps approached with steady precision before she came to a stop, looking down at Benjamin’s body. Her expression was impossible to read. It wasn’t sorrow, not satisfaction, not pity, but it wasn’t the cold emptiness 23 carried either. It was something in between... something Edward didn’t have the words to describe.

"23."

She spoke the name softly, just that one word. Not a question, not an accusation, but it carried a certain weight.

"Mission complete."

23 replied shortly, without even turning to look at her.

Alicia said nothing more. She turned to meet Edward’s eyes, standing only a few meters away. His hands had stopped shaking, but his heart was still pounding out of rhythm. He glanced at Benjamin’s lifeless body on the dusty floor, then at 23, who stood motionless with the same expression he had worn from the moment he arrived, before looking back at Alicia, who was now watching him.

There was nothing in her eyes that revealed what she intended to do with him, the only witness in this place.