Chapter 32: Chapter 32: Logic in the Dead End and The Painful Truth

That night, Bakasa turned into a hunting ground.

Magic alarms across the High District screamed loudly. Searchlight beams from guard towers swept the streets like giant eyes searching for prey.

Dayat and Dola ran through the labyrinth of the border night market. Dayat was panting heavily. His expensive suit was torn at the shoulder, and his shoe had lost one heel.

“They… are too many…” Dayat gasped, hiding behind a pile of wine barrels.

“Tactical Analysis: The pursuit is carried out by two separate units,” Dola reported quickly. “Unit A is tracking our physical trail. Unit B (led by Valmir) is using magic tracking. We cannot run together. Our running pattern is too easily predicted.”

“So?”

“We must separate. I will be the decoy.”

“No! No decoys! We stick together!” Dayat refused fiercely.

“Master,” Dola held Dayat’s face with both hands. Her eyes stared intently. “Valmir wants me. Alaric wants me. If I run East (towards the Great Bridge), they will follow me. Master runs West (towards Kancil’s Sewer). Master will be safe.”

“But you…”

“I can take care of myself. I will meet Master at the Safe House (Dalgor’s workshop) in 1 hour. Trust your Wife.”

Before Dayat could object, Dola kissed Dayat’s cheek briefly—a kiss that felt warm and wet (sweat?), not cold like a machine.

Then, Dola bolted out of hiding. She deliberately knocked over a pile of fruit baskets.

CRASH!

“There she is! The Woman!” shouted a guard.

“Chase her! Ignore the male! The Count wants the woman!” shouted Valmir, leading the squad.

The swarm of guards turned to chase Dola, leaving Dayat alone in the darkness. Dayat clenched his fists, restraining himself from yelling, then turned and ran toward the sewer.

Dola ran fast. Very fast.

Her bio-synthetic heart pumped purple-red blood (a mix of coolant and hemoglobin) throughout her carbon-fiber reinforced leg muscles. She leaped over carts, climbed brick walls, and slid across rooftops.

But she wasn’t running to escape. She was running to lure them in.

She deliberately slowed down at corners. She deliberately left a trail of torn fabric.

She herded them to Sector 4 Dead End Alley. A dead end surrounded by the high walls of an abandoned textile factory. The perfect spot for a confrontation without witnesses.

Dola reached the end of the alley. A ten-meter high brick wall blocked the way. She turned around.

At the alley entrance, Valmir stood panting, flanked by five elite guards in black armor.

“Out of breath, Beauty?” Valmir smirked, pulling out a short magic staff from under his robe. “Just surrender. Count Alaric doesn’t like his property damaged.”

Dola stood tall. She tidied her messy silver hair. Her face returned to its flat, cold mode.

“Situation Analysis: Subject Valmir and 5 subordinate units. Exit route closed. Physical win probability: 45%. Psychological win probability: 98%.”

“You are not chasing me because of duty,” Dola said, her voice echoing in the narrow alley. “You are chasing me because of your master’s lust. Pathetic.”

Valmir laughed. “Sharp tongue you have. Too bad it won’t save you. Who do you think you are? The great Engineer’s wife? Hah! Your husband is just a lucky sewer rat.”

Valmir stepped forward.

“You know, Dola… I wonder. What makes you so special? Why is Alaric so obsessed? Is your skin made of silk? Or…”

Valmir aimed his staff. The tip of the staff glowed a dirty green.

“…do you have another secret?”

Dola tilted her head. “You want to know my secret, Mr. Valmir?”

“Of course. Come closer. Kneel, and maybe I will whisper sweet words to the Count so he won’t be too rough on you tonight.”

Dola smiled. A smile that made the guards’ hair stand up. It wasn’t a scared smile. It was the smile of a predator seeing prey walk into a trap.

“You miscalculated,” Dola said.

“Miscalculated what?”

“You assumed I was afraid of you. Whereas, the only reason I ran was so that I wouldn’t have to kill you in front of my husband. He… doesn’t like seeing blood.”

Dola took one step forward.

“But he is not here now.”

Dola’s eyes changed.

The blue light in her irises dimmed, replaced by Crimson Red. Not the light of an LED lamp, but the bioluminescent glow of blood vessels in her eyes widening due to Overdrive combat mode.

Valmir took a step back. “Your eyes… are you using a strengthening spell?”

“Not magic. This is Execution Mode.”

“Seize her!” Valmir shouted in panic.

The two front guards charged forward with spears.

Dola did not dodge. She caught the tip of the first spear with her bare hand.

CRACK!

The sound of bone hitting metal. But it wasn’t Dola’s hand that broke. The spear’s wooden shaft shattered into pieces in her grip.

Dola pulled the guard closer, then slammed her knee into the guard’s chest.

THUD!

The guard’s iron armor dented inwards. The guard vomited blood and passed out instantly.

The second guard swung his sword. Dola ducked, then swept the guard’s legs. As the guard fell, Dola stomped on his wrist. CRACK.

The remaining three guards backed away in fear.

“Monster…” one of the guards whispered. “That strength… that’s not human!”

Valmir trembled. He raised his staff, casting a fireball spell.

“Die, you Bitch!”

SWOSH! The fireball flew.

Dola couldn’t dodge in the narrow alley. The fireball hit her squarely on the left shoulder.

BOOM!

Smoke billowed. The smell of burning flesh filled the air.

Valmir smiled smugly. “Hah! Got you! Burnt to—”

Valmir’s smile vanished as the smoke thinned.

Dola was still standing.

Her blue gown on the left shoulder was burnt away. The white skin on her shoulder was blistered and peeled badly, revealing what lay beneath.

Valmir’s eyes widened. He expected to see bone or charred flesh.

But what he saw was Dark Red Muscle Tissue pulsing alive, interwoven with gleaming Silver Metal Fibers. No cables. No green circuits. Just a terrifying, perfectly fused blend of flesh and metal.

The blood dripping from the wound was deep red, but mixed with a purple fluid that hissed when it hit the ground.

“What… what are you?” Valmir backed away until his back hit the wall. “You’re not human… You’re not a Golem… You’re…”

“I am the Future you forgot,” Dola replied coldly.

She touched her wound. The red muscle tissue moved by itself, weaving back the torn skin at a speed visible to the naked eye (Nano-Regeneration).

“And you, Mr. Valmir, are a Variable that is no longer needed.”

Dola raised her hand toward the streetlamp above the alley.

[Hacking Protocol: Area Blackout.]

Dola emitted an extremely powerful Mana jamming signal from her body.

ZZZTTT!

The streetlamp exploded.

The alley became completely dark.

Only the panicked screams of the guards, the sound of breaking bones, and Valmir’s horrified shriek could be heard.

“NO! DON’T COME CLOSER! AAAARGH!”

…

One minute later.

Dola walked out of the dark alley. She tidied her hair. Her gown was torn, but she covered it with a scarf she took from one of the unconscious guards.

She did not kill them. Dayat would not like that.

But she ensured Valmir would not be able to hold a magic staff again anytime soon (all his fingers were broken), and the guards would suffer lifelong psychological trauma about the “Red-Eyed Ghost”.

“Target neutralized. Escape route: Clear,” Dola mumbled, her eyes returning to calm blue.

She walked quickly toward the meeting point, leaving Valmir whimpering in the darkness, lamenting his fate for waking a sleeping monster.

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