Chapter 192 - 175: Night Wandering Ghost Bowen

Lille couldn’t just inject himself with a couple of doses of the Lizard Potion and then go on a rampage.

This time it was different from before. If a Lizard Man ran out of the Biotechnology Building, everyone wouldn’t think it had anything to do with the mercenary.

With this technology, why do anything but become a mercenary?

So in fact, everyone tacitly acknowledged that the Lizard Man was a creation of biotechnology – they really had the technology, and they’d have to carry that burden whether they wanted to or not.

In fact, even the shareholders of biotechnology might suspect that the CEO had secretly created the Lizard Man...

Since that day, Lille hadn’t leaked a single piece of information. Even if he admitted he was the Burger King in the city center, what did the Burger King have to do with the Lizard Man?

So now, if Military Technology was involving the border forces, it was definitely because someone had provided false information.

That the previous commander had to rely on falsifying information to bring in the border forces meant he didn’t have many people left at his disposal.

Since it was a fabrication, the target was the Lizard Man. It was unlikely to be a thorough extermination.

If Lille could come up with a means other than the Lizard Man to deal with this batch of border forces, the same strategic goal could still be achieved, and the effect would be even better.

Lille activated Si Anweisitan – he ran through the bombarded area and into the garage, from where he carried out a large box before heading toward the basement.

The Centaur Mecha was mighty indeed, but without the energy-gathering cannon, it wasn’t impossible to handle for at least a couple of moves – at the very least, delaying them wasn’t an issue.

Burrowing into the rubble, Lille jumped directly into the basement. Cedric was still struggling to drag Jack along.

Lille grabbed Jack in his arms and sprinted inside.

"Cedric, stay here and keep watch. Report anything to me immediately!"

Lille, swift as the wind, carried Jack into the Night Wandering Ghost’s surgical room, donned the prosthetic surgeon’s gloves, and plugged in his personal link for biological monitoring.

The equipment here was somewhat outdated, but it was sufficient for Lille’s needs.

Jack struggled to open his eyes, "Uh... Lille... where are we?"

"Surgical room. Listen, Jack, you wanted the good stuff, right? I’m going to fit you with a rage component, custom-made just for you."

Lille cut open Jack’s ruptured joint. Blood, prosthetic lubricant, and synthetic blood plasma sprayed everywhere.

Lying on the surgical table, Jack looked at the dim lights and forced a smile, "That’s freaking awesome... It’s just that I feel like... this seems familiar, doesn’t it?"

"You’ve been through it before. Last time, James Norris cut off your arm, and then you were jumping around again. It will be the same this time."

"Heh... you don’t need to comfort me, really – V, and you, you two... are the brothers I trust the most..."

As his blood drained away, Jack’s consciousness began to fade rapidly.

"You too, brother – It’s all on you now."

...

Cedric’s movements were much slower. Having recovered over the past few days, he could gradually do away with his crutches.

But when he thought of his former self compared to who he had become, bitterness inevitably filled his heart.

Fortunately, there were still things he could do.

Be vigilant.

Perhaps others at this time would think there was no need to worry, setting all their sights on the outside world, on the Military Technology and that Centaur Mecha.

But Cedric always remembered one name in his mind: Bowen.

Cedric, holding an old-fashioned revolver in his hand, swept cautiously outside the surgical room, checking boxes and cabinets large enough to conceal a person.

The freezer... nothing.

Toolboxes... nothing.

Under the bed... nothing.

Time and again confirmation brought no relief, he remained on alert.

Then the wardrobe, the equipment locker, even the pile of garbage—

One, two, three...

Nothing at all.

Cedric turned his attention to the last unopened pharmaceutical cabinet in the prosthetic doctor’s surgical room —

Even though it didn’t look like it could hide a person.

The barrel of the gun gently pressed against the metal door...

Squeak—

Nothing.

Cedric’s tension eased slightly, then he turned around—

Bowen was right in front of him, grinning with his eyes squinted into crescents, resembling the shape of a waxing moon.

Cedric’s breath caught, this scene seemed eerily familiar, suddenly transporting him back to that betrayal more than twenty years ago.

It was like a cyber-mental breakdown, witnessing the ghosts of days gone by.

"Hello there, old friend."

Bang!

But this was no cyber delusion!

A tremendous force punctured his abdomen and spread to his innards; the pain was so intense he couldn’t speak, and his vision rapidly darkened—

Just like the betrayal 30 years ago...

...That same loathsome smirk!

Somehow, Cedric tapped into an unknown reserve of strength, grabbed Bowen’s clothes, and swung his fist!

Thump.

However, such a blow was nothing to Bowen.

"Haha... have you really turned into a cripple? Here I was, hiding in the wall waiting for half a day, and you’ve become a cripple! The Butcher of the Mexican border?!"

Bowen grabbed Cedric’s hand, lifting him up like a little chick.

Cedric’s vision was fading, but he never let go of his revolver, using all his strength to align the muzzle...

But Bowen crushed the revolver in one squeeze!

"Shh—don’t shoot. Your friend is in there having surgery, although I don’t know what that means at this point.

Military Technology would definitely be very interested."

Bowen effortlessly crushed Cedric’s palm, while his other hand reached into Cedric’s mouth, gripped his tongue and chin, and violently pulled!

Crack!

Broken bones, synthetic materials, and tongue tangled together.

His fingers blocked the windpipe, making Cedric unable to utter a sound.

Pain assaulted Cedric’s nerves, his eyes were frantically bloodshot, breathing fast and heavy, but he remained conscious!

"Impressive, old friend. This time you didn’t black out. But I suggest you do pass out.

Or do you feel that you betrayed the trust of our people that year, and it makes you sad? It’s been so many years, you should have forgotten by now."

Bowen’s tone was regretful, his head lowered and shaking as if he truly felt sorry.

But he quickly reverted to that signature fake smile: "I’d all but forgotten how thrilling that little bastard was!

But it was he who showed me how exhilarating it is to fuck a pure biological child! I’ll always remember that!

No woman can compare to him, and your woman, she was like a zombie in bed, no reaction at all—

Oh, I forgot, she was already dead by then!

What did you say?"

Bowen pulled his fingers back slightly, and a chilling gurgle of blood came from Cedric’s throat...

"Heh..."

Then he stuffed his fingers back in!

"Haha, how amusing, The Butcher of the Mexican Border sucking on my fingers like a dog. But I need to get inside to deal with your friend.

You, if you don’t want to black out as you did last time, just watch."

Smack.

Released, Cedric was weaker than before, his already frail body made even more so by the congestion in his lungs—

But from somewhere he found a bit of strength, and with his heel against the wall, he slammed into Bowen, who was turning away, mouth filled with blood...

Smack.

Bowen kicked back, shattering Cedric’s legs.

"I’ve seen that move before; Hector, that old fool, played it on TV. You didn’t think I’d be caught off guard by that, did you?

Goodbye, brother—though for a weakling like you, this is probably the end."

Cedric’s hand clawed at Bowen’s heel but couldn’t hold on.

He was very weak.

In his final moments, a voice reached his ears:

"...You’re insane!!!"

"Aaahhh!!!"

Bang! Bang! Bang—

The sounds of gunshots, fighting, impacts.

Cedric could barely see anything anymore, but he could make out that Bowen’s footsteps had stopped.

What would happen next was up to the younger ones...

But... he really wanted to see this bastard ground into mincemeat.