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墨書 Inktalez
Mark's car swiftly entered the Mistwood area, the streets gradually swallowed by the night and low-hanging fog, the surroundings dim and blurry. The location of Warehouse X17 was adjacent to Jicheng Port, where the iconic buildings of the port and countless neatly arranged Containers were faintly visible in the distance. The sea breeze hit him head-on, carrying a heavy saltiness and a fishy stench, as if the air itself was permeated with the odor of decaying fish, making it uncomfortable to breathe.
Mark frowned slightly, gripping the steering wheel as he slowly maneuvered into a narrow alley beside the port. His gaze was sharp as a knife; with the decreasing speed of the car, he meticulously memorized his surroundings. He carefully observed the layout of the warehouses, his eyes scanning over the massive structures and the scattered stacks of Containers along the port, quickly constructing a simple map in his mind.
He parked in a secluded corner, turned off the engine, and switched off the headlights. The night enveloped him in shadows, like a lurking leopard. Sitting in the car, he cast his eyes toward Warehouse X17 not far away. It was a large building, its iron exterior covered in rust from years of exposure to sea winds, with dim yellow light spilling from its windows and crevices, outlining its interior.
Mark's attention was soon drawn to the giant Container cranes nearby. These steel behemoths stood silently at the edge of the port like sleeping beasts in the night. Their tall arms, heavy cables, and sturdy bases were their defining features. While they were typically used for moving Containers, to Mark, this place represented an ideal opportunity for a breakthrough.
"A frontal assault; the crane is my best entry point," he muttered to himself, a cold smile curling at his lips.
The position of the Container cranes was close to the port's edge, providing a relatively open line of sight. The height of the crane arms would allow him to avoid detection from ground patrols, while the cables and control panels served as natural cover. Once he ascended to the crane, he could launch an attack from above, not only controlling the situation within the warehouse but also creating chaos using the crane itself to suppress Snakebite Gang's firepower within a limited area.
Mark opened the car door, and a damp chill from the sea breeze rushed in. He took a deep breath; the salty smell filled his lungs but sharpened his focus. He gently patted his backpack to confirm that the explosives and grenades inside were intact before slinging his Rifle over his shoulder. The coldness on his face mingled with battle intent, forming an aura akin to that of a beast.
"Tonight, this port will become their grave," he whispered as he stepped into the night, his gaze firmly fixed on the nearby Container crane.
With his backpack filled with firearms and explosives strapped on, Mark began to climb up the steel staircase of the giant Container crane step by step. The cold metal handrail felt biting against his skin in the damp sea wind; each step echoed with metallic sounds that intertwined with his hand's friction against it—this was the only sound in the night. The wind howled more fiercely as if invisible hands were trying to push him away from this towering steel giant.
He remained unfazed, firmly gripping the handrail while lowering his body against the strong wind, keeping his eyes locked on the control room at the top of the crane. This would be his first battlefield and also his best vantage point for orchestrating everything.
In his earpiece, Cat 199's voice rang out again—altered yet clearly filled with surprise: "Wow~ Master Mark, you really are one-of-a-kind! A crane? This is my first time seeing someone launch an assault like this! Truly impressive; your way of thinking is just different from ordinary people!" The tone was playful yet tinged with curiosity and excitement.
Mark let out a cold grunt without responding; instead, he continued steadily climbing higher without hesitation. The fierce sea wind seemed unable to affect his balance or speed. His fingers tightened slightly around his backpack straps as he mentally began planning details for what lay ahead.
Finally, he climbed to the top of the hoist, the metal door of the control room just within reach. He paused, leaning against the metal structure of the hoist, gazing down at the port and the warehouse not far away. There, lights flickered, and he could vaguely see the guards of the Snakebite Gang patrolling, while a few trucks parked nearby were almost certainly loaded with weapons ready for transport.
He activated his earpiece, effortlessly climbing into the control room while coldly asking, "Is the employer sure they want to make a big noise?" His tone was calm and deep, yet tinged with a hint of excitement, as if he could hardly wait to ignite this hellish fire.
The voice of Cat 199 quickly responded, playful and provocative: "Of course, Master Mark~ The mission target should be like a party, meow~ The bigger the explosion, the livelier it gets; the happier the employer will be!"
A cold smile crept across Mark's lips as he looked through the glass window of the control room, surveying the entire port. His hand reached into his backpack, feeling for explosives and detonators; his fingertips pressed slightly as if he could already sense the vibrations and flames from the impending explosion. He murmured softly, "Then let’s make it as lively as possible."
Mark settled into the chair in the hoist's control room, tilting his head back slightly as he rummaged through the overhead compartment. A few seconds later, he found a spare key. With a cold chuckle, he inserted it into the lock on the control panel and turned it gently. The mechanical system of the hoist instantly activated, lights on the control panel illuminating with a low humming sound; the entire hoist came to life like a steel giant awakening from slumber.
His hands rested on the control levers, his gaze sharp and cold, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. He skillfully maneuvered the mechanical arm of the hoist; cables slowly descended under his command like a massive claw reaching for a giant container parked at the edge of the port. His movements were deliberate and precise, evoking a sense of thrill.
The moment the container was gripped, a deep metallic clang echoed from the mechanical arm as the cables tightened, slowly lifting the enormous container. Its surface was covered in rust and scratches; its weight was staggering, yet under this giant hoist's power, it seemed as light as a toy. Mark watched as the container rose higher, a glint of cold ruthlessness flashing in his eyes as if he were controlling an enormous claw machine.
"It's begun," he murmured to himself as he maneuvered the container to its highest point before slowly moving the mechanical arm to position it directly above Warehouse X17.
The operation of the hoist was accompanied by heavy mechanical sounds; metal grinding echoed between cables and pulleys resonating in the night air above the port. These noises were far from quiet but went unnoticed in this bustling area filled with mechanical roars and transportation clamor. The guards around Warehouse X17 merely glanced up before continuing their patrols, completely unaware that this was anything other than an ordinary work night.
Mark's lips curled slightly upward as he watched that giant container hover above the warehouse like an executioner's blade poised to cleave it in two. He gently released the control lever and leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with a hunter's patience and excitement as he awaited his prey.
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