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墨書 Inktalez
The X17 warehouse was brightly lit, with the younger members bustling between the shelves and wooden crates filled with weapons. Each of them wore an unmistakable excitement, as if they were participating in a grand celebration. They had just received a shipment of high-quality weapons secretly provided by the government, proof of the transaction between the Snakebite Gang and corrupt officials, symbolizing a tighter collaboration between the two parties.
The wooden crates were pried open, revealing neatly arranged gleaming Rifles, handguns, and Grenade Launchers, along with boxes marked as High Explosives contained within Metal Containers. A young member eagerly approached, cradling a brand-new Rifle in his arms, admiring it with awe. He looked as if he was handling such fine weaponry for the first time, his face filled with wonder and satisfaction.
“Wow, this is exactly what our Snakebite Gang should be using!” he murmured to himself, unable to contain his enthusiasm as he attempted to mimic a gunman from a movie, striking a shooting pose. However, he clearly had no idea how to handle the Rifle; the stock awkwardly rested against the outside of his shoulder instead of the proper position. His fingers fumbled around the trigger, making him appear more like an awkward amateur than a trained shooter.
“Hey! You idiot, stop messing around!” A sharp reprimand shattered his “performance.” A higher-ranking thug approached and unceremoniously slapped the young member on the head. The young thug winced in pain, pulling back his neck and looking at the other with a face full of grievance while still clutching the Rifle.
“These things aren’t for you to play with, got it? If you accidentally fire it, I’ll use this gun to put you down first!” The thug glared at him fiercely before snatching the Rifle away. He expertly disassembled it for inspection and only returned it to its place after confirming everything was in order. Turning to the other busy members, he coldly warned, “Listen up! This batch of weapons is not ordinary stuff; if anything goes wrong, the boss won’t let us off easily!”
The young member lowered his head, not daring to speak further and quietly withdrew his hands into his pockets to avoid eye contact. Yet his gaze still sneaked toward those brand-new weapons, filled with uncontainable longing and greed.
The others in the warehouse continued their work; some were recording inventory while others arranged the weapons neatly. Everything seemed orderly, but no one realized that danger was descending from the darkness above the warehouse.
Amidst the commotion inside, as the younger members busily counted their newly arrived quality weapons, a sudden ear-piercing sound of twisting metal echoed from above as if something massive was sliding overhead. Before anyone could look up to investigate, a deafening crash erupted as the roof’s metal sheeting was violently torn apart. Following that, a giant Container came crashing down!
“Boom—!”
The Container smashed into the center of the warehouse at an astonishing speed, accompanied by a jarring metallic impact that shook the entire floor violently as if it were being shattered. The shockwave rippled through the space instantly. The fluorescent lights on the walls began flickering wildly with unsettling buzzing sounds until several bulbs exploded with a pop, plunging the warehouse into a chaotic half-light.
In that moment when the Container fell, several young members standing in its path didn’t even have time to scream before they were crushed into a bloody pulp. Blood splattered from the edges of the Container onto the floor, walls, and even onto other members’ faces. Some who stood farther away were knocked over by the shockwave, crashing into shelves or falling to the ground while groaning in pain. Wooden crates scattered everywhere from the tremor, spilling forth Rifles and ammunition like a flood that rolled chaotically across the floor.
“Oh my God! What on earth is that?!” one thug shouted as he lay on the ground, pale-faced and clawing at the floor desperately trying to crawl away from that terrifying Container.
Thick dust and smoke quickly spread, the acrid smell mingling with the metallic scent of blood filled everyone's nostrils. Visibility dropped to almost nothing, with only vague silhouettes moving frantically through the murky haze. Some were coughing incessantly, while others screamed in terror, turning the entire warehouse into a chaotic hell.
"What’s happening?!" shouted a thug standing a bit further away, his voice trembling. He waved his arms, trying to disperse the smoke before him, but his vision remained unclear. His cries brought no answers, only more panicked screams.
"Is it an earthquake?! Or are we being attacked?!" Another thug, clutching a shelf for support, stood up with a face full of fear. He shakily pulled out a handgun and looked around, unsure of where to aim.
"Quiet! Everyone calm down!" A slightly more authoritative thug attempted to stabilize the situation, but his voice was abruptly interrupted by a strange sound.
"Beep—beep—beep—"
It was a sound coming from within the Container, rhythmic and clear, cutting through the chaos with an unsettling sharpness. The noise resembled an electronic countdown, coldly echoing throughout the warehouse, leaving everyone momentarily stunned. After a brief silence, a wave of fear washed over each person.
"What the hell is that sound?! Is it a bomb?!" someone screamed in evident despair. His legs began to tremble as he fixed his gaze on the Container, yet he dared not move closer.
The exterior of the Container had warped from a massive impact, wisps of smoke seeping from its cracks. As time passed, the beeping grew increasingly frantic, as if warning them of something. The air in the warehouse became stifling; everyone felt as though something heavy was pressing down on their chests, making it hard to breathe while their hands and feet turned cold.
"Something's wrong! Everyone get out—!" shouted one thug as he tried to run toward the exit, but his voice was soon drowned out by another thug's even higher-pitched scream.
"Oh my God! That’s a bomb!"
This statement sliced through the chaos like a sharp knife. The thugs in the warehouse went wild in an instant, scrambling in all directions to escape. However, the thick smoke and overturned goods made every step perilous and difficult. Their screams and pleas echoed throughout the warehouse, transforming this space into a horrific battleground.
"Boom—!"
A deafening explosion shattered the night sky, instantly transforming the entire warehouse into a sea of flames. The massive shockwave surged outward from the Container, sweeping everything in its path—upturning the floor, shattering the walls, and lifting the roof nearly a foot high. The fiery blast illuminated both the interior and exterior of the warehouse, sending debris and steel fragments flying like bullets, tearing everything inside to shreds.
The thugs surrounding the Container had no time to react; the nearest group was obliterated on the spot, blood and flesh splattering across every wall in a gruesome tableau. Those who were slightly farther away were hurled through the air by the tremendous force, crashing against walls or being pinned under fallen debris, writhing in agony.
“Ahhh! Help!” The warehouse was filled with screams and cries for help as the surviving thugs stumbled in their attempts to escape. Thick smoke and intense heat enveloped them; some tripped over the shattered floor, while others were burned by scalding metal shards. Their wails echoed, nearly drowning out all other sounds. Flames consumed collapsed shelves and wooden crates, thick smoke billowing upward, turning the entire warehouse into a hellscape.
Yet at the center of this inferno, the massive Container stood firm and unscathed. The surrounding explosions had not inflicted any fatal damage on it. Its exterior was specially designed with heavy steel plates that were incredibly sturdy; although its surface was charred black by flames, it remained intact. Inside the Container, Mark sat calmly against one side, listening to the continuous explosions and anguished cries outside that sounded like an earthquake.
The vibrations within the Container rolled in like waves, with slight tremors in the steel reminding him of the explosive power outside. Mark's gaze was cold and composed as he glanced down at his Rifle, checking the magazine before a faint smirk crept onto his lips.
“The Trojan Horse—what a brilliant plan,” he murmured to himself, raising his hand to gently tap on the inner wall of the Container as if praising this sturdy fortress.
To ensure total devastation, he had installed explosives on the exterior of the Container and meticulously set up detonation points to direct all explosive force outward while he sheltered himself inside. Like a Trojan Horse from Greek mythology, he would unleash destruction from within.
As the explosions outside gradually subsided and the wails became the only background noise within the warehouse, Mark slowly stood up, brushing off dust from his clothes and readjusting his backpack. He glanced at the inner wall of the Container where traces of dust stirred by vibrations still lingered but did not hinder his movements. With a cold smile, he tightened his grip on his Rifle, pushed open the door of the Container, and stepped into the sea of fire.
This party had only just begun.
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