Chapter 31: Code K Ii (1/2)
When I came back to my senses, I locked the gun and removed its bullets.
Fatty returned and flung a bag of food toward me.
I fiddled with the bag and took out the soy milk.
It was salted. Fatty always got this wrong.
I sighed. ”What's the next mission?”
Smiling, Fatty replied, ”Wait, let me take a look.”
He whipped out his phone and pressed a few b.u.t.tons speedily. ”Cla.s.s C mission: Run an inspection through the deviants in the slum area.”
”Yet another life-wasting mission?” I asked.
”Isn't it for your safety?” Fatty smiled.
Fatty's my second partner.
Franklin was my first.
I was Franklin's a.s.sistant at that time and did what Fatty's mostly doing right now - receiving missions on his behalf.
Missions usually come in three cla.s.ses: A, B, and C cla.s.s.
Deviants will be categorized into two groups of threat or of no threat.
It was easy to separate them since any deviant with even the slightest intention to cause damage would be cla.s.sified as a threat.
Deviants of no threat would fall into cla.s.s C.
Deviants of any threat would fall under cla.s.s B.
When two or more cla.s.s B deviants work together, they become a cla.s.s A threat.
Franklin only allowed me to accept cla.s.s A missions.
He was a very capable lone wolf. He was the one who had taught me all my gun techniques.
But Franklin's no longer around.
Inspecting the slum areas was the simplest mission of all cla.s.s C missions.
Basically, it involved bringing a notebook, going house to house, and verifying the deviants' ident.i.ties.
Cla.s.s B deviants could be killed immediately.
Deviants that posed no threat could live on like any human being on the condition that they have to be chemically castrated.
It was done to prevent them from handing their mutated genes down to the next generation.
As such, more than 90% of these people were poor.
And some threatening deviants would hide in the slums.
I knocked on the door as Fatty hid from a distance.
”Who is it?” A voice came from behind the door.
”Police. Conducting checks,” I shouted.
The door opened slowly as a thin figure appeared before me.
”Name?” I asked with a pen in my hand.
”Aike,” the frail figure answered softly with his mouth closed.
”What abilities?” I asked faintly.
Aike opened his mouth slowly and an eye-piercing light shone from within his mouth.
I immediately put my sungla.s.ses on. ”You can close your mouth now. Anyone else in the house?”
”My cousin, d.i.c.k,” he answered with his mouth shut tight.
”Get him here. What abilities?” I asked while subconsciously taking out my shotgun.
When the lights came on, another man emerged.
”d.i.c.k, no abilities. Just an extra thumb,” he reported before raising his right hand.
Starting from a few years ago, deviants with deformity fell under cla.s.s C.
But in order to reduce the chances of newborns developing deformity, affected individuals would have to give up their rights to reproduce.
Don't ask me why they couldn't just undergo surgery to become a 'normal' person. Once born a deviant, always a deviant.
This label would stick with them for life. Any attempt to disguise themselves as a normal human being would throw them into cla.s.s B.
I pressed a b.u.t.ton on my sungla.s.ses. With the thermal imaging switched on, I scanned the room once more.
I shut the door slowly when I was certain that there was no one else in the house.
Fatty walked over and smiled. ”How was it?”
”What do you think? Next one.” I wrote some notes down before heading over to the next unit.
It took one morning to run through half the slums.
No discovery. There was nothing to be discovered.
This was the simplest mission, anyway.
The sun was burning the ground and there were exceptionally few people on the road.
Sweat poured down Fatty's face. ”I'm hungry, Jack. Let's get some fast food. I want an ice cream cone.”
My phone suddenly rang.
It was the headquarters.
”Calling for Viper.”
”Viper, received,” I answered.
”Still in the slum area?”
”Just finished. I am about to leave,” I replied.
”Cla.s.s A escapee was found within your region.”
”Cla.s.s A? How many of them? What abilities?” I questioned.
”Just one. I'll send his photo over to you.”
”Send it to Panda. I'm not using a smartphone. One person? Why Cla.s.s A then?” I asked in doubt.
Upon hearing his name, Fatty asked, ”Me? What are you doing to send?”
”Photograph of the suspect, Cla.s.s A,” I informed.
Fatty closed his mouth and unlocked his phone.
”I don't have any information for now. The tip-off came in a red doc.u.ment and I have no rights to get involved. I can only tell you that the suspect might have more than one special ability, hence a cla.s.s A deviant. I'll wait for your good news.”
Two cla.s.s B partners working together would be regarded as a cla.s.s A case. It must work the same for an individual with two cla.s.s B abilities.
It was my first time experiencing something like this.
Fatty raised up his phone. ”Any impression?”
I looked at the photograph in his mobile.