1-2 was originally tied up in District B, but received a call from Sophie, that was when him returned to District A earlier than planned.
Stepping out of his private exit, he was greeted by a grim sight. The hallway was littered with men in black, all shot and sprawled haphazardly on the floor…
The river of blood that painted the scene caused 1-2 to instinctively furrow his brow.
"Damn it!" With his team in tow, 1-2 briskly bypassed the fallen men and headed for the control room.
Upon opening the door, he saw Bernard sitting on the central sofa.
Bernard was casually reclining, his long legs casually draped over the armrest. His hands rested on his thighs, and between them was a blood-soaked gun, still dripping blood.
His head rested lightly against the back of the sofa, chin slightly raised as he looked down at the intruders. There was not a hint of fear in his eyes. In fact, he seemed to be regarding them as if they were already dead, his gaze cold and unblinking.
The black of his outfit obscured the bloodstains, but the bullet holes in his shoulder and leg, from which blood was pouring, were evidence enough of his wounds.
"Well done making it all the way to the control room," 1-2 said, clapping his hands together in a sarcastic applause, "You're just the kind of man we need. You've got guts, and I like that, but..."
The clapping ceased as 1-2 slowly lowered his hands, taking out his own gun and aiming it at Bernard's forehead, "If you weren't the leader of the Siren Organization, maybe I'd let you live!"
But before he could pull the trigger, Bernard was faster. His shot aimed at 1-2’s abdomen, fast and accurate.
1-2 was shot, which caused his aim to falter. Bernard dodged the bullet, rushing towards him amidst the gunfire.
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