IRONROOT SOVEREIGN: Rise Of The Marked Envoy

#1: Portal Escape

A library wasn't one of my usual hangout spots, as I preferred the sharp smell of expensive scotch over the mouldy smell of old books. Still, I was sufficiently familiar with the libraries to know that dashing through the corridors at full speed, not caring about the noise I made, was not a good thing.

It was the kind of thing that summoned a stony-faced librarian, her fingers raised in warning.

Yet, as I took a sharp corner, grabbing a shelf to bleed my momentum even as I pulled them down in a crash, blocking the path behind me, no librarian came to block my path, ready to warn me about the disrespect I was displaying.

Maybe they were intimidated by my expensive clothes — an elegant, tailored suit that was shockingly near six figures, and an expensive, handmade watch that was well into six figures — or the fact that my hair was more white than black, showing my relatively advanced age, almost into my early sixties.

Maybe my age was enough to earn some respect.

Or maybe, just a wild, wild guess, they were intimidated by the three men, constantly firing their guns at the slightest opportunity. And not always missing, as it could be attested by several bleeding wounds, darkening my gray suit.

"Damn it," I murmured as I pressed my hand to my shoulder to stem the blood from the worst of my wounds. Luckily, it was not the artery, meaning I wasn't at risk of immediate collapse.

Though, even without the immediate risk from my wounds, I didn't have much to live unless I could do something. I had no hope of ditching the man that followed me. I was surprisingly athletic … for a man in his sixties.

Avoiding a trio of contract killers was a young man's game.

The smart thing would have been to stop and surrender, betting my hope on the slight possibility that they might show me mercy — more mercy than they had shown to my bodyguards, at least.

Yet, I rejected that path with my whole being. I didn't survive this long in my line of work by relying on the mercy and the trust of others. I preferred to die than become a prisoner to whatever madman who decided a public ambush was a good way to do business.

A probability with a dangerously high likelihood of being realized as I went deeper and deeper into the library, rather than trying to find a quick exit. My path risked bringing me to a dead end, and what would follow would only justify that name, but it was still better than trying to ditch three assassins in their prime in an open courtyard.

I was on the lookout for a suitable ambush spot even as I ran, hoping to find a way to take them down. Unfortunately, the library lacked a good spot. A lot of concealment, but nothing that would actually hold back a bullet.

I might have tried to just wait at one end of a corridor for a last stand if I had anything but a concealed 9mm pistol with me — another mistake I had only done because no one dared to try assassinating me for a long while. Unlike ordinary people, I knew very well just how little stopping power that little gun had.

It was scary against ordinary people, but unless luck was on my side and I managed to get three headshots in succession before they managed to take me down, such a confrontation would only end one way.

Maybe if I was still young … but endurance wasn't the only aspect that deteriorated with time.

I dashed forward, trying to ignore the existential dread of mortal danger, trying to ignore that a wrong turn was all it would take for me to end up trapped with three professional killers that were both better armed and in a better condition than me.

Three men that I doubted that was in a good mood, as they had lost two of their allies during the earlier ambush where they took down my bodyguards, who barely managed to hold them back until I could crawl away.

I didn't blame them. They were skilled men, loyal enough to put their life on the line. Missing the ambush was their fault … but also mine, letting arrogance blind me to the risk. After ruling the city for a decade with no challenge, I just assumed that the lessons I had given in my younger days would stick.

Especially since I was a kind P*****n, one that allowed others to operate under my territory, as long as they followed a few simple rules. No hard drugs that would kill people, no human trafficking, and no making too much noise that would increase crime statistics.

And in return, I offered them a city where they could work without the risk of police breathing down their neck, and judges that were more than willing to give lenient sentences to the ones that were unlucky enough to get caught.

A beautiful little corner, enough for everyone to work happily and focus on activities that brought real profit like smuggling, without harming the people in our territory.

Unfortunately, the new, mysterious party seemed to disagree on those same rules. I wondered whether they were linked to a few rogue groups that seemed to focus on kidnapping people that we had dealt with a few months ago.

Maybe, I thought as I continued to run, trying to focus on the present as I tried to ignore my steps getting slower. No amount of adrenaline was enough to compensate for the loss of blood, especially not at my age. My head getting fuzzier.

A last stand, or one last desperate dash, I tried to decide, cursing my reckless attitude making me forget the lessons I had learned in my youth. No matter how strong a familia, there was always danger…

Even if the said P*****n held more power than the mayor himself in the city. All it would take was an opponent crazy enough to use public assassinations as a way to deal with the opposition, uncaring for all the federal attention it would bring.

A reckless method, destined for failure … too bad I wouldn't last enough to see it crumble.

As I dashed, I noticed a set of stairs to my left, going down to the basement, and took them in a sharp turn. It was not a good idea, but with my chances of a successful escape diminishing by each second, that was my best hope.

Maybe I could find a nice spot to lay down, enough to keep them back for a few minutes. Police couldn't be too far away, not with a firefight happening in one of the best colleges of the city. Maybe they might even more fast enough to arrive before I bled to death…

"Damn it," I murmured as I found myself in a long, two-way corridor with no cover to hide. The stairs would have been a nice place to set up an ambush. "Run boy run," I murmured in a desperate gasp as I continued, hoping to find a room with only one door and no windows in the corridor.

And hopefully, with some discarded furniture enough to block bullets.

Luckily, the corridor wasn't a straight one, and I managed to run without the bullets seeking my life, but the footsteps got closer and closer. So, in the first windowless room, I immediately opened the door and threw myself in.

Only to meet with an unexpected sight.

A young man, tall and bespectacled, standing in front of some kind of glowing light, hypnotized by the sight. The glow itself was beautiful and mysterious, white mixing with purple … and a bunch of other colors that I never thought to be possible.

The boy was clearly just another student, and if his bright-colored bag with a drawn cartoon character was any indicator, not a particularly mature one by college standards.

A weird phenomenon, one that clearly captured the attention of the student fully. Otherwise, he would have reached the gunfire, or at least a bloodied man bursting inside.

He walked calmly, in a trance, clearly not controlling his actions, his hand already disappeared into the light.

I couldn't help but tense. I was not exactly a believer — of God, or of the supernatural — but I had never been one to actively reject either. It was just one of the things in life, no more interesting than exploring how a computer worked.

Yet, my lack of belief didn't stop me from dashing forward without thinking. I had no idea what was going on, but it was better than three gunmen behind me.

I had no idea what that glowing light was, or why the boy was walking toward it. Maybe it was just a stupid glitch of light or a toy, something I was just trying to give more weight to ignore my upcoming death, a mirage from the blood loss. Maybe it was something as magical as it looked, but just like the stories, it would burn the unworthy.

As I approached, I could feel a whisper in my mind, convincing me to stay away, a sense of disgust, one that turned into fear. I pushed forward, easily ignoring the thoughts and sensations, the kind that never stopped me before.

I covered most of the distance, and that mental impression was replaced by a sensation of unworthiness, whispering that it was not an opportunity I deserved.

I ignored the moral implications even easier. I tried to live a good life and not harm other people unless it was completely necessary, and I did my best to help others, but I was never under any misconception about my true personality.

Above anything, I was a selfish survivor. One didn't climb to the top in any business — and certainly not in the criminal world — being altruistic.

It helped me to recognize that those thoughts were also a mirage. All my life, I had never thought of anything as being worthy or unworthy, believing justice to be nothing more than an illusion. The closest thing the world had was the mercy of the strong, wrapped in the veneer of idealized justice…

Even if I was mistaken about that, I was much more willing to take that risk and discuss that with whatever god or devil was responsible for the magic I saw in front of me, rather than turning back to surrender myself to an inevitable death.

As I heard the door opening behind me, I threw myself forward once more, the explosion of a gun loud behind me. I felt a bullet being buried in my neck.

I ignored the pain as I grabbed the shoulder of the student and pulled him back, throwing him to the side recklessly, even as I used that as leverage to push myself deeper into the portal, ignoring several other points of pain blossoming on my body.

… and light invaded my vision, blinding me along with pain.

Then, a line of text appeared in my vision.

《Class Acquired: Marked Envoy》