The door slid open.

"Report from corridor seven,"

Neville announced, keeping his voice low and gruff as he stepped into the room. His borrowed uniform and gas mask did their job—the mercenaries barely glanced his way.

"Area secured. No contacts."

"Good." The pirate leader lowered his fist, turning away from Grayson. "The extraction shuttle should be here in—"

He froze. A knife had already stabbed him in the neck.

"Who the hell—" he muttered as he slowly dropped to the ground.

"Drop your weapon!" The nearest mercenary’s pulse rifle snapped up, pointing it at Neville.

Neville looked around and saw that Grayson was already cuffed, with blood trickling from his lips. Bryan was lying unconscious on the ground, not too far from Grayson. Based on the blood trail, he seemed to have put up a good fight.

’Shelly. Sleeping gas.’ Neville ordered.

[Transferring item. Good luck, host! ╰(*°▽°*)╯]

A canister materialized in his palm, and he threw it at the enemy. It hit the floor with a metallic clang and erupted in a cloud of white smoke that billowed outward like a living thing.

Shots were immediately fired in random directions. But it didn’t take long for the mercenaries to stop and drop to the ground.

Those without masks already dropped to the ground, sleeping. Others who couldn’t find him continued to fire randomly.

"HOLD IT!" the pirate leader screamed, but his command was lost in the confusion.

Neville was already moving, diving through the smoke with the gas mask protecting him from its effects. His eyes found Grayson, who was shocked at his appearance.

"Hope—" Grayson’s voice caught as Neville skidded to a stop beside him.

"No." Grayson shook his head, his usual composure cracking. "Go back. Get out of here. They’re not after you—"

Neville smiled behind the mask, though Grayson couldn’t see it.

It wasn’t a nice smile.

"Hold still," he said, and set to work on the cuffs with Shelly.

The restraints were designed to resist tampering, but the system mall’s lockpick set still worked on them. Within seconds, Grayson’s hands were free, and Neville was pulling him and Bryan’s unconscious body into a safe corner.

"You’re injured." Grayson’s hand caught Neville’s wrist, checking his body. "There’s blood—"

[Favorability +1%]

"What about you?" he asked instead, looking at the split in Grayson’s lip, the bruises already darkening along his jaw. "That doesn’t look like nothing."

Grayson brushed the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, a dismissive gesture that annoyed Neville.

"It’s nothing," he said. "I’ve had worse."

"That’s not good." Neville positioned himself to cover both Grayson and the still-unconscious Bryan; his knife was held in a guard position. "I’ve already contacted Julius. Reinforcements are on the way."

Grayson’s eyebrows rose. "How? The network is completely jammed."

That was... a good question.

Neville couldn’t exactly answer truthfully, unless he wanted to explain the existence of Shelly and the methods that he used that he didn’t understand himself.

"Trade secret," he said instead. "Now, who are these people? You seemed to know them."

"Star pirates." Grayson’s voice hardened. "They should be the Void Pirates. We fought on the front lines before, and they were helping Zergs."

"Are they here for revenge?"

"No. Someone was paying them to go after my head." Grayson’s jaw tightened. "They’ve tried assassination three times already. This is just... the most ambitious attempt yet."

The original novel had glossed over the villain’s military background, treating it as mere window dressing for his intimidating persona. But clearly, there was more to the story.

The smoke was beginning to clear.

"They’re regrouping," Neville warned, watching the shapes moving through the thinning haze. "Four... no, five still standing. Including the leader."

The pirate leader emerged from the smoke, his cybernetic implants glowing an angry red. He had a respirator on at some point, and his eyes were locked onto Neville with a murderous gaze.

"You’re still outnumbered, brat," he snarled. "Stand down."

Neville tilted his head, a gesture that felt strange behind the gas mask. He already had Shelly to scan their enemies.

[Host, I’ve mapped all hostile signatures in the immediate area.]

"Stay with Bryan," Grayson ordered. "I’ll handle this."

Neville retrieved the light pulse gun from his belt, one of the weapons he had taken from the fallen guards.

"No."

He tossed the second light pulse gun to Grayson, who caught it easily. Grayson stared at Neville for a long moment before nodding once.

"Fine," Grayson said. "But stay behind me."

Neville fired and moved, fired and moved, using the conference table as cover while Grayson advanced with visibly trained movements. Every movement was efficient and deadly.

Two pirates fell.

Then a third.

And then the light pulse guns stopped working.

"What—" Neville pulled the trigger again, but the weapon was not budging.

The indicator light had changed from green to red, locked out by some override signal.

"Frequency Manipulator," Grayson spat, tossing his own useless weapon aside. "They’ve locked out all standard Imperial weaponry."

The pirate leader’s laugh echoed through the room. "Did you think we would come unprepared when we’re after the great General Maxwell? Every weapon in this place is now under our control. You’re done for."

Neville thought, Standard Imperial weaponry? But what about non-standard?

’Shelly,’ he ordered, ’Give me a gun.’

[Purchase Complete. 1x UZI1.]

[It’s in your Inventory, Host.]

Nevile felt the weight of the UZI in his hand and felt the heavy responsibility of using it. With a solid, mechanical weapon at hand, there was no way for the star pirates to know how terrible this primitive weapon was.

He looked at Grayson. He didn’t know if Grayson could even handle such a weapon that needed manual reloading. He should probably give him a knife or a sword for good measure.

Then Neville saw Bryan’s knife lying beside him.

Bryan’s knife, then.

Neville drew the blade and threw it in one smooth motion, the knife spinning through the air to land at Grayson’s feet. Grayson scooped it up without missing a beat, changing his stance to accommodate the change in weaponry.

"Where did you—" Grayson started, but there was no time for questions.

The remaining pirates charged.