From Titan Corporation to the Empire of Man

Chapter 771 "Hey guys, party? Why didn't you invite us?"

After a short rest, it's time to get back to work.

The group began packing their belongings in an orderly manner.

They folded up high-tech optical camouflage cloaks, which automatically "hardened" in the folded state, forming easy-to-store sections, which were then stuffed into an inconspicuous small storage bag at the back of their belts, looking like an ordinary tool bag from the outside.

Next, they carefully tidied up their tattered clothes, which they had prepared in a style that closely resembled that of the local people.

Lyon turned up the collar of his work jacket slightly to cover his jawline;
Mike pulled his hood down even lower, obscuring part of his face;
Maggie let her dark red hair fall loosely and covered it with a dirty headscarf to reduce her recognizability.

Their primary weapons were concealed under loose jackets, while pistols were hidden in concealed holsters under their armpits or on their lower backs, ensuring they could be drawn quickly when needed, but would never attract attention otherwise.

"Okay, now we look like three unlucky guys who just finished rummaging through the rubble."

Mike adjusted the deliberately made rip on his trouser leg while making jokes, trying to dispel some of the heavy atmosphere that had been lingering since last night.

Lyon checked the stains on his coat to make sure they looked "natural" enough, and replied, "The image is as expected. Remember, we are civilians struggling to survive now. Keep your eyes blank, your movements slow, and don't look like soldiers."

"Acting guidance received."

Maggie interjected casually, having already adjusted her state of mind; the sharpness in her eyes had been replaced by a just-right weariness and bewilderment.

Once they were ready, they left the abandoned apartment building quietly, like true vagrants, and blended into the gradually awakening streets outside.

With the arrival of daylight, the curfew has been lifted.

Scattered populations began to appear in abandoned areas on the outskirts of the city and in the adjacent, slightly better-equipped outlying residential areas.

Compared to the deathly silence of the night, this place has an extra touch of morbid "vitality".

However, the controls have not been relaxed, only in a different form.

On the streets, large patrols of "soldiers" and "traitors" are still everywhere. They scan every pedestrian and sometimes push and shove or berate local residents who are walking hurriedly on the street for no reason, in order to demonstrate their authority and create fear.

As planned, Leon, Mike, and Maggie split up and blended into the crowd of people who looked terrified and hurried toward the city center.

They lowered their heads and hunched their backs, perfectly mimicking the timid posture of the people around them who wanted to reach their destination as quickly as possible but were afraid of attracting attention.

As they walked, their senses were fully engaged, carefully observing every detail around them.

The extent of the building's damage, the patrol team's shift change patterns, and the location of surveillance cameras.
But most importantly, they closely monitored the reactions of the local people who were being bullied.

Leon and his team possess extremely rich experience as agents, having witnessed countless souls struggling under oppression, and are masters at discerning a person's true emotions and intentions.

They observed that the vast majority of people who were pushed and verbally abused by soldiers or traitors reacted with pure terror and fear. They would immediately lower their heads, tremble, and beg for mercy in tearful voices, before fleeing the scene like startled rabbits, without daring to linger or resist.

This is a normal reaction to living under extreme fear for a long time.

However, they also keenly observed that a very small number of people outwardly displayed similar fear, with their heads bowed and bodies trembling slightly, but if one looked closely into their eyes—

In the depths of those eyes that lifted in that instant, what flashed was not submission, but a forcibly suppressed resentment, anger, and even a trace of unyielding flame.

Their fists would clench silently at their sides, and although they would quickly loosen them, that momentary body language revealed their true inner emotions.

These subtle reactions, like fireflies in the dark, are fleeting yet cannot escape the well-trained eyes of professional agents.

Lyon noticed that when a middle-aged man was being shoved, his right hand instinctively reached for his waist.

That was an instinctive reaction to search for weapons, though he immediately reverted to a cowering posture after touching the empty belt.

Mike observed that when a young man bowed his head to apologize, the muscles in his neck were taut like iron, a physiological manifestation of forcibly suppressing anger.

Maggie observed a middle-aged woman who, while trembling all over, displayed a barely perceptible defiance when being reprimanded.

"See that guy in the gray jacket at nine o'clock?" Mike's voice came through the encrypted bone conduction headphones. "He just got shoved, and his eyes were practically spitting fire, though he immediately lowered his head."

He rubbed his right hand three times along the seam of his trousers, a clear stress response indicating that he frequently used weapons.

Leon's gaze swept over the figure that quickly disappeared around the street corner, memorizing every detail: "Record target A, thirty-five to forty years old, gray jacket, scar on right eyebrow."

He clearly still harbored a spirit of resistance, but lacked the opportunity and means to do so. Note that he chose an alleyway with many blind spots in the surveillance cameras when he left.

Or perhaps...

Maggie's cool voice joined the conversation. She was pretending to be tidying her shoelaces by the roadside, but actually observing another target. "There might be members of the resistance among them."

This suppressed anger is more like the expression of the organization members being forced to endure during the mission.

I noticed a woman carrying a shopping basket. Although she seemed panicked, she kept her body protecting a specific spot on the basket, where contraband might be hidden.

This judgment is consistent with their speculation.

True fighters, in order to survive and for a greater purpose, must learn to perfectly disguise themselves in front of the enemy.

They will tremble at just the right moment when insulted, and show fear promptly when pushed, but they will always reveal traces of training at some point.

It could be an overly standard evasive maneuver, familiarity with a particular route, or even a subconscious avoidance of the location of a surveillance camera.

Therefore, Lyon quickly adjusted its strategy.

"Cast a wide net, and you're bound to catch some fish," he said, his gaze sweeping across the crowd like a scanner. "Choose suitable targets and follow them in different directions."

Pay attention to those who exhibit contradictory behavioral characteristics: appearing timid but with a determined gaze, moving slowly but being unusually alert to their environment.

His gaze locked onto a target:
A young girl who looked quite young, probably just over twenty.

The other person was wearing a faded old coat and carrying an empty cloth bag. He had just been scolded by a "traitor" for walking a little too slowly.

Like everyone else, the girl immediately bowed her head and apologized, then quickly left. But Leon caught a glimpse of a deep hatred and stubbornness in her eyes as she turned away, a hatred that seemed incongruous with her youthful appearance.

This combination of age and demeanor may indicate that she has only recently been exposed to rebellious ideas, or that her age may make her less likely to be viewed with suspicion and thus more likely to participate in certain peripheral activities.

"I've identified target B: a young woman with short brown hair, wearing an old coat, and about 165 cm tall."

Lyon announced in a low voice, while simultaneously adjusting his walking direction and speed naturally, like a wandering vagabond, secretly following the girl.

He deliberately maintained a distance of about fifteen meters, using street vendors and pedestrians as cover, and precisely placed each step in blind spots of surveillance or in densely populated areas.

“Roger that. I’m tracking Target C, the man at the repair stall. He’s hiding something.” Mike responded, noticing the man pretending to repair a radio. Although his movements were clumsy, his method of removing screws was unusually professional.

Even more suspiciously, the other person would occasionally touch a bulge at their waist; the outline of which might not be a tool, and then continue:

"His left leg was slightly lame, but the soles of his shoes were worn evenly, indicating that the limp was feigned."

"Target D, an elderly woman carrying a basket, whose gait is inconsistent with her age, is suspicious."

Maggie's voice remained calm, but she had already locked onto the seemingly hunched old woman.

"Her gait showed that her core muscle strength was far beyond the normal level for her age, and the fact that she changed her route three times and just happened to avoid the patrol's checkpoints was either an amazing coincidence or she knew the patrol's routines very well."

The three began to silently follow their chosen targets, disappearing into the chaotic and oppressive crowds of the streets in the early morning.

Leon noticed that after Target B turned two street corners, he began to consciously check whether he was being followed;

Mike discovered that Target C lingered at the repair stall for far longer than necessary;
Maggie observed that target D made a barely perceptible gesture at a certain intersection.

They believed that among these people who harbored a burning passion within them, there must be clues leading to the local resistance.

A silent pursuit and selection process unfolds in this enslaved city.

Next, Lyon maintained a seemingly aimless yet precisely controlled pace, following the young woman from a distance.

Unlike most people, she didn't head towards the city center where there might be job opportunities or supply points. Instead, she kept turning into one increasingly remote and dilapidated alley after another.

What alarmed Leon even more was that she was heading in the direction of the abandoned area where their safe house was located.

That area was almost entirely devoid of anything but ruins, death, and the occasional patrol; ordinary people would never venture there during the day.

“Target B’s direction of travel is abnormal.” Lyon reported in a low voice over the encrypted channel, his voice steady, but his vigilance had been raised to the highest level. “She is heading towards the outer abandoned area, not inside the city. Repeat, target direction is abnormal.”

His brain was racing, analyzing all the possibilities.

Based on their previous observations, the city, despite being brutally ruled, was still maintaining some minimum level of operation.

Most civilians would try to go into the city during the day to do arduous labor in exchange for the meager supplies necessary for survival.

It could be a piece of synthetic food, or it could be a can of clean water.

The girl's behavior completely violated this logic of survival.

Instead of seeking resources for survival, she deliberately went to the ruins, where resources were scarcer and the danger was greater.

This strongly suggests that her purpose was anything but ordinary.

'She's doing the opposite,' Leon thought to himself, and a hypothesis gradually became clear.

The other party is very likely a member of the resistance organization, and their current destination is likely to be the nearest secret stronghold or contact point of the resistance organization located in these ruins.

This judgment instantly boosted the value of the target.

“Mike, Maggie,” Leon immediately called to his teammates. “Move closer to me. Coordinates are synchronized. Target B is behaving abnormally and is highly suspected of being related to the resistance. I’m tracking her. She may be heading to her stronghold. We need backup just in case.”

"Received, approaching you, keep tracking," Mike responded immediately.

“In position, 25 meters to your flank.” Maggie’s response was more concise, clearly indicating that she acted faster.

Lyon continued to follow, while observing his surroundings more cautiously.

He noticed that the girl would pause very briefly when turning the corner, as if she was glancing behind her out of the corner of her eye.

The other party's route selection was also very deliberate, often using ruins and dilapidated walls to create blind spots.

The other party is likely carrying out reconnaissance or liaison missions.

'Furthermore, given the usual practices of such organizations, she is likely not alone. Someone should be secretly covering her rear, observing whether she is being followed.'

The moment the thought crossed Lyon's mind, the situation took a sharp turn for the worse.

The girl led Lyon into a particularly narrow alley with high walls on both sides. At the end of the alley was a brick wall that had collapsed halfway, forming a typical dead end.

The moment Lyon stepped into the alley, the girl in front of him stopped, slowly turned around, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and the fear and numbness she had been feigning earlier disappeared from her face, replaced by a calm and scrutinizing expression.

She stood there, as if she already knew she was being followed and was waiting for Lyon to walk right into her trap.

Almost at the same time, Lyon heard light footsteps behind him.

Without turning around, he knew from experience and a glance that two men dressed in civilian clothes but with sharp eyes had blocked his way back.

One of them lifted the hem of his coat, revealing the grip of a pistol tucked into his waistband, the threat of which was self-evident.

The atmosphere instantly became tense.

Lyon was caught in a pincer movement and trapped in this dead end.

However, just as the two men blocking the road were about to take further action, and the girl in front of them tensed up slightly in preparation to give a signal—

"Hey guys, party? Why didn't you invite us?"

A mocking voice came from above the low wall on one side of the alley.

Mike was already crouching on the wall, toying with a small dagger in his hand, a seemingly relaxed but actually dangerous smile on his face.

In the shadows on the other side of the alley, Maggie's figure appeared silently like a ghost. She didn't speak, but her cold gaze and poised posture created a sense of oppression that was stronger than any words.

The situation reversed in an instant.

The girl and her two companions, who thought they had surrounded their prey, now find themselves surrounded instead.

The girl's expression changed, she lowered her arms that were crossed in front of her chest, and her eyes were filled with surprise and vigilance as she quickly scanned Mike and Maggie who had suddenly appeared.

The two armed men immediately tensed up, instinctively back to back. Although they were still wary of Lyon, their attention had been diverted.

In the alley, the two sides faced off, and the air seemed to freeze.

Lyon stood in the center, his expression still calm. He knew that the first step in making contact with the local resistance had begun.
(End of this chapter)