"H-How far is this manor, really?!" Hiroshi wheezed, his breath ragged as his legs threatened to give out beneath him.
Victor didn't answer — not because he wanted to ignore him, but because his mind was working double time.
His sharp eyes flitted across every cracked wall, every rusted sign, every crumbling alley they passed. His pulse thrummed steadily under the surface, but a different kind of tension prickled at the back of his neck.
The map in his head aligned perfectly with their steps. He knew they were on the right track. Every turn, every landmark — he'd memorized it down to the finest detail.
So why the hell did it feel like the whole damn city was gaslighting him?
Beside him, Amanda's brows were furrowed deep — her gloved hand gripping the strap of her rifle like she was one second away from cocking it.
"There's something wrong," she muttered.
Victor's gaze snapped to her.
Amanda rarely admitted when something felt off. She was sharp, pragmatic — a woman who could talk her way out of trouble faster than she could shoot her way in. But the tension in her voice was real.
She gestured for them to stop, ducking behind a half-collapsed wall. Without needing to be told, Victor followed — dragging Hiroshi down with him by the collar when the idiot tried to keep standing like a walking target.
Once they were hidden, Amanda unrolled the worn map she borrowed from Victor. Her finger traced the black ink lines.
"We should already be here by now," she said, tapping the small square near the outskirts of the map — the marked location of Caishen Hwang's manor. "I've been through this route with Nathan a few times. We always pass through this alley — the gates should be right at the next turn."
Victor's eyes narrowed.
She wasn't lying. He'd seen it on the map too — a straight path, barely half an hour's walk from where they started.
But the alley they stood in now?
It was stretched long... too long. The streets folded into more winding passages, unfamiliar buildings cluttering the skyline like they had grown out of the ruins overnight.
"A-Are you saying someone... changed this entire place?!" Hiroshi gasped, squeezing himself between Victor and Amanda like a terrified sandwich filling.
Victor didn't blame him — the idea was absurd.
"It's not possible." Amanda's voice was firm, but her fingers trembled faintly against the paper. "I've walked this route a hundred times... This isn't the same place."
Victor's jaw clenched.
It didn't make sense — none of it did. But he trusted his own memory more than anything. If Amanda said the same...
Then there was only one explanation —
It was possible.
"But... how?" he murmured, half to himself. "Cities don't just rearrange themselves overnight."
Unless...
His heart clenched as a distant theory clawed its way out from the depths of his fragmented mind. Unless someone made them forget how the city was supposed to look.
Victor's fingers unconsciously brushed over the photo inside his coat — the only remaining proof of a memory he couldn't fully recall.
Could they be walking through a rewritten city without even realizing it?
"Maybe..." he trailed off, his voice almost hoarse. "What if the Clean Slate Protocol... didn't just erase memories?"
Amanda's head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing.
Victor's gaze locked with hers, dark and unwavering.
"What if it could rewrite entire environments — or at least... how we perceive them?"
Hiroshi let out a strangled laugh, his nerves cracking under the weight of Victor's theory.
"T-That's crazy! What are you saying? That we're inside some kind of giant illusion?!"
Victor's stomach twisted — because the more he said it out loud, the more it didn't sound so crazy at all.
"Not an illusion," he muttered. "A manufactured reality."
Amanda's throat bobbed, her hands tightening on the map.
"But... that would require technology far more advanced than—"
Her words trailed off.
Because they all knew exactly who was behind the Clean Slate Protocol. The government — perhaps manipulated by Xianyu Zhao — the psychotic moron.
The same bastards who hired Azumi and the other scientists. It could be possible. They might be even the ones who invented the virus themselves to satisfy whatever bullshit they are craving for.
The pieces were fitting together — too perfectly, too painfully.
Victor's heart pounded in his chest. His mind raced back to those fragmented flashbacks — the celebration, the blurred faces, the ballroom that shouldn't have existed.
What if none of them were just victims of mind-wiping experiments?
What if the whole damn world was being rebuilt around them — over and over again — while their memories were erased every time?
Victor's throat ran dry.
"We're not lost..." His voice dropped lower, barely audible. "We're exactly where we're supposed to be... They just made sure we'd never recognize it."
Silence clung to the three of them — heavy and suffocating.
Amanda's eyes flicked towards the alley's end, her fingers curling tighter around the map.
"Then what the hell are we walking into?"
Victor's lips thinned.
"A city built on lies."
Hiroshi, still sandwiched between them, looked like he was about two seconds away from shitting himself.
"W-Wait... I don't get it. Are we in a simulation? Are we... are we dead?!"
Victor shot him a glare so cold it could freeze the virus itself. "If you don't shut up, Hiroshi—"
Another arrow shot down — this time so close it clipped a strand of Amanda's hair.
Hiroshi's scream lodged in his throat.
Victor whipped his gun around, his muscles coiling.
Simulation or not — they were about to find out who the hell was controlling the board.
One bullet at a time.
A second arrow struck the wall just above their heads — its steel tip lodging deep into the crumbling bricks. The hiss of the impact echoed through the narrow alley, followed by the faint shuffle of boots in the shadows.
More of them.
Victor's breath sharpened.
He peeked over the edge of the wooden crate, eyes scanning through the gaps between debris.
Three.
No... five.
No — more.
The enemies had spread out — lurking behind the wreckage like predators waiting to pounce. And this time, they weren't just your average starving scavengers.
Victor's sharp eyes narrowed as he spotted something beneath the dirt-streaked coats they wore.
Military-grade suits.
Dark green tactical vests — armored plating barely hidden beneath layers of worn-out fabric. Standard issue for government field units.
The same type of suits Victor himself once wore... before everything fell apart.
His stomach twisted. His mind raced.
"Military," he muttered, barely above a whisper.
Amanda's head snapped toward him. "What?"
Victor's eyes remained locked on the shadows.
"They're not just looters... They're government operatives. At least eight — maybe more, flanking both sides."
Amanda's mouth parted slightly — but the quick flicker of understanding in her eyes told him she had already begun to suspect the same.
Hiroshi — still pinned between them like a useless human sandwich — stiffened.
"E-Eight?! Wait, wait, wait — government? You mean the people who made all this mess in the first place?!" he hissed, voice barely contained.
Victor didn't answer. His mind was moving two steps ahead.
Why were they here? How did they know?
Had their little scavenger mission been compromised from the start?
Or worse...
Were they being led straight into a trap by someone among them?
Victor's grip tightened around his shotgun, the cold steel pressing against his palm. His mind flared with paranoia.
His eyes flicked toward Amanda — just a fraction of a second.
No.
He shoved that thought aside.
If Amanda was playing them, she wouldn't have walked straight into the line of fire herself. She was the kind of woman who would sell you out without even breaking a sweat — but never at the cost of her own life.
Besides... the flicker of panic in her eyes was real.
Amanda didn't like being hunted either.
"Alright," Victor whispered, his voice calm and calculated despite the storm raging in his chest. "Listen carefully. They're professionals... which means they won't waste bullets unless they have to."
Amanda nodded slowly, already unholstering her pistol with steady fingers.
"Arrows first... bullets second," she muttered, like she'd seen it before.
"Exactly." Victor's gaze flicked to Hiroshi, who was already on the verge of hyperventilating. "You — stay behind us. If you even think about screaming, I swear I'll shoot you myself."
Hiroshi's mouth snapped shut immediately.
Victor shifted his body lower against the crate, his heartbeat syncing with the distant footfalls approaching from both sides.
They were being herded. A classic government tactic — pushing their prey exactly where they wanted them to go.
Straight into an ambush.
Goddammit.
He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus. There was no way out from here — not without bloodshed.
"I count ten," Amanda whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "Two crossbows, the rest armed. Tactical formation. Definitely not your run-of-the-mill raiders."
Victor nodded, his mind already calculating distances, angles, and weak spots.
"They don't know we're onto them yet... We take down the archers first — silently. Then we split — I'll draw fire from the left while you circle to the right."
Amanda nodded grimly, the playful edge in her eyes completely gone.
"And me?" Hiroshi whispered weakly.
Victor leaned close, voice low and lethal.
"You... pray."
Hiroshi's throat bobbed. Victor's fingers shifted on the trigger of his shotgun.
He was never the religious type — but if there really was some kind of divine force watching over this rotting world... They were about to test just how merciful it really was.
The first arrow whizzed past his head.
Victor fired without hesitation — his silenced handgun snapping up in a flash. The archer fell with a muffled grunt, crumpling into the shadows.
One down.
Amanda slipped away like a ghost, vanishing behind a pile of rubble with her rifle slung low. He trusted her to find her own way — she always did.
That left him and Hiroshi.
Hiroshi... who was currently hiding behind the crate, gripping his gun like it was a cursed artifact.
Victor clenched his teeth.
"Hiroshi," he whispered without looking back.
"Nngh?! Y-Yes?!"
"Do exactly what I tell you."
"Okay—"
"On three... you run."
"R-Run?!"
Victor's eyes flicked toward the second archer — perched on a rusted balcony, half-hidden behind tattered curtains.
"One... two..."
Hiroshi whimpered. Victor's finger curled on the trigger.
"Three."
Hiroshi bolted like a malfunctioning robot — screaming internally but keeping his mouth shut.
The distraction was enough.
Victor fired — one clean headshot.
Two down.
But the noise finally tipped them off.
Shouts erupted through the alleys. The remaining soldiers moved like a pack of wolves — spreading out, weapons raised.
Victor cursed under his breath. Their cover was blown. No more hiding. Only death or survival now.
Bullets cracked through the walls.
Victor ducked low, shotgun slung across his back as he switched to his twin pistols — sleek, black, and lethal.
Hiroshi dove behind another crate, covering his head like a scared little mole.
Amanda's rifle cracked from the distance — one shot, one kill.
"Seven left!" she called out.
Victor's pulse thundered in his ears.
He locked eyes with one of the soldiers across the alley — close enough to see the faint emblem stitched on the man's vest.
A black insignia. A circle with a single slash through the middle — Government Intelligence Division.
The same bastards behind the Clean Slate Protocol. Victor's blood boiled. They were getting closer. Which meant... they knew something.
They knew about Caishen.
They knew about Code Nine.
They knew about Azumi.
And they must have came to bury the truth before anyone else could uncover it.
Victor's hands steadied on his guns, the weight of every unanswered question pressing against his chest. If these soldiers were part of the Clean Slate Protocol...
Then they weren't just here to kill. They were here to erase. And Victor would die before he let them erase him again.