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 her fist, turning away from Grayson. "The extraction shuttle should be here in—"
She froze. A knife had already stabbed her in the neck.
"Who the hell—" she muttered as she 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! ╰(*°▽°*)╯]
