Jax checked the magazine. Three rounds left.

He didn’t waste them on a parting shot, nor did he waste energy giving chase to the fleeing thugs. His priority had shifted. The skirmish had escalated into a kill, and in the wasteland, bodies brought bureaucracy. His only play now was to reach the Helios Syndicate contact and claim asylum before the law caught up.

Barnaby still had the young thug pinned to the dirt. The boy was howling, his face mashed into the gravel. After the deafening crack of the rifle, the fight had drained out of him entirely. He wanted no part of the maniac standing above him.

The math was simple: Jax had a gun; the thug had a stick. Even if the thug had backup, Jax had already proven he was a tier above them in raw violence.

The thug looked up at the towering, innocent-looking Barnaby with terror. He had assumed the big guy was a gentle giant, harmless. He hadn’t expected to be rag-dolled into submission.

But the real shock was his savior. It wasn’t the police. It was the killer.

Jax walked over and placed a firm hand on Barnaby’s shoulder.

“Barney, let go. We’re moving.” Jax’s voice was tight. “We need to find cover before the Guild Hub enforcers swarm this place.”

Barnaby released his grip immediately. Jax grabbed his arm, steering him toward the coordinates Sawyer had given him.

They sprinted down the dusty thoroughfare. Onlookers lined the streets, eyes wide, whispering as the two fugitives passed.

Jax ignored them. He kept his grip on Barnaby, forcing a punishing pace through the labyrinthine alleyways of Outpost 15.

Minutes later, they arrived at a nondescript tent—the temporary field office for the Helios Syndicate.

Jax didn’t bother knocking. He tore the canvas flap aside and stormed in.

Inside, a man was lounging in a recliner, humming a tune with his eyes closed.

The sudden intrusion made him jump. He scrambled out of the chair, hand dropping to his waist.

“Who the hell are you?”

Jax didn’t waste time on pleasantries. He flashed the token Sawyer had given him and rapidly debriefed the situation.

The man’s tense posture relaxed instantly when he saw the token. He let out a breath and waved a dismissive hand. “Christ, is that all? Relax, kid. The Iron Spear Syndicate pulls this garbage all the time. Extortion, bullying—I’ve seen it a thousand times. You sit tight. Let’s see who has the stones to drag you out of a Helios tent.”

Jax didn’t share his confidence. “It’s not just Iron Spear. It’s the Guild Hub I’m worried about. I had to use the rifle. I killed one of them.”

“Self-defense is valid,” the man shrugged.

“In the old world, maybe,” Jax countered, his voice grim. “But out here? The law doesn’t care about context. If you have blood on your hands, you go to the cage. Or worse.”

He explained the details of the shooting. The man listened, his brow furrowing as the gravity of the situation sank in. His eyes drifted to the weapon in Jax’s grip.

“Let me see that rifle.”

Jax handed it over.

The man worked with practiced efficiency, stripping the weapon down in seconds. He inspected the cut near the chamber and swore.

“Damn it.” He pointed to a stamped sequence of numbers. “See this? Serial number. Every registered weapon has one. This definitely belongs to the Iron Spear armory.” He paused, looking up sharply. “The casing. Did you pick up the brass?”

Jax froze. The adrenaline had blinded him to the basics. “The casing… I left it in the street.”

The man slumped back, letting out a long, defeated sigh. “Then we have a problem. A big one. The ballistics will match the casing to this gun. And every bullet issued is logged to a specific user.”

“I’ll go back,” Jax said, turning toward the flap. “I can find it.”

“Too late.” The man shook his head. “If you go back there now, you’re walking into a net. Leave the gun here. I’ll hide it. I’ll try to vouch for you when they come. The Guild Hub usually doesn’t like stepping on Helios toes.”

Despite the assurances, Jax caught the flicker of uncertainty in the man’s eyes.

He wasn’t confident. He was bluffing.

Jax sat down, his stomach tightening. There was nothing to do but wait.

Time dragged. Jax checked his watch—less than ten minutes had passed, but it felt like hours.

Then came the sound of engines. Heavy tires crunching on gravel. Doors slamming. The chaotic rhythm of boots encircling the tent.

Jax looked at the disassembled rifle on the table, then at the man.

The man took a breath, composing himself. “Listen. Whatever I say, you agree. Let me do the talking.”

Jax nodded. He followed the man out into the harsh sunlight.

The tent was completely surrounded.

It wasn’t a gang retaliation. It was a military operation. Dozens of soldiers wearing the insignia of the Guild Hub had their weapons raised, a wall of steel aimed squarely at Jax.

Jax felt the cold weight of inevitability. He was cornered.

The rank of soldiers parted. Officer Walker stepped through, bowing and scraping like a trained dog as he trailed behind a stern middle-aged official. Walker was gesturing wildly, recounting the ‘crime’ with theatrical flair.

The official listened without expression, simply nodding.

He stopped in front of the Helios contact and offered a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hahaha, Boss Lin! A pleasure, as always.”

Boss Lin stood his ground, though his eyes narrowed in displeasure. “Director. Bringing a platoon to surround a Helios outpost in broad daylight? That’s a bold move. What’s the meaning of this?”

The Director chuckled dryly, then pointed a finger at Jax. “Strictly business, Lin. We have a homicide involving the Iron Spear Syndicate. A man was gunned down in the settlement.”

He smoothed his uniform. “We received a tip and came to investigate. The suspect is the young man standing next to you. I’m afraid we need to take him in for questioning. I trust the Helios Syndicate won’t obstruct justice?”

Boss Lin let out a loud, incredulous laugh. “You’re joking, right? You say he’s a suspect, and I’m supposed to just hand him over? Where’s the proof?”

The Director didn’t speak. He simply flicked his hand.

A soldier stepped forward, holding a plastic evidence bag containing a single brass casing.

“Ballistics match,” the Director said smoothly. “This casing was recovered from the scene. The batch number belongs to the Iron Spear armory.”

He waved his hand again. “And, of course, we have a witness.”

The crowd of soldiers parted again. A man in his thirties shuffled forward, keeping his head low. He stood beside the Director, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“Viper?” Jax hissed. “You rat.”

A chill went down Jax’s spine. He had expected the Iron Spear thugs to lie, but he hadn’t expected betrayal from within his own circle.

He regretted not putting a bullet in Viper when he had the chance. He had let a snake slither away, and now it had returned to bite him.

“Viper,” the Director commanded. “Tell us what you know.”

Viper nodded nervously, taking a half-step forward.

“It’s… it’s like this,” Viper stammered, rehearsing his lines. “Jax and I are in the same guild. But he’s a lone wolf. Never hangs out with the crew. Always mysterious.”

He swallowed hard. “A while back, I saw him with a rifle. I didn’t think much of it—figured he bought it on the black market in The Sprawl. But a few days ago, when we got back to Outpost 15, I heard about the assassination of an Iron Spear member. I put two and two together.”

Viper finally looked up, pointing an accusing finger at Jax. “I suspect that gun is stolen property, and he’s the one who pulled the trigger!”

The Director smiled, turning back to Boss Lin with a look of mock sympathy.

“You see, Boss Lin? Witness and material evidence. Watertight. Surely you can’t protect him now? This case links to a series of murders we’ve been tracking. For the safety of the entire district, we must detain him.”

He paused, his voice hardening. “Harboring a known killer would be… irresponsible. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Boss Lin’s face fell. The trap was perfect.

The argument was flawless. If they searched the tent and found the gun, Jax was dead. Even without the gun, the casing and the witness were enough to hang him.

Jax had told Lin the truth—that Iron Spear had attacked him first. But Iron Spear would deny it, and dead men couldn’t testify.

All signs pointed to Jax as the aggressor.

Boss Lin sighed, turning to Jax with a look of apology.

“Kid… I can’t stop them. Go with them for now. I’ll contact the main branch in the city immediately. We’ll get lawyers, we’ll get you out. But…” He grimaced. “Redrock Bastion is a long way away. You’re going to have to survive the holding cell for a while.”

Jax’s blood ran cold. Survive? If he went into a cell controlled by the Guild Hub—who were clearly in bed with Iron Spear—he wouldn’t last the night. He’d be ‘suicided’ before sunrise.

Panic flared, but his eyes darted around, looking for any exit.

His gaze landed on a crumpled piece of paper pasted to the tent wall.

[URGENT: VANGUARD RECRUITMENT – MOUNT SEPULCHER EXPEDITION]

Jax’s mind raced. Mount Sepulcher. The suicide mission.

It was insane. It was a death sentence.

But it was also a lifeline.

“Boss Lin!” Jax shouted, his voice cutting through the tension. “I already signed up! I’m a volunteer for the Redrock Bastion Vanguard! I’m heading to Mount Sepulcher!”

He turned to the Director, eyes blazing. “If you arrest me now, you aren’t just arresting a suspect. You’re sabotaging a military operation for Redrock Bastion. You’re stealing a soldier from the front lines!”

Jax didn’t bother arguing his innocence. That game was lost. He had to play a new card: He had to wrap himself in a flag so big they didn’t dare shoot through it.