Finally, Jarek held up a hand and his unit halted as one.

Alard had been watching the ominous wall draw closer and now it was about one and a half superhuman leaps away.

Jarek turned to the group and Alard noticed a hint of worry in his stoic visage. He started gesturing intently and it took Alard a moment to realize he was actually communicating by sign language. The others watched him attentively while Hayaka shot him a similarly confused look.

Jarek finally noticed his rookies' confusion when he had finished and sighed soundlessly. He beckoned them closer which was thankfully a gesture Alard could understand. He peered around the building as instructed and observed the scene.

The sound of something being slammed on a wooden table broke the ghastly silence and was quickly followed by the bellowing laughter of a crowd. 

It turned out that Alard and Hayaka had been right in their past assumption. The guards did seem to be on break and among them was one person in a more plain yet decorated uniform, taking a greedy swig from a large bottle.

Some people would kill and had killed for the contents of the bottle, yet here was this man carelessly getting half of the liquid on the floor.

Alard immediately disliked him.

It also didn't take a genius to guess the sturdy man was Sutton. The loud crowd had set up tables at their station alongside the wall's entrance. As rumor served it was a checkpoint where only authorized personnel dared to approach or risk turning into vulture food.

Alard ducked back behind the building and found Jarek communicating to the others in sign language again. Alard tried to focus on the seemingly aimless gestures but no sudden proficiency revealed itself. 

He shrugged. Aliens didn't suddenly grant the ability to read hands...or minds which would've really come in handy.

Alard didn't even bother entertaining the idea of asking Jigoku if he could understand; he could already imagine the pompous being raving about not knowing inferior languages.

Thankfully, Jarek turned back to the two and mouthed some words.
No change, we continue as planned.

Thankfully lip reading was well within our new capabilities.

Nessa let us down from her transparent platform gently and visibly steeled herself before stepping out into the open and marching forward. Almost immediately, the sound of a chair scraping across the pavement sounded as Alard presumed Sutton stood up.

"Something or someone's coming," the rough voice of a man stated.

More chairs clanged against the floor. "Is it a rogue?" a voice asked.

"Whatever it is seems to be suicidal," another voice remarked.

Alard imagined Nessa striding toward the group with an unfaltering gaze. The sight wouldn't be threatening at all for the group but if they had common sense they would at least be wary.

Of course, common sense wasn't exactly common.

"Don't worry lads," Alard heard Sutton say with a deep stretching groan, "I'll take care of this wanderer. Finally, some real fun to be had." Next came the low sound of cracking knuckles, "just sit back and observe the skill of a superior."

Nessa's footsteps stopped as Sutton's loud and deliberate ones started. The goal was to draw him as close to our cover as possible so she was no doubt hoping he would close their distance himself.

A smile tugged at Alard's lips. Perhaps the mission would be straightforward after all.

Just as he finished that thought a new voice shattered the tense silence. "Wait." The sound of Sutton's footsteps stopping caused the entire team to tense up. "We'll handle it. No need to dirty your hands."

"It's fine," Sutton protested, "this is probably the only action I'll see all week, don't take this away from me."

"Stand down," the voice commanded, taking on a peremptory tone.

To Alard's surprise, Sutton obeyed, his footsteps halting and the shuffling of him turning around with a muttered curse clear to their ears.

Their window to eliminate Sutton when wall guards didn't surround him was closing...and fast. 

Jarek turned to them and thankfully used another universal signal this time.

Go time.

Jarek was the first to dash off, his speed well above the rest of his team. As Alard turned the building's corner he took in the speed with inhumane speed and accuracy. Jarek was already halfway to Sutton who had his back turned as he walked back. However, the person who had instructed him to return had reacted quickly and was in a full sprint. His hat fell off, revealing the familiar mug of the man who had blown up their boat and thrown Alard headfirst into the ocean.

An involuntarily shudder racked Alard's body as he remembered his drowning experience. He had been informed the man's name was Caldor after in the mission report and he was the leader of the Serpen group that was after Jarek's head. 

And by no coincidence, they had ended up smack in the middle of their mission again.

If Jarek had even a slightly fairer start he would've reached Sutton first and the mission would've been completed then and there, but as luck would have it. Caldor reached the unsuspecting man first and shielded him with his body just as Jarek barrelled into the pair.

The blow sent the two soaring backwards but it wasn't fatal to Caldor, much less Sutton. The others who had still been at the table rose and surrounded Sutton, taking off similar hats to reveal themselves to be Caldor's team.

As Alard and the others reached Jarek's crouched form he joined them in their charge. "The target remains the top priority," he instructed, "take whatever measures you need to create an opening for the completion of the mission." He seemed to hesitate briefly and then turned his head to look past Alard at Aura who was running alongside him. "No limiters Aura."

Alard didn't have time to wonder what that meant because the Serpen team had started a charge of their own to meet theirs, and the chain user, Alyx, from before had locked her eyes on him and sent her large chain spiraling his way. 

Alard gave it a moments thought before ducking under the heavy chain's head-height attack. In a show of skill, Alyx flicked her wrist slightly and the chain immediately changed direction toward Alard's crouching figure with enough force to break a skull or two. However, Alard had a lot of experience in evading direction-altered attacks though they were usually in the form of Hayaka's limbs, and so he almost instinctively slid out of its path.

The chain's landing raised quite a lot of dust as it cracked the asphalt and Alard used the makeshift smoke screen to leap onto the chain and run across it toward Alyx. As he emerged from the smoke, she once again flicked her wrist, this time curling the chain on itself so he had to leap off or risk getting crushed from behind.

She controlled the chain masterfully as it curled in front of her, extending it back out so it flew back toward him like a metal whip. Alard realized that since everyone else was preoccupied with other members, he wouldn't gain anything from chasing her since her masterful control allowed her to keep distance between them. Instead, he would bring her to him.

He gritted his teeth and planted his feet in preparation for an unpleasant experience. He raised an arm just as the chain crashed into it and with another flick of her wrist before Alard could properly recover from the shock of the impact, the chain was partly wrapped around his hand. 

He didn't know what the next flick of her wrist would do, but considering the amount of pressure that attacked his arm, he didn't want to find out either. Leaning back on his planted feet, Alard gripped a piece of the chain as best as he could with it wrapped around his arm and started to pull with all of the strength he could muster.

He felt a sense of deja vu as he briefly thought back to a tug-of-war event in his district and like then, he didn't seem strong enough to complete his objective. His tangled hand felt like it was deciding between popping clean out of its socket or exploding from the inside out.

At first.

Alyx's feet began to slide toward him, picking up speed as her skidding feet started to gain momentum. It was deeper than a strength match that worked in Alard's favor. He had observed her loose grip on the chain around her wrist to allow for the acrobatic maneuvers she pulled off with it.  However, this meant that if Alard could sacrifice his hand without completely losing control of it, he would gain more leverage than her in a tug-of-war.

It had been risky but the reward was fruitful as Alyx helplessly continued her unwilling ski ride toward his reared back left hand. With the momentum she was travelling at a knockout was all but assured and that's all Alard needed to create a mismatch between the teams.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alard saw a flash of black fabric and turned to see another Serpen approaching him. He groaned inwardly as he recognized the devilish smirk of the guy that both he and Aura had fought. He was codenamed Xipil and was considered one of the stronger Serpens, not that Alard couldn't tell already from his handling of the two versus one.

"We have some unfinished business," he said as he neared.

Alard struggled to come up with a plan to defend himself but with a chained hand and an inability to remove his planted stance, his options weren't exactly bountiful. 

Just as Xipil got dangerously close, Alard saw him glance back, and his face morphed into a classic portrait of unhinged fear. Before Alard could follow his gaze, a transparent light red hand that was easily the size of the two heads snaked toward Xipil. 

Xipil broke out of his stupor and changed course to Alyx, grabbing her in one smooth motion and running with her. As the hand hovered over the chain, something dripped from it and sizzled on the metal chain, eating through the metal completely. Alard shuddered involuntarily as the sliced chain dropped to the floor and the pressure vanished from his arm.

He did a double take as he found the source of the red arm. 

Aura.

The base of the arm was draped across half of her body like some sticky substance. Was this what Jarek had meant by removing limiters? Her eyes were feral and for a frightening moment as their eyes met, Alard thought that he would be the next target for the apparently corrosive hand. Thankfully, her dark eyes flicked back to the retreating figure of Xipil with Alyx in his arms, and ran after the pair.

Alard took a moment to collect himself and make sure his arm still worked, before Jarek's command ran through his head.

The target is our priority.

Alard scanned the various fights going on and found Sutton sitting up where he had last seen him. The man eye's were wide as he watched the carnage, shock locking him in place. As big as his mouth had been it was evident he hadn't been in many high-stakes battles, if at all.

Sutton caught Alard looking and his eyes managed to widen even more until they looked halfway out of their socket. He clumsily scrambled up and started to run towards the wall entrance but his speed was nothing to sneeze at.

Alard was at his side in no time and grabbed him by his uniform's collar. Alard couldn't help but acknowledge how cool it was to finally be on the other end of the collar grabbing.

Alard turned the cowering Sutton to face him and then studied the man's face. Sutton mistook the pause for hesitance and tried his best puppy eyes impression, pleading with his hands and unintelligible mutters. 

Alard smiled. Trying to guilt-trip him was futile, funny even, considering his bag was more than full already.

Really, he had paused to decide the best way to go about killing him. His first kills he had been juiced up on enough adrenaline to make an elephant fly and they had been anything but efficient. He had been able to simply repeatedly hit the normal Peacocks anywhere but it was different with Parasyte users. He needed to pierce their heart or simply obliterate their skull as he had discovered in his fight against the rogue.

He shrugged, ignoring the man's pleading and wiggled his fingers in preparation for a very gruesome act that somehow didn't feel as evil as it should. He had decided to try to rip Sutton's heart out of his body and crush it. 

A bit bloody but it should do the job.

Just then, a force slammed into Alard's side, blurring his surroundings as his body darted straight back across the clearing and slammed into the building they had used as cover, sending it tumbling down.

Alard struggled to capture breaths that escaped him as excruciating pain befriended him again. At the very least every single rib in his body had been broken and his brain didn't even let him consider attempting to stand up.

In his slouched sitting position which was only made possible by the wall he had collided with being held up by debris, he saw the slow approach of his attacker.

The man wore a gas mask and all-black military clothing. He was tall, perhaps even more so than Jarek and the power that oozed from his pores may have pinned Alard back down if his legs currently allowed standing in the first place. Alard might've even considered the Halloween mask corny if it didn't fit the man's sinister aura so perfectly.

This man was strong, and that was putting it mildly.

The part that worried Alard the most, however, was Jigoku thrashing around the mindscape, fighting to gain control. He had only done that once before.

When their death seemed imminent.

Like Jigoku, Alard started to thrash against his unresponsive mangled body, ignoring the creaks of protests but his body stubbornly refused to cooperate. 

Gas mask had a weird way of walking which almost felt like he was slithering across the ground and despite his deliberate slow gait, he reached Alard before his body remembered how to work again. He grabbed him by the next and lifted him into the air, his serpentine eyes hungrily eyeing him through their slots in the mask.

"Quite the specimen as I've heard," a husky voice noted.

The grip on Alard's neck prevented him from responding even if he wanted to. In fact, it was preventing him from breathing and as white spots began to break the border of his vision he started to wonder if he was really going to die.

He imagined a familiar purple suit appearing behind the man and though he would never admit it out loud, a part of him actually wished for it. 

Just as Alard's brain began to sign out the grip on his neck suddenly vanished and a great load of oxygen invited itself back into his body. Someone caught his fall and he weakly looked up, expecting to see a purple fabric.

Instead, the hard face of Jarek started hard at his attacker and though Alard had never seen him smile, he could tell he wasn't happy.

In fact, Jarek looked furious.