The diminutive figure darted out of the boss’s study, glancing around cautiously. Seeing no one in sight, he slipped swiftly out the back door and vanished into the shadows of the alleyways.

  As he moved further into the labyrinth of side streets, his tension grew palpable. His darting eyes scanned his surroundings as if expecting to be followed. Only when convinced he was alone did he scuttle into a narrow, dimly lit passage.

  “What did you say?” roared a towering, bald man with a gleaming head that reflected the flickering lamplight. The man’s booming voice filled the room.

  “North Boss, I swear on my life, I saw Bailey with my own eyes! There’s no way I’d mistake him. He’s here in Reno. If you don’t believe me, send more scouts to check. They’ll find him. Our boss reckons they crossed through the Shard Belt, heading to Red Star Cove, but diverted here instead,” the small man answered obsequiously.

  Just then, another subordinate entered and whispered something into North Boss’s ear. The burly man’s grim expression broke into a delighted grin.

  “Well done, Monkey!” North Boss gave the small man a rare nod of approval. With a flick of his hand, one of the lackeys handed Monkey a card. “Here. Take this as your reward. Keep up the good work, and there’ll be more where that came from!”

  Monkey’s greedy eyes glinted as he carefully accepted the card with both hands. “Thank you, North Boss! I’ll do my best!”

  North Boss waved him off. The small man bowed and quickly made his exit. Once the door closed behind him, North Boss erupted into laughter.

  “Ha! The heavens are smiling on me today! My brother’s chasing some assassin all the way to Red Star Cove, and here I am, stumbling onto a prize. Get the brothers ready. We’re bringing guns! Let’s see if he can outrun bullets,” he declared, gleefully rubbing his shiny head.

  A cautious voice interrupted. “Boss, shouldn’t we inform the Big Boss first?”

  North Boss scowled. “Inform him? By the time you finish grovelling, Bailey and his buddy will be long gone! When I bring them in, it’ll be a surprise gift for the Big Boss. Now stop wasting time and get moving!”

  Meanwhile, Ash and Bailey strolled through the bustling streets of Reno. Bailey looked thoroughly drained. His initial enthusiasm at explaining the local culture to his new “master” had waned rapidly. Ash was an endless stream of questions—most of them bizarre. Every answer only led to more queries, each more convoluted than the last.

  Bailey threw his hands up in frustration. His patience had been stretched thin, and he could no longer keep pace with Ash’s curiosity. To add insult to injury, Ash had the audacity to critique his idol, Phoenix Féng, dismissing the legendary pilot as having “legs too thin” and “skin too smooth.” Bailey groaned, casting a despairing glance at the heavens.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Suddenly, a commotion erupted ahead. A mob of burly men charged toward them with hostile intent.

  Ash’s eyes narrowed, and his instincts kicked in. With a swift motion, he activated one of his mechs.

  The mech that materialized was Golden Sentinel, a sleek, humanoid design that gleamed with a radiant golden hue. It was one of the many advanced mechs Ash had acquired from Oakleaf Squadron’s reserve collection. The squadron had amassed these treasures over years of scrupulous effort, storing them for emergencies. But now, they were in Ash’s possession.

  Bailey’s jaw dropped the first time Ash had casually emptied a pile of storage devices from his bag, revealing an arsenal of high-end mechs. Is this guy an arms dealer? Bailey had wondered, stunned beyond words.

  Ash had learned from past mistakes and carefully preset configurations for several mechs to avoid delays during combat. Every second counted in a fight—a fact Ash understood intimately.

  From Bailey’s perspective, however, Ash’s constant tinkering looked more like a mech fashion show. When he finally realized Ash was meticulously preparing for emergencies, he was floored. Ash carried not one or two, but eight mechs, including five high-end combat models and three specialised designs. To Bailey, it was as if Ash had an entire mobile armoury on hand. If he knew about the Sandstormer and Rune stored in Ash’s inventory, he might have fainted on the spot.

  Among Ash’s inventory, the storage devices themselves were a marvel. Designed as wearable accessories for convenience, Ash had rings, bracelets, and even an earring that doubled as storage compartments. The earring, in particular, had been a source of endless amusement for Bailey, who couldn’t stop laughing when Ash nonchalantly attached it to his left ear.

  Ash, for his part, was unfazed by Bailey’s reaction. Ugly? Who cares? As long as it increased his odds of survival, Ash considered it a worthy trade-off.

  The Golden Sentinel shimmered as it fully deployed, its imposing figure standing tall. While Ash appreciated the mech’s advanced features, he couldn’t help but lament its overly flashy colour scheme.

  Subtlety would’ve been nice, he thought, imagining it in muted tones like grey or blue. Still, the mech’s performance made up for its lack of discretion. Its dual-layer armour was lightweight yet durable, and its aerodynamics allowed for unparalleled speed and agility. The mech’s primary weapon, the Hyperfrequency Vibration Blade, was devastatingly effective, capable of reducing even the sturdiest of armours to fragments in seconds.

  Unlike most combat mechs, the Golden Sentinel did not rely on traditional energy shields. Instead, it was equipped with dual arm blades and a small forearm-mounted buckler for defence. Its power came from a robust Luminal Engine and eight auxiliary thrusters, enabling swift, unpredictable manoeuvres. While it lacked in long-range firepower, its concealed scattergun—tucked inside the left arm—was more than sufficient for close-quarters emergencies.

  As the hostile men drew nearer, Golden Sentinel’s electronic eyes gleamed with a cold, golden light, locking onto the oncoming threats. Ash’s fingers tightened on the controls, ready to unleash his machine’s full potential. The mob might have had numbers, but they were about to discover that sheer force was no match for the cutting edge of precision.