The real world, a desolate suburb.
Several unfinished buildings towered over the area. Compared with the nearby small city, this place was much more deserted. Aside from the sparse vehicles passing along the highway, the suburb could already be considered barren.
Boom!
Flames from an explosion shot into the sky. At the center of the blast, a man in a gray shirt, not yet thirty years old, stood within the fire. A grid-like scar ran across his left cheek, giving him a rather fierce appearance.
The man was carrying a severed leg in one hand, his body covered in splattered blood. Strangely, the flames did not harm his clothes. They merely burned the blood on them with a sizzling sound, giving off an unpleasant charred smell.
Puff, puff...
The sound of a pistol fitted with a suppressor rang out. The bullets struck the man's chest and passed straight through, as if piercing soft mud.
"Calm... down. Your... wife... isn't dead yet."
A young man in a black suit lay on the ground, one leg severed. Though he was gravely wounded, he was still trying desperately to salvage the situation.
"No. She's already dead."
The man with the grid-like scar spoke. Though he looked fierce, every Cleaner involved in this battle knew that he was a gentle man when it came to his wife.
"Winter Crocodile, calm down. Don't damn well throw your life away."
A Cleaner member stood outside the unfinished building with his back against the wall. He held an iron-black pistol that was clearly quite heavy. As for its power, with C-type ammunition, it could shoot straight through a Second Order Contractor's body. After all, Contractors had no equipment bonuses in the real world and could not use active abilities.
"If she's dead, I never planned on living!"