Dancing with Wolf Tonight

Dancing with Wolf Tonight

Wolf had been waiting for a long time.

It had received a distress signal aboard its own hunting vessel, then immediately rushed to this distant planet known as "Earth." This was its duty; it had always been responsible for dealing with the failures and mistakes of its kind. The equipment it carried varied according to the caliber of the opponent.

What adult would seriously fight a child? In Yautja culture, using powerful weapons to kill weak prey could even be called disgraceful. Thus, when it descended from the sky, it carried only a basic Plasma Shoulder Cannon and some close-combat weapons. It had brought only one set of Laser Lockdown Devices.

That set of lockdown devices had already been used in its recent battle against the Xenomorph swarm in the sewers. That unexpected Predalien had indeed posed a challenge to it while lightly equipped, but it was Wolf, a veteran among the elite. It believed it would surely claim the final victory.

It had failed.

And that failure could not be remedied.

The Predalien had escaped from the sewers, while it had been lured elsewhere. Not to the inexplicably heavily guarded nuclear power plant built by the local natives, but farther away, to a medical facility housing many injured natives and their young—it had successfully dealt with the Xenomorphs before they could use the wounded to delay it and stain its honor. Yet as it beheaded those Xenomorphs amid the torrential rain, an inexplicable feeling arose within it.

The Predalien had already been killed, slain by the local natives—by a warrior among them. And that should have been a fierce battle filled with honor.

Its prey had died at another's hands.

It could no longer wash away the disgrace of letting its prey escape before its eyes.

It was furious, but it did not act rashly. The scent of blood coming from the top of the medical facility drew it in. When it reached the rooftop, it saw a Xenomorph carcass, the corpse of a male native, and a female native whose body had been half melted by Xenomorph acid blood, barely clinging to life inside a native flying vehicle.

It had no interest in the old, weak, sick, or crippled, so it casually dissolved the Xenomorph carcass with solvent. However, it might have underestimated the intimidation brought by its hulking, savage appearance. Before it even did anything, the female native, like a small animal frightened out of its wits, spilled a great deal of intriguing information.

She did not seem to be a native—she appeared to be a hunter sent by a civilization called the Main God. Though it did not know why these hunters were so weak, her understanding of the Yautja exceeded its expectations.

Wolf became interested. This might be an important matter involving a hostile hunting civilization. Though it did not know why the female let out a shrill scream as if she had been stabbed when it uploaded the phrase "Main God" into the Yautja Database, that did not stop it from interrogating more information from her.

Enemies and the old, weak, sick, and crippled were two different concepts. A Yautja would not hesitate in the slightest merely because the former possessed the traits of the latter. Yet even after it skinned her as thoroughly as it had the native warrior who had first discovered it destroying Xenomorph traces, it gained little of value.

Except for one thing.

"He'll come back! That man will come back! He'll return here... Ask him! He's ten times stronger than me—he definitely knows more! Spare me, I've already told you everything!"

Not entirely true.

Wolf could read the female's resentment in it. This sounded more like framing someone than leaking intelligence. But one thing was certain: this hunting squad from the Main God did indeed have a powerful warrior, and that warrior had chosen to act freely from the very beginning.

It was him.

He had absolutely stolen its prey.

Then this medical facility should be where powerful warriors hunted one another.

Wolf felt satisfied. Thus, it chose to wait here.

It had waited here for a long time, until the rainwater brought by the storm was nearly flooding its ankles.

...He had come.

At the bottom of the medical facility, on the street, the alien warrior carrying the Predalien's head raised his gaze toward it.

Their eyes met, their wills collided. The next moment, that savage head was hurled violently toward Wolf's position—and precisely struck a ball of plasma fired from the shoulder cannon in midair!

Boom—

Shattered flesh vanished into the falling curtain of rain. This was a signal silently understood between warriors. And the alien warrior on the street had already disappeared without a trace!

The final hunt had begun.

Si Ming stepped forward.

His form was completely erased beneath the Dusk-colored Battle Qi Veil, and his body had already entered a quiet town hospital—the United States was not like China; medical expenses here were extremely costly. Even though the Xenomorph disaster had gradually begun and been suppressed in its infancy, at least until dawn, not many people would set foot in the hospital.

Being poor was more terrifying than dying. That was common sense in this country. He swept past the hospital reception desk and security guards like a breeze.

The hunt had already begun.

Communication between warriors required only one exchanged glance.

He had stolen its prey, and it wanted his head. Thus, it was a fight to the death.

—The Plasma Shoulder Cannon was the greatest threat.

Si Ming climbed to the second floor, making no sound as he moved like a shadow in the darkness. He had deliberately kept the Predalien's head and thrown it out in order to test the power and projectile speed of the Plasma Shoulder Cannon. The Yautja were a race that valued warrior honor, and their rituals before acknowledged opponents were quite elaborate. Taking a head was proof of one's valor; before he discarded it, there was only a small chance the other side would launch a sneak attack.

His judgment had been correct. Wolf had indeed not acted. His plan had been accurate as well. Wolf would not accept another's kill, and its duty was to completely erase the disgrace of the Predalien species.

There was a small chance it would use a disc or spear, but that would still deplete its arsenal. More likely, it would directly fire the Plasma Shoulder Cannon at the head, exposing its power and projectile speed.

—Its power was immense, comparable to a tank's main cannon. Its projectile speed was also much faster than the compromise made in the movies for visual effect. It was slower than a firearm, but still exceeded half the speed of sound. Within ten meters, even if I observed the muzzle, it would be difficult to evade.

A direct hit would kill him, and even a graze would seriously injure him. But even loaded with high-explosive shells, the AA12 in Si Ming's hands would struggle to directly penetrate Yautja armor. The battlefield thus tilted slightly against him, but the advantage still remained in Si Ming's hands.

The Yautja detection system operated on thermal sensing. Against the Night Battle Qi Veil, which could perfectly contain sound and heat, it was of little use.

Si Ming stopped.

His ears twitched slightly, and strands of Night Battle Qi clung especially to his palms and soles. Before him lay an utterly ordinary quiet corridor, and he silently climbed to its upper section.

Gecko Wall-Climbing Technique.

Of course, he had never practiced this kind of "traditional martial art," but during bloody battles in another world, he had developed this Battle Qi manipulation technique himself. By imitating an accretion disk, he could move swiftly and silently across walls and ceilings.

He did not move.

More clumps of Battle Qi extended outward under the command of his will, ensuring that no debris or dust from the ceiling would suddenly fall.

One second, two seconds.

The corridor below seemed perfectly normal, but Si Ming clearly sensed the abnormal movement of air. A vague outline emerged within his highly concentrated perception. It seemed Wolf had chosen the same method to enter the battle.

He pursed his lips.

The shotgun muzzle lowered.

A flash of fire—

Boom!!!

Something was hit, something was shattered. The gun's roar came with Wolf's pained howl. Without hesitation, Si Ming sprang away, his strength erupting. He did not even pull the trigger a second time before launching himself through the air toward the glass window of an empty examination room to the side, a window already tested by Night Battle Qi!

The window shattered as blue plasma fired simultaneously. The instant Si Ming fled, a plasma blast violently struck his former hiding place. At this close range, the high-energy strike was clearly more powerful than the outdoor shots!

The building trembled slightly, and the ceiling structure of the corridor was blown apart. Yet Si Ming had already successfully slipped into the side room. He casually tossed down a fragmentation grenade with a shortened fuse, did not pause at all, and passed through the other door of the empty room toward another corridor across from it.

Another explosion rang out.

The explosion in the enclosed space was accompanied by a faint bloody scent that suddenly spread. His opening ambush had inflicted a minor injury. That meant the opponent's armor had been damaged, and its cloaking function had naturally failed with it.

A small victory, but Si Ming did not stop. A flashbang followed the fragmentation grenade, and he had already crashed open another door. Yet he did not enter, instead shifting in concealment to the corner of the corridor.

The ground began to tremble.

Invisible yet tangible shockwaves entered Si Ming's senses. The entire quiet hospital awoke at that moment, while most Americans, accustomed to gunfire, immediately crouched down with their heads covered, hid in the nearest enclosed rooms, and held their breath without daring to move.

The variables had been reduced.

But those with poor nerves still cried out. And those cries might mislead Wolf to some extent.

"Ah—!" That was the first cry.

And a plasma explosion struck the location of that voice.

The direction entered Si Ming's ears, and he immediately stepped forward again. Yet when he crossed the corridor once more and was about to successfully flank Wolf from behind, he suddenly stopped before an intersection.

Something was wrong.

His heart convulsed violently from the sense of danger.

It was not an attack, but a trap. Night Battle Qi sharply amplified his senses. Upon the smooth tiled floor, he caught a faint red light.

A Laser Lockdown Device?

No, it was not. He took out a mirror prepared in advance and extended it forward, successfully capturing the hidden object around the corner.

It was a Claymore Mine. It most likely belonged to that slightly overweight veteran. Clearly, they had remained in the hospital, and they had already met their end.

—Good for nothing, ruining everything.

But if the Battle Qi Veil could deceive Yautja scanners, it should naturally be able to evade the laser detection of an ordinary Claymore Mine. Then—

Heavy, rapid footsteps sounded nearby.

And an extremely thin tripwire entered Si Ming's eyes, though he did not panic—the planted Claymore Mines numbered two, and they were activated in two different ways!

Cunning, but Si Ming was even more cunning.

With a tug and a pull, the released Night Battle Qi triggered the Claymore. The next moment, the Yautja that had rushed in vain was greeted by the steel pellets and flames prepared for it!