Chương 240: Lost Children

Slippy, one of the artificial children, scuttled through the shadows. Soon, he reached the roof of a nearby building, and observed the war-torn city. The battle between the coalition and Verne had not been kind to the inhabitants. Even now, the middle of the city was a hotly contested area. Neither side had successfully seized control of it, and Slippy could hear occasional cannonfire in the distance.

Both sides may have called for a truce, and the war may be winding down - but the fighting wouldn't stop until the treaty was signed. Slippy grimaced as he took in the devastation around him. Many of the buildings in the city had turned into rubble. The coalition forces had also put the civilians on their side of the city to work in the factories. The men, women, and even children on their side looked thin and anxious. Many of them carried bruises on their body. The civilians on the Vernse side looked better.

They didn't have the same haunted faces as the other side's civilians. But they still looked thin and cold. If this city were originally a coalition city, it would look the same, thought Slippy. The only difference would be which side abused the civilians more. Such was the nature of the war. Then, he shook his head with a mixture of disgust and resignation. In any case, it didn't matter to him anymore. He had been far more concerned about the war when it was a matter of his survival.

But after tonight, the war wouldn't have anything to do with him ever again. Slippy clambered down the side of the building and moved to another rooftop. He paused for a moment, and scanned his surroundings. It would be bad if either Verne's troops or the coalition's troops noticed him. He didn't think Vernese soldiers were trying very hard to catch him, but he didn't want to take any risks. It took him a few moments to verify that nobody had noticed him.

There wasn't anyone who had noticed a little shadow making its way through the city yet. He picked up the pace, and started moving forward again. As he moved forward, his thoughts started to drift. He wondered if the first artificial child had done the exact same thing as him, in the distant past. His superiors hadn't spoken of him very often, but he still knew of 'Felix', the first artificial child. Unlike 'Felix,' Slippy had fought in the war for two long years. He had successfully killed seventeen men.

His shadowblend ability and his exceptional physique made it easy to assassinate people. When he was younger, Slippy had dreamed that mysterious children would break him out and free him. Just like they had Felix. Unfortunately, reality was cruel. Rumor had it that Felix had been born with two abilities. It was as if Felix had drunk multiple ability potions while still in the test tube. Sometimes, Slippy wondered if that was why nobody had ever rescued him.

Unlike Felix, every other artificial child was born with no abilities. They were strong and had exceptional regeneration - but no actual abilities. At the age of six, he could arm-wrestle an adult and win. And he could recover from fatal wounds that no normal person could survive. If he was shot in the lungs or the stomach, he had a chance to live when no normal man would. When artificial children drank ability potions, they also displayed unmatched expertise with it.

They could adapt to their new abilities dozens of times faster than a regular soldier. But none of them ever reached the standards of the first child. Sometimes, Slippy hated that every single artificial child was compared to Felix. Being compared to someone they could never see or meet was frustrating. Slippy didn't understand why none of them were ever good enough, either. Slippy froze for a moment, as he heard the sound of a pair of boots making its way across the street.

I got distracted, he thought with a curse. Getting distracted in the middle of a risky action wasn't like him. He listened more closely to the sound of footsteps as they approached. Military boots, he thought with a grimace. Maybe I underestimated how much attention Verne would pay tonight. Or maybe Jack lied to me about the guard being lax tonight. He activated his ability. The shadows in his surroundings wriggled towards him, almost as if they were alive. A moment later, his form melted into the nearby shadows.

A few seconds later, the footsteps reached his location. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. To Slippy's complete bewilderment, he saw a malnourished child walking towards him. The child couldn't have been older than four. She had bright eyes that stuck out of her skull, and her cheeks were as thin as paper. She looked hungry. Somehow, she had gotten a pair of military boots. It was the very reason Slippy had been so on guard against her moments earlier.

The girl shivered in her rags, and looked in both directions. Moments later, she made her way towards a nearby trash can and started rifling through it. Slippy took that as an opportunity to slip away, while the child was distracted. But his heart was still hammering in his chest. He felt a moment of wariness. Had he misjudged the situation? Both sides of the war had agreed that Verne had lost and needed to pay the winners.

But Verne hadn't lost by much - the bigger reason peace was possible was because both sides were exhausted. Verne wanted to lose as little as possible, and give as few tools as possible to the winners. The winners wanted to take as much as possible, and weaken Verne as much as possible. He shouldn't be wrong. Slippy shook his head, and focused. He couldn't afford to doubt himself now. Soon, he approached the center of the Vernese half of the city.

He avoided the patrols of the soldiers and climbed past the roadblocks. The soldiers seemed unusually lax, which he was grateful for. It took him less than fifteen minutes to reach his destination. Slippy quietly infiltrated the camp, and then located the building he wanted. It was the building where he had spent the last two years of his life returning to. And today would be the last time he saw it. As Slippy crept towards his target, he heard a few voices. He froze again, and blended back into the shadows.

"-Hope that it ends soon. The war has bled us dry."

"At least they're suffering just as much as we are," said the other voice, followed by a derisive snort.

"Hard to believe that those little weasels actually won. Even if it wasn't by much." The other voice sighed.

"You know the war isn't over yet. The war doesn't end until the treaty is signed. Don't get distracted until the higher ups confirm we're going home."

"Still, some of the conditions they've imposed on us are too much. Losing so much of our research on Zelyrian ruins and artifacts might set us back decades -" Slippy stepped by the two chatting commanders, and continued on his way. They probably wanted him to succeed. But they might still stop him if they saw him. Two rooms away from the chatty commanders, he found a little trap door that led underground. It was completely unguarded. Normally, there were four guards set next to the trap door.

Today, there were none. Well, if that wasn't an obvious invitation, Slippy didn't know what was. He cracked open the trap door, and then hauled himself into the darkness. Just like above, there were none of the usual guards or security checks. Slippy grinned. He was correct. Verne wanted the children to escape before the treaty was signed. Or at the very least, his commander was giving him every opportunity to slip away. The coalition had demanded that Verne hand over all of its experimental children and research.

Verne would, indeed, comply with their demands once the treaty was signed. But what if all of those children escaped on their own before Verne handed them over? Well, in that case, that wasn't Verne's fault, was it? They just had an unfortunate desertion problem. They would still be complying with the peace treaty's terms perfectly. It was an exceptionally petty move. It probably wouldn't actually matter much, either. But it fit Verne's policies perfectly.

At least, that was what Slippy suspected the higher ups were thinking. It would certainly explain why the barracks of the experimental children was unguarded. Slippy put away his suspicions. In any case, it didn't really matter now. Whether it was a scheme by Verne or not had nothing to do with him anymore. He was free.

"Mint. Are you there?" he asked.

"I've already packed everything," she said.

"The others are also ready."

"Then let's go," said Slippy. He heard shuffling sounds as the others grabbed their bags, and spent a few moments gathering everything he owned. Two pistols. One dagger. A few water bottles. A book that he had stolen from a child in a fit of jealousy. Slippy ran his hands over the book's cover. When he had seen the child, he had been so jealous. That child had a mother who lived him. Slippy wished he could have the same. Slippy shook his head. They needed to move. Verne would still capture them if they were seen.

And so, seven figures slipped out of the special barracks and into the night.