BLACK LAGOON: Rock's Choice - The Spider's Web of Roanapur - The Showdown Pier — The Night a Weakling Becomes a Villain

The smell of the burned-out warehouse still clung to the back of his nose. Rock sat in the back seat of the armored van, staring at his trembling fingertips. The cuffs of his white dress shirt were stained with soot, and the small scar above his left eyebrow caught the streetlight for a fleeting moment. "...You okay?" Dutch glanced into the rearview mirror through his goggle sunglasses. Bulging muscles under dark skin. A shaved head and deep wrinkles. The boss of Lagoon Company was calm, as always. "Yeah. I'm fine." His voice came out steadier than he'd expected. Beside him, Levy was chewing gum and polishing her twin pistols. Black tank top, hot pants. The tips of her ponytail bounced slightly. The tattoo running from her neck to her right elbow glowed pale blue in the moonlight. "Your hands are shaking, you know." Her amber eyes skewered his fingertips. "...Sorry." "Don't apologize. It pisses me off." Levy crushed her gum with a chew and looked out the window. Twenty minutes had passed since they'd left the Lagoon Company warehouse at the western edge of the old town. The armored van sped east along a road with few streetlights. Through cobblestone alleys, across the Ishin Bridge, approaching Pier Three. "Let's go over the plan one more time." "Please." Rock looked at the hand-drawn map spread across his knees. A sketch of Pier Three. Twelve hundred meters of quay, roughly eight hundred containers. Seven warehouses belonging to the Zhang group, with a checkpoint in the center. At night, the guard detail was halved. But not tonight. Asahi Heavy Industries' private soldiers—the Purifiers—were supposed to have joined them. "We send a decoy truck into the east side of the pier. Blow it, draw the guards east. While they're distracted, I infiltrate alone from the west. Take out the private soldiers on guard." "Dutch and I smash through the warehouse wall in the armored van. Inside, we search for the Scarlet Mist samples." "Right. And you're going in with just a stun gun. You've got guts, I'll give you that." "I can't use a gun." "Oh, how noble." "...Sorry." "I told you to stop apologizing." Levy holstered her polished pistol. Israeli-made, 9mm. The silver slide caught the moonlight. "Rock." Dutch spoke quietly. "Yeah." "This is your operation. Keep your head in it till the end. Levy and I move on your orders." Rock gripped the map tighter. (My operation.) (A former salaryman's operation.) Deep in his chest, something pulsed—small, but unmistakable. The armored van parked in the shadow of an abandoned warehouse just short of Pier Three. The sea breeze blew warm and damp. The smell of tide mixed with the smell of heavy oil. In the distance, waves crashed against the quay. "Time is twenty-three forty-seven." Dutch checked his watch. "The decoy truck reaches the east side of the pier in thirteen minutes. Detonation at exactly midnight. Until then, Levy, get over the west fence." "Roger." Levy opened the door. "...Levy." "What?" "Don't push yourself too hard." Levy turned around. Her amber eyes glinted gold in the moonlight. "Me, push myself too hard? As if that's even possible." She drew her twin pistols. "You're the one who'd better not die with a stun gun in your hand." "I won't die." "Oh, how reassuring." Levy laughed and vanished into the dark. Her footsteps faded almost instantly. Rock gripped his radio. "...Dutch." "Yeah." "Back then, Balalaika said something to me. 'You're clever, aren't you?' ...Those words feel awfully heavy right now." "Heavy is fine. That's what being clever means." Dutch gripped the wheel again. "Let's go. Ten minutes to midnight." Then— BOOOOM! The eastern sky flashed orange for an instant. The decoy truck had exploded. "That's early!?" "No, it's on schedule. Our clock's off. Move!" The armored van roared forward. Tires bit into gravel, the chassis shaking violently. Rock clutched his seatbelt. "Levy, can you hear me!? It's already started!" Levy's voice crackled back over the radio. "Perfect! I've already taken out three on my end!" Bang bang bang! Gunshots echoed through the radio. "You guys get over here already!" "Roger. We're hitting Warehouse Seven on the west side!" The armored van smashed through the fence on the west side of the pier. CRAAASH!! The chain-link tore against the bumper. "Rock, hold on!" Dutch floored the accelerator. The armored van wove through the maze of containers. Left, right. At every sharp turn, Rock's body slammed against the seat. "There it is! Warehouse Seven!" "Can we make it!?" "Of course we can!" Dutch aimed the armored van at the warehouse wall. "We're going in!!" KRA-BOOOOM!! The armored van smashed through the warehouse shutter. The screech of crumpling metal. Sparks flew, dust billowed. "Move, Rock!" Dutch leaped out with a shotgun. Rock followed, stun gun in hand. The inside of the warehouse was dim. A few fluorescent lights flickered overhead. Steel pillars lined the space, stacked with wooden crates and oil drums. "...Quiet." "Yeah. The guards should've been drawn east. But we can't let our guard down." The two advanced cautiously toward the back of the warehouse. "Rock, look at this." Dutch stopped in his tracks. A silver metal case sat on a stand. "...The Scarlet Mist samples." Rock approached the case. He reached out his hand. Then— "Well, hello there, Okajima." Rock's hand froze. From the shadows of a container at the back of the warehouse, a man appeared. Black suit. White dress shirt. A neatly knotted tie. Silver-rimmed glasses. A thin smile. Genzo Omori. Director of Asahi Heavy Industries' Second Materials Division. Rock's former boss. "...Mr. Omori." "It's been a while. Glad to see you're doing well." Omori clapped slowly. "Well now, that was a splendid operation. The decoy truck, the infiltration from the west, the armored van breach. Magnificent. Nothing like the salaryman you used to be." "...If you're here, that means—" "That's right. Your operation was an open book." Omori smiled. "Too bad. Your grand reversal ends here." "Rock, get back." Dutch raised his shotgun. "Dutch, wait. He's my... former boss." "I know. That's exactly why you're the one who settles this." Rock looked at Omori. "Mr. Omori. You're trying to drag me back to Asahi Heavy Industries. Using my family as hostages. ...But my family already sold me out. Things won't go the way you want." "Oh?" Omori narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. "And? What exactly do you think you can do to me?" "You're going to hand over the transaction data." "Hahaha." Omori laughed out loud. "Don't be absurd. A weakling like you, against me?" "...I'm not a weakling anymore." Rock's voice was quiet. "I've decided to live in this city. Not you, not Balalaika, not Zhang. No one's going to pull my strings anymore." "Insolent. A mere salaryman." Omori drew a self-defense pistol from inside his suit. "If you don't want to die, get out of my way. I'm taking this data home. Your family's lives depend on my mood." "...My family doesn't matter anymore." "Oh? What a cold man." Omori aimed the pistol at Rock. "Then die." Bang! The gunshot echoed through the warehouse. Rock closed his eyes. But the pain never came. "...Ngh!" A familiar voice, strained with pain. Rock opened his eyes. Levy stood in front of him. Blood flowed from her left shoulder. A red streak traced down the black of her tank top, slid across the tattoo on her elbow, and dripped from her fingertips. "Levy!" "Jeez... You almost died, you idiot!" Levy aimed both pistols at Omori. The sound of her gritting teeth reached Rock's ears. "You're gonna pay for that." "Oh? Levy. The dual-wielding gunman, just as the rumors say." Omori's smile didn't waver. "But unlike you people, I don't have time to spare." Omori grabbed his briefcase and ran for the emergency exit. "You're not getting away!" Levy pulled the trigger. Bang bang! The bullets struck the steel emergency door. Sparks flew, and the smell of scorched iron filled the air. But Omori was already outside. "Damn it!" "Levy, you're bleeding!" "This is just a graze. We're going after him!" "Wait. Don't push yourself—" "Shut up! If you die, who's gonna pay for my bullets!?" Levy grabbed Rock's arm and ran for the emergency exit. Her palm was slick with blood. Outside, the black car Omori had gotten into was speeding away down the pier road. "Dutch! The van!" "I know!" Dutch swung the armored van around. "Get in!" The three leaped into the armored van. "We are stopping that car!" "No, wait." Rock gripped the radio. "Omori's car will flee east. The east passage is littered with debris from the explosion. ...Dutch, drive Omori's car into the east passage!" "What are you planning?" "There was a forklift in front of the warehouse. I'll drive it into the debris. Right when Omori's car turns that corner." "...You're going to do that right now?" "Yes. I'll direct you by radio. Dutch, you drive Omori's car toward that corner. I'll move the forklift." "Can you even drive a forklift?" "I don't have a license. But I have no choice." "You really are something else!" Levy laughed through the blood. "Dutch, please." "Roger. I trust your orders." Rock jumped out of the armored van. His feet hit the ground hard. Stumbling, he ran to the forklift parked in front of the warehouse. Every time his soles bit into the gravel, his knees threatened to buckle. "...Move. Come on, move." The key was still in the ignition. Rock climbed into the driver's seat and turned the key. Brrrrm... The engine caught. The heat of the exhaust hit his calves. "Good." Rock brought the radio to his mouth. "Dutch, where's Omori's car!?" "Thirty seconds till it rounds your corner!" "Roger! I'm driving the forklift into the debris!" Rock stepped on the accelerator. The forklift lurched forward slowly. "Faster...!" Rock gripped the wheel. Sweat beaded on his palms. Ahead, he could see the mountain of debris scattered by the explosion. "I can make it... I can make it!" The forklift plowed into the debris and climbed on top of it. The chassis tilted at an angle, and the sound of iron teeth crushing stone reverberated through his bones. "Now!" Rock stopped the forklift dead in the middle of the passage. The next instant— SKREEEE!! Omori's car came around the corner. "What!?" Omori's car slammed on the brakes. The tires screamed, white smoke billowing up. But it was too late. CRAAASH!! The car smashed into the forklift. The hood crumpled, white smoke rising. Headlight glass scattered across the ground. "I did it...!" Rock jumped down from the forklift. He ran to Omori's car. "Mr. Omori. Get out." Omori crawled out of the car, blood streaming from his forehead. His suit trousers were torn at the knees, his tie askew. "...You'll pay for this." Omori's voice was shaking. "Hand over the transaction data." "...Is this what you want?" Omori held up the briefcase. "This isn't something a weakling like you should be carrying. This is critical data that will reshape the balance of power in this city." "...Which is exactly why I can't let you have it." Rock took a step toward Omori. "I'm not your subordinate anymore. I'm not an Asahi Heavy Industries employee. I'm Rock, of Lagoon Company." Omori glared at Rock. "...Insolent." Omori threw the briefcase at Rock. "Take it. But remember this. Asahi Heavy Industries will never forgive you. Those who betray the company face elimination under the name of 'reassignment.'" Omori staggered to his feet. "Your family, your comrades—they'll all go to hell." "...I have no family anymore. And my comrades—I'll protect them myself." Rock looked Omori straight in the eye. "This is the end, Mr. Omori." Omori glared at Rock for a while.

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Episode 7

Name: BLACK LAGOON: Rock's Choice - The Spider's Web of Roanapur
Author: Novelia

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