I Became A Zompirewolf
242 The Key (3)
Joilla turned towards Aamon with one intention... sell him out. When it came to protecting his entire crew, the life of one Xyran wasn't too much to give away. However, Aamon had different plans.
The way Joilla looked at him was enough for him to know what was going inside the bastard's head. He was planning ot give him up to the pirates so that they would leave the rest of them alone.
Little did he know, these pirates never fulfilled their word. They had no value to honour the promises they made. In fact, Aamon was sure the moment the pirates got their hands on him, they would destroy the station to erase any witnesses.
But there was no point in arguing with Joilla. He wouldn't understand him and think Aamon was saying those things to save his butt. That's why, as soon as the pirates had backed off a bit, Aamon made a break towards his ship.
It was a risky move considering if the pirates got a whiff of the situation, they would blow up the space station in its entirety. But that was also the reason why he had to move quickly.
"Out of the way!" He roared at the top of his lungs while waving his plasma gun around.
He had no doubt the workers present in the station would try everything in their power to stop him from leaving, that's why he too was prepared to do anything necessary to leave. Even if it meant he would have to kill everyone on board the space station.
"Forget about the peace treaties within our races, if you so much as aim that gun at any of my workers, I'll personally rip your limbs apart!" Joilla yelled back at Aamon while rushing towards him.
"As if I'll let a barbaric bastard like you stop me!"
Aamon might have been a part of the higher civilisation, but he really wasn't all that strong and was merely at grade C. A grade which wasn't enough to face a Cynthillan like Joilla in combat as he was at least at Grade B.
The Xyran was pretty sure Joilla would do exactly what he had just said if he offended him anymore. Instead, he focused on getting away from there.
As long as he left the space station he could do a 'slip-jump' to another some other Xyran-controlled space station or planet and then think about taking care of Joilla and his crew.
Threatening a Xyran was a crime in itself, that's why Joilla would probably receive a harsh punishment if the word reached the higher-ups. It was probably another reason why he was so deadset on catching Aamon.
Despite what Aamon was planning to do, it didn't seem like lady luck was on his side this time to help him out.
"That damned bastard! Does he dare to sell me out to the pirates? I have to hide and contact lord Beelzebub before it's too late." Aamon cursed loudly to make sure everyone heard Beelzebub's name.
In a desperate attempt, Aamon was doing anything that could possibly save his life and Beelzebub's name was the strongest weapon he had in his arsenal. After all, he was called the gluttonous king for a reason.
In reality, even if Beelzebub got to know what Joilla did to his lackey, it was unlikely he would go out f his way to punish him and his crew. But Joilla and the rest of them didn't have to know this.
"This fucking insect bastard, I swear if I get out of here alive, I'll bathe in his blood!"
Aamon cursed Joilla under his breath but kept on running as multiple explosions could be seen on the outside... right where he had parked his spaceship. The hangar was completely obliterated, but the rest of the station was left relatively untouched, for now.
But with the hangar destroyed, all hopes of Aamon escaping from the space station were destroyed as well. Whatever little vehicles were still in somewhat okay condition, were unfit for long space travel.
Meaning Aamon was stuck there. He turned around to see Joilla was just as shocked as he was... meaning he wasn't the one to tell them the location of the hangar.
"Those fuckers dare attack my space station?" Joilla cursed through his gritted teeth, "I'm going to kill all of them, even if it's the last thing I do."
Saying so, he grabbed the radio attached to his belt and began spitting orders to various teams of workers stationed onboard. His plan was simple, if they were going to die, they would take the pirates along with them.
"This is your captain speaking. We are under attack by T.I.T. Pirates," He said, "I don't know why they are so hellbent on attacking us, but we will fight back! Load as much fuel as you can in whatever space vehicles we have. We'll launch a suicide attack on their ship. May Orion's energy be with you!"
"These people are maniacs..." Aamon mumbled.
Even if they attacked the pirate ship using fuel-filled vehicles, how the hell were they planning to get through the energy shield of the pirate's ship?
Their captain had literally told them to go and die in vain and yet these fools were roaring with enthusiasm? What the hell had the captain been feeding them to be so stupidly courageous?
"As for you," Joilla turned his attention towards Aamon, "I don't care who you are or which faction you belong to, you will not leave this station, if you do, forget about the pirates, I'll kill you myself."
But before he could get a chance to act on his words, the following moment Joilla's head fell off of his shoulders. His neck turned into a broken faucet, spewing his blood all over the place, including Aamon. But his death wasn't in vain... as even in his death, Joilla had helped Aamon a bit.
The camouflaged assassins were no longer camouflaged but had been marked with Joilla's blood. Aamon quickly went into action and before the plasma blades could touch him, he jumped away from the two assailants, ready to shoot them down at any moment.
"Look at this mad lad, pointing a gun at us." A man laughed before revealing himself, "What is that? A type 22 Plasma bolt-action revolver? You think you can even hurt us with a weapon like that?"
"Who are you?" Aamon didn't lower the gun down and asked them, "You look like a human."
"Oh please, we're far from human beings." the man dressed in black and red replied before pulling his mask aside, to reveal his ashen face.
"As much as I hate agreeing with him, Dracula is correct." The second man removed his helmet as well, "We're no longer humans."
Standing at 7'2", the latter guy looked as if he had been living inside a cave for most of his life. His elbow-length black hair resembled a bush, just like his beard. His oval face was accompanied by a variety of scars and burn marks, Making his appearance even more grotesque.
As for the former, he too was a fairly tall person but unlike his partner, had been taking good care of his clean-shaven face. His skin was also pearl white unlike the brownish skill of his partner. All in all, he was one of the most handsome creatures any being could set their eyes on.
Little did the spectators know, staring the Dracula in his crimson eyes would only result in their death.
"For fuck's sake Lycaon, I hate that name!" Dracula shook his head in dismay, "Call me Drake! Drake!"
"Shut up you whiny mosquito." Lycaon gave him an annoyed look before making his way toward Aamon.
Aamon was there, ready to take the shot, but then... he dropped his gun and shook Lycaon's hand?
"You people put up quite a performance out there, using explosives and all," Aamon smirked before turning his gaze towards the pirate ship as it slowly began destroying the rest of the space station.
"Don't blame us. You wanted it to seem real so we did whatever we had to." Lycaon replied, deactivating his plasma sword, "Hm... It would have been a better option to take in this Cynthillan. He would have made quite a great soldier."
"As if he would ever agree to help us with our mission." Aamon shrugged his shoulders before breaking a smile.
Meanwhile, Dracula was busy imitating Lycaon but stopped the moment the got progenitor of werewolves turned around.
"Grow up you fucking annoying bastard!"
"Pardon? What did I ever do to you?"
"Oh quit bickering like a married couple you two." Aamon jumped between them, "Let's just get rid of this space station and get back to your ship."
He said and walked away, leaving Lycaon and Dracula behind.
"Who made him the boss?" Dracula asked.
"Probably because he is our administrator? Let's get going, we have a lot to discuss. Especially regarding that 'Key' we planted on earth."
"You mean the brat I bit a like a year ago on earth?"
"How many keys are you aware of fucking moron." Lycaon shook his head in frustration before walking away.
"Tch, for a progenitor you sure have a foul tongue. Even Frank is better than you." Dracula complained, "Wait for me!"
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