Villain: Supreme Parasite System in Another World-Chapter 35: Tactical Predator 4

A slight lift of the captain’s chin revelead his frustration.

"This is not a request. It’s an order," he snapped. "We’re in an active operation zone. You don’t just opt out because you feel like it."

Rodriguez lowered his head. "I know the protocol, Captain. I’m not trying to disrespect it. I just... I’ve been in this force for almost twenty years. I’ve done my share."

The captain opened his mouth again, ready to shut it down.

But one of the younger agents stepped forward first.

"Captain. Let him sit this one out. He’s been working for the force for too long. I think he deserves this."

Another voice followed almost immediately.

"He’s not going to slow us down if he stays here. And honestly... we can handle this without him."

The truck behind them idled loudly, lights flashing against the dark alley. The tension between duty and exhaustion hung in the air.

Their captain looked at Rodriguez for a few seconds.

"You know what’s out there. And you still want to walk away from it?"

Rodriguez nodded once. "That’s exactly why I want to walk away from it. I don’t know... I just feel off today. You know me—I never back away from a mission."

The captain exhaled through his nose, then looked away.

"...Fine. You stay. But you stay alert. If anything changes, you report immediately."

Rodriguez let out a breath he had been holding for too long.

"Understood, Captain. Thank you. I’ll treat you all once I get my retirement paycheck. Best steak in this city."

"Rodriguez, don’t. I really don’t feel like eating meat right now." He let out a small chuckle, the tension in his face gone.

"Sorry about that. I’ll just buy all the drinks then."

The moment he said it, the group broke into cheers. They turned toward each other and shared quick, excited high-fives, the mood lightening all at once.

"Let’s head out!"

The team began moving. One by one, they climbed in, checking weapons, adjusting gear, preparing for whatever came next. The atmosphere shifted back into mission mode.

Rodriguez lingered near the side of the street.

For the first time that night, his shoulders relaxed.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. After a moment of hesitation, he lit it. The small flame flickered in the wind before he tossed it away.

"I’m quitting smoking. When I retire, I’ll spend more time with my princess. " A wide smile formed on his lips.

Within the shadows, Francis was already moving. His mind locked onto the target. He mapped the fastest way to kill as he advanced.

Then something caught his attention.

Rodriguez opened his wallet, checking something absentmindedly before putting it away again.

A photo slipped into view for only a second.

A smiling child.

Then another.

His daughters.

And lastly, there was a picture of them with him. They looked over twenty now.

Francis stopped completely.

For the first time, his focus broke—not from danger, but from something else entirely.

’Cherish your kids,’ he muttered under his breath.

The words felt wrong coming from him. Too soft for what he was—and for what he had done, and what he would still do in the future.

But he said it anyway before turning his attention back to the others.

The captain was the last one to enter the truck. He grabbed the interior handle and pulled the rear doors shut behind him with a heavy clang.

"We’re set," he called toward the partition. "Take us out."

From the front, the driver gave a short double-tap on the partition wall in acknowledgment.

The truck moved forward.

Inside, the agents settled into the benches lining either side of the cargo hold, weapons resting across knees or tucked between boots.

They were cracking jokes to decrease the tension on their shoulders, not knowing that the predator they were searching for had already slipped beneath their vehicle.

The gap between the engine and the road was narrow, but narrow was Francis’s natural condition.

He moved with the vehicle as it began to pull away, scales finding grip against the chassis, and located the access panel near the rear — a maintenance hatch, thin metal, bolted from the outside.

Four bolts. Old threading.

He didn’t need tools.

By the time the truck had traveled half a block, he was already inside.

He rose between the rear benches slowly, already aware of every angle in the compartment.

But instead of striking immediately, something caught his attention.

A familiar object. The same type of stun grenade from earlier.

’Good.’

Without drawing attention, he pulled the pin and let it roll.

At first, the agents barely noticed.

"Did something fall?"

"Check the floor—"

FLASH!

The inside of the truck became a sun.

Detonations overlapped — four distinct concussive blooms compressing into a single wall of light and sound that had nowhere to go inside a sealed metal box.

The pressure slammed off every surface simultaneously. Men and women were thrown against walls, against each other, weapons clattering loose, hands flying up to faces that were already useless.

Several agents instinctively reached for the walls, losing balance as the truck swerved slightly from the driver’s delayed reaction to the noise inside.

Francis came off the floor in the same motion the light peaked, scales absorbing the heat without registering it as pain.

’20 seconds.’

He began his brutal slaughter, and the worst part—they didn’t even know what killed them.

One moment they were cursing and trying to regain their composure.

The next, a brutal impact slammed into their heads, like a shotgun fired at point-blank range.

They didn’t even have time to scream or beg for mercy. Their lives ended instantly, like animals brought down in a slaughterhouse.

SCREECH

The driver slammed the brakes abruptly. Concerned by the noise, he opened the partition to check the rear.

What greeted him was a pile of dead bodies with deformed skulls.

"What—"

crack!

Francis’s tail struck the driver’s mouth, passing completely through the back of the head.

When he pulled it back, blood and brain tissue splattered across the seat, and the driver’s body went limp against the steering wheel.

The scene was outright horrific, but Francis didn’t care.

He took what he needed and moved for the maintenance hatch beneath the truck.

His next plan was to use the sewer system again and strike the next location.

However, he suddenly felt a vibration pass through the ground.

Instinctively, he knew something was very wrong.

BOOOM!

The road, the truck, and everything around it were swallowed by a violent force. If he had been even a fraction of a second slower, he would have been caught in the initial blast and died instantly.

Francis used the force of the shockwave to launch himself away, his body thrown into motion like a snapped wire.

Instead of checking what kind of bomb hit him, he focused entirely on escape.

’Change of plan. I need to get out of here. Fast.’

Just now, he felt another tingling sensation—but it was different from the one he felt from the scanner.

No. This was worse. Way worse.

It was like a far bigger predator had locked its sight on him.