Editing HEAVY OBJECT:Volume12 Chapter 2 (section)

===Part 7===

1: The enemy knew almost exactly where they were. Otherwise they would not be able to remove the metal containers that acted as a shield, drop those containers from above, or knock over entire stacks of containers. They could not afford to hit their own allies with those broad attacks, so they had to be in a position giving a view of the entire battlefield.

2: The enemy had not ben viewing the entire container yard with a satellite or UAV from the beginning. If they had, they would have immediately noticed something was amiss no matter how silently Quenser took out the guards. Most likely, they had quickly climbed to the top of the containers to gain a decent vantage point only after noticing the trouble.

3: The enemy could not let go of their mobile device. They were constantly controlling the gantry crane remotely, so that went without saying.

With the above three points in mind, Catherine Blueangel ran from container stack to container stack. She did not stop and then climb vertically like a mountain climber or cliff climber. It was like an extension of running. She would build up speed, jump, grab the edge of the container’s roof, kick off of the slight protrusions on the wall, and roll onto the higher level with her speed intact. It was a lot like an urban extreme sport.

Of course, she found several dark figures on top of the containers.

Elevated places were perfect for sniping.

With harsh gunshots, she knocked them down to the ground below and clicked her tongue.

(Those were normal snipers. My target is elsewhere.)

At that point, the gantry crane rumbled overhead.

A heavy metal container dangled from it and it swung like an Island Nation temple bell to knock down the entire stack of containers on which Catherine stood.

“Kh.”

The 12-year-old girl jumped down one level and ran toward the metal ladder horizontally connecting this stack to another. Meanwhile, a powerful impact caused the entire stack to crumble. Each block weighed more than ten tons, so if a corner slightly grazed her, it could tear off an arm or a leg.

She more leaped than ran across the ladder and escaped to the other stack.

A few seconds later, the first stack completely collapsed.

(They resorted to the crane, so I must be headed in the right direction!)

The gantry crane began to move again.

The four wires and mechanical claws connected to a nearby container. It looked like the enemy intended to slam it directly into her, but unlike the earlier surprise attack, she had seen this attack before. Catherine did not panic or rush as she took a running start and jumped on top of the dangling container.

Then she continued forward without slowing down.

(If they’re using a mobile device, the backlight has to always be shining on their face. Telling them apart from the other soldiers is easy!!)

She fired her military handgun a few times to take out a few snipers on other stacks.

She ran across the large container for a ten meter running start and then leaped across the dark container yard.

She flew in a gentle arc.

Time seemed to slow for everyone who saw it.

Then the 12-year-old braid girl accurately landed on the top of another container stack with feline grace.

The mobile user was right in front of her.

Surprisingly, it was a girl with long blonde hair who looked the same age as Catherine. She wore an elegant dress and wide-brimmed hat, but it was obvious at a glance that she was the same. Thanks to the rain, her bodylines and even the bright color of her skin showed through the dress. She was too lithely muscular and her frame was too solid for a high-class girl visiting a luxury resort.

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“!!”

“!?”

Catherine aimed her military handgun with one hand, but the mobile user flipped her soaked skirt around and kicked the gun to the side while showing off her legs up to the base of the thighs. The mobile user carried an assault rifle, but with the mobile device taking up one hand, she must not have been able to make proper use of the rifle and its heavy recoil. She tried to hold it like a light, but it was no use. During that brief moment of hesitation, Catherine grabbed the rifle, twisted it out of the other girl’s grasp, and threw it down off of the container.

They were both unarmed now.

Their fists and legs crossed paths a few times and they took a simultaneous step back.

Aware of a stinging pain in the back of her hand, Catherine took another look at the strange mobile user whose skirt fluttered like a matador’s cape.

“You have the scent of an Elite. But there’s something different about you. And your fighting style isn’t that of the clean wars.”

“Sorry, but I’m a freak created by the Object-less Northern Restricted Zone. And I hate proper Elites. Honestly, we use the same techniques, so why do you get paid so much more!?”