The Arasaka agent swiftly charged up the stairs, quickly peeked around the corner, then ducked back behind cover.
The corridor was eerily silent, as if nothing had happened at all.
"Kojima? Are you still there?"
There were five rooms in the corridor, all their doors tightly shut.
"Damn it," the Arasaka agent cursed under his breath.
The situation was becoming increasingly dangerous. He had no idea which room his teammate had fallen in. If he opened doors one by one to search, the hidden attacker might seize the chance to take him down as well.
"Creak—"
The second door from the agent's position suddenly creaked open on its own. It opened inward, and from his angle at the stairway, the agent couldn't see inside the room.
He decided to take the risk. Adopting the standard posture for close-quarters room clearing, he cautiously moved toward the open door.
Just as he was about to see inside, a black figure darted out from the room, startling him.
The agent was well-trained. In a split second, he fired two shots into the figure's chest. Then, he realized who it was.
"Damn it—it's Kojima!"
He barely managed to jerk his aim upward, and the bullet that would've hit the figure's head instead struck the ceiling.
But the agent had overlooked something: someone else was hiding behind his now-deceased comrade.
Yogan, crouching low, sprang out at the same moment as the corpse. As expected, the body diverted the surviving agent's attention—and that moment of hesitation, ordinary under most circumstances, was his death knell.
From beside Kojima's corpse, a Lexington handgun extended and belched fire. With its extremely low recoil and blistering rate of fire, the bullets slashed like razors, severing the agent's right forearm clean off.
Then came a spray to the leg. Several rounds tore through the agent's kneecap, sending him sprawling uncontrollably. Only then did the pain hit, and the agent realized—he was under attack.
Yogan tossed aside the emptied Lexington and drew another pistol. His next target: the agent's eyes.
The firing resumed in less than a second. The Lexington roared again. Before the Arasaka agent could even glimpse his attacker, two bullets punched through his cybernetic eyes. But the high-end quality of the Arasaka implants saved his life. Though the eyes were destroyed, the bullets were caught in the damaged mechanical sockets, sparing him from instant death.
But the pain—oh, the pain. It flooded him in a wave, as if the sensory filter had broken. The agent, now blind, was drowning in agony.
Desperate, he reached for the gun he'd dropped. But his attacker showed no mercy. Another shot shattered his left hand.
"Ugh—ARGHHHH!" he howled in agony.
Someone stepped on his uninjured left leg. Then, a voice, young yet eerily manic, drifted into his ears.
"Who do you work for, hmm? Oh, sweetheart, you're in a terrible state."
To Yogan's horror, he realized he was no longer in control of his own body. It was as if he had become a mere observer, while another will had taken over.
The pain left the Arasaka agent mute. "Yogan's" face curved into a wicked smile as he gently pressed the pistol barrel into the agent's leg wound.
"ARGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" The screams echoed through the corridor.
"Yogan" didn't stop there. He kept jabbing the gun into the already mangled leg. The real Yogan, watching from inside, couldn't take it anymore. He mustered all his strength to wrest back control of his body.
The agent soon screamed himself hoarse, reduced to rasping wheezes.
"Yogan" leaned in close to his ear and softly asked, "Feeling more awake now? Don't worry. The pain means you're alive. Now, tell me—Jenkins or Abernathy? Who do you work for?"
With his final ounce of strength, the Arasaka agent growled, "Go to hell, kid!"
He had wanted to spit in Yogan's face—but lacked even the strength for that.
"Yogan" chuckled, raised the pistol toward the collapsed agent, and said—
"Wrong answer."
Then he fired again and again—not aiming to kill, but to punish. The bullets started at the agent's left foot and crept slowly upward, shredding the only intact leg he had left.
The man howled once more in inhuman agony. Meanwhile, "Yogan's" smile stretched wider and wider.
As the agent's screams weakened, "Yogan's" laughter grew louder, escalating into a deranged, high-pitched cackle.
Suddenly, the expression on Yogan's face froze. His owl-like, bone-chilling laughter abruptly cut off into a choked hiccup. The real Yogan had finally gained the upper hand and began to reclaim his body.
With a violent jerk, Yogan threw his head back, then slammed his face into the wall.
Blood trickled down from his forehead, and his nose poured like a faucet—but the searing pain helped anchor his mind and restore control.
Yogan stumbled, crawled, and dragged himself back into the room, reaching desperately for the anti-psychosis medication on the desk.
Just then, the second personality stirred.
"No!!!"
The voice rang out, neither male nor female, ageless and inhuman. It sounded both next to his ear and deep inside his mind.
Yogan felt a force trying to pry open his fingers, struggling to keep the medication away from his face.
Gritting his teeth, Yogan forced the inhaler mask to his mouth.
Hiss—gasp—hiss—gasp.
He didn't care. He inhaled deeply, sucking in both medicine and blood. He coughed, spewing some of the blood from his nose, then kept inhaling, desperate for relief.
The overdose kicked in quickly. Yogan began to feel his body again. The pain in his forehead and nose returned in sharp waves. And with it came the flood of memories—what had just happened played again in his mind.
"Blaaaargh—!"
He vomited bile.
Slumping to the floor, he trembled uncontrollably. Fear and nausea twisted his face. Tears streamed as sobs and retching overtook him. Blood mixed with snot gushed from his nose, unstoppable.
"Fk... fk... f**k..."
This glitch from the system startup left him speechless—no word came to him except profanity.
Then he remembered—"Oh right, V!"
Yogan scrambled to contact V. The dial tone dragged on endlessly, each second an eternity.
"Please pick up... I'm begging you..."
"Yogan, what's—"
"Watch out! Arasaka's coming! Arasaka's coming!"