What Does Armed Mean On Blink の小説・ストーリー

We hoped to squash the threat on the border and amongst the trees, but it was best to over prepare, to prepare for anything- even the worst. I was first on the list to volunteer, and Leona happily took me along with her and Torrance to barricade a home on the North side of town. We looked like regular construction workers, suited up in our toughest jeans and work belts. I'd borrowed a pair of safety goggles from Beta Gideon's workshop, and Leona had helped pull my unruly hair back into two tight braids. Armed with a nail gun, I made my way over to one of the wide windows facing the tree line. Torrance jogged up alonside me, her wild curls already unraveling fron her braids with each bouncing

Suddenly, a deafening roar split the sky. Several armed police helicopters thundered overhead. Their blinding white searchlights enveloped the highway, lighting up the darkness like it was broad daylight.

I twist away but pain sears through my arm and I double over, clutching at the wound. The butt of a gun connects to my temple and my vision fades for a moment. Disoriented and groggy, I watch through blurred vision as a pair of boots come to a stop in front of me. The figure crouches down and I see the armband with a phi symbol around his arm. He presses the gun under my bulletproof vest and fires. The pain is a searing, burning sensation that feels like it's spreading through my entire body. I try to lift my gaze but another blow connects and everything goes dark.

"You can have agents there. Can monitor everything. But you cannot stop us from attending." "I can arrest you for your own protection." "On what grounds? I have not been convicted of anything. I am technically free to attend business events." "You are recovering from surgery and were just threatened by a known dangerous person." "Then assign protection. Make sure we are safe. But do not try to stop us." Declan's grip on my hand tightened. "This ends tomorrow night. One way or another." Morrison stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. But you follow our protocols. You wear tracking devices. You stay within designated safe zones. And the moment Elena does anything threatening, my

Blake Turner snickered, presuming the facial expressions behind the mask. "The arms…" Shadow trailed off, touching the special kind of arms in the box. "These arms are exactly what I wanted." "You can choose whatever arms you want. We are involved with the arms business anyway." Blake Turner stood up, taking out a Sobranie cigarette from his pocket. "Master, you cannot randomly smoke," Shadow interrupted when the leader was about to light the cigarette. "You need to take care of your health." "Just one cigarette won't kill me," Blake smiled gently, tilting his head a bit.

The mirror swung out like a door, revealing a wall of steel behind it. I just stared. Williams leaned closer to the steel. A thin red line of light went down over his face. “Facial recognition,” he explained calmly. “It’s a backup security measure. The best way to keep people out of a safe is to make sure they don’t even know it exists.” Hence, the mirror. Williams pushed the door inward, and I followed him into the armory. When I’d heard the word armory, I’d pictured something out of a movie: black metal shelves, ammo belts, and walls covered in guns like a war room.

They have a huge chance of joining the fray when bullets are exchanged in the air. He raised his aim and gestured at Nagar behind him, who also trained his weapon at the armed men in the second floor. They halted and fired simultaneously, each of the men's foreheads bursts apart in red before they slumped against the wall. Lukas grinned. Had it not for the Agency's tech installed within their armors that worked wonders, the men would have spotted them and Hell will break lose. It never failed to impress him. They advanced further. A large crowd of armed men gathered around a sari-sari store. Lukas instantly recognized the black spider tattoos on their wrists.

Armano stood there. He was in full riot gear—black tactical vest, heavy boots, helmet with the visor pushed back. A rifle was slung over his shoulder, and a sidearm was holstered at his thigh. He looked like he had stepped out of a dystopian future. He was covered in soot, and a small cut above his eyebrow was welling with blood. He stepped forward, grabbing my arm and hauling me up. His grip was iron, bruising. "Are you insane?" he hissed, his face inches from mine. His eyes were wild, frantic—not with fear, but with a terrifying, focused rage. "Do you have a death wish?"

"Firearms?" Blade smiled coldly when he saw this, and looked at Yvonne with a sneer. "There's something you probably didn't know, girl. All of my followers here are martial arts elites, and they're wearing the silk armor that Grand City produced. This armor makes them untouchable by blades or the elements. If you don't do anything rash, it's fine. But if you do, your men will die. Here's my advice. Don't get all of them killed just because of one person."

Even for a dragon. “Blaze…?” Persia called out. “Just skip him. I heard his name from Kuroyuki.” I said. The person sitting next to Blaze is the guy with the brown hair and glasses. Every time he nudges his glasses, there’s always a glint. “Name: Kronos Y Chronocock. Human. Ranked Seven. Codename: .” Am I actually imagining symbols from his words…? How scary. “Arsenal…? This means you had a lot of weapons in your hand…?”