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Someone said that the day has eyes, while the night has ears. Sure enough, their eyes watched from behind the shrub flora, while the trees were camouflage walls guaranteeing hiding. Meanwhile, some people's ears cling to electronic black block called handy talku, as a communication bridge through radio signals. A clear and silent night is a field of strategy against reason. The rest depend on smooth running, between people who is leading the way this time?
The grounds around the villa have now been installed with a simplified version of the rice field dolls. The frame uses wood, while the head uses lumps of paper or oil containers. They were tied together by a grid wire, separated by about three adult feet on the front porch. While on the outside, the six canvases are almost abstract but look scary. The graffiti is painted to look like a head with black dyed hair, with an absurd face of red paint. Meanwhile in the villa itself the lights are completely turned off. Making Cake's strategy the empty fort turned into a haunted villa.
“About… eight people entered the grounds. They… they were using firearms… it looked like the automatic kind…. We are… in a position of readiness. How… about over there?” asked Agnes, intending to confirm the circumstances and conditions.
Cake has split into two teams, the decoy team and the core execution team. Grunt, Aunt Mildsven and Agnes are on the decoy team. Aunt Mildsven and Grunt, those who set up the play of lights in the villa, create a poltergeist situation. While Agnes guarantees their safety, she also helps them both, a dynamic task. The rest, Lady De Polcester, Ren, Sistine and Cake are the core executing team. They carried out a guerrilla strategy, when in the end they decided to split up and search the forest area.
“Do as planned. Let them get confused at the barricades we made. Start only when they are about to set foot on the terrace. We are five hundred meters away monitoring the villa and confirming your escape path. And again… eight people with automatic rifles, huh? Hm… how unlucky we are,” Cake said into the handy talkie portophone, his tone sounding glum.
"What will we do?"
Cake thought for a moment. His ape brain only produced one solution. And the solution was very reluctant to choose.
“Where have you been, Mlle. Agnes?”
“Ground floor, near the entrance. Taking advantage of… peeking out of the window,”
Cake thought once again and taking a consideration carefully. Apparently there is no other choice. He took a deep breath.
"Can you take three people?"
“Hm… impossible… if everyone goes in. At least… a subgroup, three people is still possible…” Agnes said not too sure. Only this time the woman was a little hesitant.
“Leaving heavy injuries for sure….”
“Impossible without injuries…,” said Agnes ending the handy talkie portophone conversation.
Because the risk was too much, Cake instructed Agnes to retreat to the first floor when the intruders entered. By doing that, of course Agnes would lose the chance to guarantee an escape route. But there is a wider opportunity to silence them more safely through the stairs on the first floor, even if they let the ground floor be occupied.
Hearing the conversation, Ren and Sistine were horrified. Sistine recently brought a firearm, the Remington Versa max shotgun that was housed in the warehouse yesterday. They seemed as if they were carrying out military service, of course with a real battlefield.
But what surprised Ren even more, was how Cake and the maid could act like professionals in this kind of field. Moreover, the appearance of Cake using binoculars and a handy talkie is similar to a war general. It looked as if they were naturally melting into precarious conditions. Less panic and more calm in decisive situations.
“They're going around…,” whispered Agnes, texting through the portophone.
5 minutes…
10 minutes…
Up to 15 minutes…
No one know how long Ren's heart was beating fast, as if dancing to loud music. She started to have a bad feeling.
The lights in the villa's room are made to turn on and off whose glare is easy to spot even from a hiding place. It's easy, a beam of light briefly penetrates from inside to outside through the window, a stark contrast in the dark night. The sign of the first phase will end, while the second phase is on the verge of the eye. Cake was just waiting for the portophone handy talkie he was holding to say something.
"They are on the terrace ..., I'm in the position of the stairs, the ground floor is completely dead-"
#Breakk sshshhh~
The sound of the door opening discordantly, harshly, and crashing against the wall was recognized by the portophone. Ren's bad feeling was now embracing her waist, hugging her from behind, giving her goosebumps. so did Cake. Monkey Cake's brain is now positioned as a visionary. He imagined that the intruders were scattering through the ground floor, like a platoon of ants scattering over an area looking for scraps of food. The spotlight was still playing, turning off and on, making Cake's heart feel a little relieved.
10 minutes…
20 minutes…
Before finally the contents of Cake's head were hit by a terrible headache when the radio beam he was holding began to vibrate.
The handy talkie says, “They went in one package at a time. Four people going up, the rest is down. Looking for the source of the trigger for the lights to turn on, that man is dangerous," Agnes informed him.
Hearing that, the two women who heard from the handy talkie automatically translated that they meant Grunt. The plan went a little off the rails, should the guy named Grunt make it upstairs before Agnes. But for some reason, Cake, who at first looked like he had a headache, now smiled with satisfaction as if his plan had worked. Once again, Ren felt that bad premonition now covering her face.
10 minutes…
20 minutes…
Up to 30 minutes, as if Ren's heartbeat stopped for a split second...
#DetdetTAR!
Automatic bullets were launched, a type of sub machine gun, said Cake's monkey brain. Someone had pulled the trigger, letting it strafe for a split second.
“Grunts! Mr. Cake…,” Ren screamed worriedly, his best friend Sistine also felt twice as much from Ren. Cake glanced at them for a moment giving them a sign to think again and not do anything stupid, while Lady De Polcester gave a signal in the form of a finger covering her mouth “Ssssttt!”, so they wouldn't be loud. The only person who didn't waver, her mind just flowed calmly.
"Agnes, report the situation," Cake shouted on the handy talkie, a bit panicked. The normal situation according to plan was Agnes giving the news regularly like just now. But when reversed, then the situation becomes abnormal. It's that simple and…
That's tense.
Cake repeats every two minutes, waiting for a response. Now they were at their limit, especially Ren and Sistine's container of patience which had now spilled out little by little. They had done something stupid. Starting with Ren who was about to come out of hiding, intending to pair bodies in the name of friendship and friendship.
The goddess of fortune sided with one of the parties at least. Without the help of Lady De Polcester who locked her hands to restrain Ren from acting rashly, that's why Cake was very grateful.
"Our situation is safe. Two people who tried to go up already I paralyzed. Just… two more, and the guy is safe...” Agnes informed, which caused Ren and Sistine's minds to feel a lot better.
However, the message continues...
“One problem. Four people heading towards the back…”
Not long after that message, Cake strained his hearing. Spontaneously, he turned off the portophone. The rustling of the bushes sounded, giving a warning signal. Either it was a squirrel, or the movement of the intruders was getting closer.
“Everyone, bow down!” whispered Cake ordered, while turning to everyone in turn.
Sure enough…
As they hid, a flashlight cut through the darkness, shining on the trunk and bushes where Cake was hiding.
Ren and Sistine, whom eyes only aimed at the ground, seemed to have given up and kept saying a silent prayer.
Footsteps settle down, slowly, as if increasing the amount of anxiety in the heart. Ren felt the intruders, as close as her hair shaft.
"I don't want anything to do with bears, better look for them around the bushes!" called the male voice of one of the intruders.
"Ha ha ha! can't they ask the bears for help?” shouted back a female voice, her laugh grinning like a psychopath's.
“Of course not! Nature works fairly. If bears are our enemy, then that means their enemy!” chattered one man, which brought a laugh of horror to the rest of his comrades.
Now their positions are like billiards balls. They have been limited, not knowing when and from which direction the white ball will be poked.
About what color ball? What number?
ns 15.158.61.39da2
