I pulled out a plain, expressionless white mask I'd tucked into my waist — bought earlier from a shop near the ramen place, right after Reina called.
Mask on. Hood up.
Yep… I looked even more suspicious than those bikers.
I crept toward the compound's entrance. There was now some light coming out of the entrance. Not too much, but enough for someone to walk without tripping. But the rest of the street was still pretty much dark.
Suddenly, one of the bikers stepped out. I ducked sideways behind a nearby utility pole. It was far from a perfect cover, but with the dark streets, it was still better than anything.
He wore a black sleeveless jacket over a faded grey T-shirt, heavy denim jeans, thick-soled boots, and fingerless gloves. A snake tattoo coiled down the length of his left arm.
He was likely on lookout duty, standing near the compound's entrance, leaning against the wall, and casually scanning the street.
He lit a cigarette and smoked lazily, only occasionally glancing left and right. Yeah — low-level grunt stuck with the boring jobs.
There were three utility poles between us. I stood there, looking for an opportunity to move.
Finally, as he looked to the other side, I started moving quickly but quietly. I probably looked like a serial killer as I walked towards him with a knife in my hand.
I once again took cover and hid sideways behind the next utility pole. He still hadn't looked here, but there was no need to take any risk.
A few moments later, he looked in my direction. I held my breath while peeking at him from the corner of my eye. There was no weapon in his hands, so as long as I caught him off-guard, the rest would be a piece of cake.
He turned his gaze and started looking in front, looking deep in thought. I could try dashing to the next pole, but I stayed put.
Haste makes waste.
After a few minutes, his gaze drifted to the opposite side again. I immediately seized the opportunity and moved forward.
As I was moving, his body seemed to tense suddenly. I immediately increased my speed and hid behind the last utility pole.
The biker immediately turned in my direction. This time, he noticed something. After all, the pole wasn't thick enough to hide my body despite standing sideways, but due to the very dim lighting, he couldn't make out what he was seeing clearly.
He cautiously looked towards the pole. At the same time, I moved very slowly in the opposite direction while still staying behind the pole to cover my body.
In low-light conditions like these, rod cells in the eyes are more sensitive to motion than to stationary shapes. If I barely moved… I could disappear.
I just had to take advantage of that and move as little as possible.
I sneakily pulled out a small pebble from my pocket, which I had picked earlier, and flicked it towards the biker. The stone traveled a distance and hit the wall on the other side near him.
"Who's there?" The biker panicked as he looked in the direction the pebble had hit.
I immediately backed off more and hid behind a dumpster between the first and second poles.
"Any problems?" came a faint voice from inside the compound.
"Meow"
Perfect timing, cat. My pebble probably woke it up.
"Nothing… probably a cat," the biker muttered.
I peeked from behind the dumpster. He was still staring toward where the pebble struck, confused — but after a moment, his wary eyes drifted back toward the pole I'd initially used for cover.
He pulled out a switchblade and began walking toward the pole in slow, measured steps.
His pace grew uncertain, and his breathing rough as he neared it. Stopping just a few feet away, he stared at it in confusion — since I wasn't behind it anymore, he couldn't see my shadow anymore.
He made a firm expression, and with quick steps, he came behind the pole. He found no one.
His head swivelled back and forth, panic beginning to rise. I quickly ducked behind the dumpster again so he wouldn't spot me.
Even without seeing him, I could track him by the sound of his boots on the pavement.
He paced anxiously in small circles.
"I swear I saw someone…" he muttered — then the footsteps grew quieter. I peeked out: he was heading back toward his lookout position.
I came out of hiding behind the dumpster. I walked behind him with a quicker pace, but still slow enough not to make a sound.
The moment I was directly behind him, he must've sensed something… but I was faster.
One hand clamped over his mouth, and the other slit his throat in a quick, clean motion.
Wet gurgles escaped as he thrashed, so I squeezed tighter to silence him.
Not wanting his boots to scrape noisily against the asphalt, I wrapped my free arm around his waist and hoisted him up. My muscles protested, but I held him until the twitching stopped.
We were still some distance from the entrance, so his buddies didn't notice. I hauled his body and dumped it inside the dumpster I was hiding behind.
I gave him one last look. He definitely hadn't watched any horror movies.
Then, I tiptoed back to the compound entrance once again. I looked inside, and another biker was carrying a heavy box towards a can with its back doors open.
Inside the van, another guy was sitting in the driver's seat, completely absorbed in his phone.
"Man, why the hell am I the only one haulin' these?" the biker moving the box grunted. "Uh… Mike, you think you could maybe give me a hand with these?"
"Don't disturb me, Caleb. I am busy," Mike, the biker sitting in the van, said, while continuously swiping on his phone.
"Yeah, busy swiping on reels on social media," Caleb said in a low voice.
"You said something, punk?" Mike asked in a low, threatening voice, but his attention was still on his phone.
"Nothing," Caleb said hurriedly.
Caleb finally put the box in the van. His face was already covered in sweat.
"Shouldn't Danny be helpin' out too? He must be just smoking while daydreaming outside," Caleb said.
"Then who will be the lookout? Your mother?" Mike scoffed.
"What's there to watch? We know that bitch Reina just sent a newbie to collect the goods. If he shows, we smoke him. Easy," Caleb said.
"Yeah, let's not have a lookout. Then, that newbie puts a bullet in your dumb ass 'cause nobody's on lookout," Mike snorted.
Caleb cursed Mike under his breath and looked back inside the compound. I followed his line of sight. There were still many boxes remaining to be loaded.
Both he and I sighed at the same time. I suddenly felt his pain because I would also have to haul all these boxes by myself inside my van.
"Where's Steve? Wasn't he supposed to be part of this job?" Caleb asked.
"Took a detour to see his girl," Mike said. "He'll show up."
Caleb swore under his breath. "Why's he allowed to fool around on the job? There's too damn many boxes."
Mike finally removed his gaze from his phone, eyes narrowing. "Listen, punk. You whine one more time, and I'll show you how the Iron Serpents handle dead weight. Got it?"
"Y-yeah, I got it," Caleb muttered, defeated.
Mike smirked and went right back to his phone. Caleb shot him a bitter glare, then trudged back toward the pile with dejected steps.
I almost pitied him. Almost.
Just as I was about to take them out, a thought struck me. Instead of rushing in, I stayed hidden a bit longer and observed.
Caleb slowly but steadily moved the boxes inside the van. Soon, he loaded all but one box and was on his way to it.
Time to move.
I slipped silently behind him. Since we were behind the van and Mike was busy on his phone in the driver's seat, I wasn't much worried about being spotted.
I arrived behind Caleb and repeated the same action. One hand clamped his mouth, and the other cut his throat. After a struggle for a few seconds, he was gone.
I didn't bother hiding his body and let it slump gently to the ground.
I returned to the van and climbed in from the back. I moved towards the driver's seat, crouched. It was my luck that there was no partition between the cargo area and the driver's seat.
He was the easiest. His head was down, looking at his phone screen. I stabbed my knife into the side of his neck and didn't even bother covering his mouth — nobody was left to hear him anyway.
I stretched my arms lazily—time for clean-up.
First, I looted the bodies: a few hundred dollars and a handgun from Mike. Then I fetched my van and parked it right beside theirs inside the compound.
I moved the last box and put it in my van. For the remaining boxes, I unloaded them from the other van and loaded them into mine.
I moved them as quickly as possible because there was still a chance that their buddy Steve might come at any time.
Finally, I loaded all twenty boxes and closed the van doors.
Thanks, Caleb — you did most of the work for me.
I hopped behind the wheel and drove out of the compound.
Markers appeared on the road as the destination was marked on my map. I drove following them.
The distance was quite considerable, so it would take around two hours to reach the drop-off point.
I thought the rest of the journey would be smooth, but I thought too soon.
Barely five minutes after hitting the road, I saw two bikers coming in front of me with the matching decal as the earlier ones.
What the fuck? Steve wasn't supposed to have friends.
I hadn't removed the mask and had deliberately switched off the lights inside the van.
I kept on driving without panicking. In the rear-view mirror, I saw them stopping and looking back at the van. They exchanged glances and then left.
I took that as a cue and hit the accelerator. I had to make as much distance between them as possible. It wouldn't take them long to discover their dead buddies and missing cargo. After that, they would embark on a deadly pursuit.
For ten minutes, no one followed, but then I saw faint silhouettes of bikes in my rear-view mirror.
Now, there was no other choice but to deal with them. But how?
I had to take the possibility that they might have guns and could shoot at the van. The bullets could damage the cargo, blow the tires, and worst of all, hit me.
I had a gun too, but to me, it was just an iron stick.
Note to self: If I survive, I should add firearms training to my ever-growing schedule.
I couldn't just drive, hoping to lose them. That would only increase my chances of dying from a stray bullet.
Moreover, the longer I continued this farce, the higher the chances they might call for backup, assuming they hadn't until now.
Realistically speaking, they shouldn't have called the backup for now, and they must be trying to recover the cargo on their own. Because if they did, then it would be their asses on the line for botching the job.
So, this was my best shot to eliminate them right now. Before the entire gang came crashing down on me.
I suddenly smirked under my mask.
I eased off the accelerator, letting the speed bleed down without jamming the brakes. To anyone watching from behind, it looked like hesitation, maybe even weakness. But my eyes were locked on the road, measuring grip, weight, and the narrow window of control.
At the precise moment, I wrenched the wheel and yanked the handbrake. The rear wheels shrieked and locked, the van's bulk swinging wide, its body leaning so far it seemed ready to topple. Suspension screamed under the strain. A normal driver would have lost it right there.
But I wasn't a normal driver, no, I was an Expert with a capital E. My hands worked the wheel in sharp, practiced flicks, my foot feathering the throttle to balance the slide. For a breathless second, the van spun, tires screaming, the whole machine pivoting cleanly on its front end.
Time seemed to slow down as the world took a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn. The rear wheels fiercely rubbed against the asphalt, leaving burn marks.
The bikers were now closer. Their eyes widened at what they saw, disbelief coloring their faces.
I had a wild smile on my face. Too bad for the bikers; they couldn't see it, or they might have turned tail already. But they didn't, and that sealed their fates.
Then the turn stopped. The rear tires bit into the tarmac, the handbrake snapped back down, and the wheel straightened in a blur of movement. The van was already facing the other way, already surging forward.
The bikers never had time to react. One heartbeat, they were chasing prey; the next, a wall of steel was charging straight at them. Engines roared, curses flew, and then the van plowed into the line, the weight and speed turning it into a battering ram.
The crash was catastrophic… for them. The van struck them almost simultaneously. The bikes ricocheted. The bikers were sent flying over the van like ragdolls.
Of course, I didn't come out of this exchange scot-free. The grill was smashed, the hood crumpled, and one of the headlights was crushed. I pushed the brake as the airbag was deployed inside.
I was wearing the seatbelt, so I wasn't thrown forward due to the collision.
I started the van again and turned back to the original direction of my destination.
The scene in front looked like a tragedy. Both bikes were obliterated. The bikers were lying motionless in pools of their blood.
No way they survived that.
I started my journey back to the drop-off, which was uneventful.
Two hours later, I was in front of the garage where I had to park the van.
I put the gun back in the dashboard compartment and locked it, and then I stepped down from the van.
Coming behind, I opened the back doors and took a few photos of the cargo in the van in front of the drop-off location.
"Job's done." I messaged along with the pictures.
I didn't receive a reply, which is not surprising, given that I wasn't expecting one this late.
I opened the garage and drove the car parked inside it out. Then, I went back in the van and drove it inside the garage. I left the keys inside and left the garage, closing its door behind me.
I then boarded the car, which would be my ride back, and started driving to the ramen shop.
Half an hour later, I actually received a reply from Reina.
"Shipment verified. Collect your payment on your next visit."
And with that, I also got the notification.
Mission: Cigar Smuggling (Completed)
Reward: $1000, More missions from Reina
There were no hidden objectives this time.
Were there no hidden objectives in this mission? Or did I not complete it, so it was not showing?
Oh well, no use thinking about something outside my control.
I arrived at the ramen shop around 5 AM. The sun was already peeking from the horizon.
I parked the car in the same spot as the van and left the keys inside, just like before.
After messaging Reina about the car, I went inside without waiting for a reply. Reina wouldn't probably give one either and would just send someone to drive it back.
The old man was already up. I nodded to him in greeting and went to sleep. I had only two hours to sleep before I had to go back.
My sweet sleep was interrupted, this time not by the old man but by the alarm I set.
With reluctance, I woke up, took a quick shower, and ate another serving of ramen for breakfast. At least, even as an unpaid labourer, I could still get food at all three times.
I respectively said my goodbyes to the old man. He just nodded and went back to cooking.
"Bye, old man. I will come back next weekend," I smiled and left.
"Do not forget the training regimen I gave you to do every morning. Today was an exception, don't make it a habit." That was old man Kobayashi's goodbye.
I laughed a little and left.
…
Finally, I was back at my home. With my vitality, I wasn't feeling sleepy, but was still somewhat tired. Despite that, I picked up my bag, entered my taxi, and left for the university.
Just five minutes on the road, I got a call. I pulled out my civilian phone, but it wasn't the one ringing.
Strange.
I pulled the crime phone. It was the one ringing. The number was unknown.
Who could it be?
After hesitating for a moment, I picked up the call.
"Hello?"