01:26 – Industrial District 14, Orika City
"Let's dance."
Toma popped out from behind the forklift, twin Revenant pistols raised.
The first shot cracked through the nearest thug's collarbone, spinning him into the metal crate behind him.
Another ducked, swinging a crowbar wildly.
Bang! Bang!
Two rounds. Two clean hits. One through the thigh. One dead center between the eyes.
The system's voice purred in his head like a financial analyst high on blood.
[+¥220,000 credited. Shot precision bonus: ¥15,000. Melee suppress bonus: ¥8,000.]
Toma ducked as gunfire erupted from the warehouse entrance.
Sparks danced off the forklift.
He dropped and rolled into a crouch, returned fire in two controlled bursts. One bullet slammed into a shooter's gut. The second clipped the shoulder of a man charging with a machete.
"You assholes don't even know who you're shooting at!" Toma shouted as he scrambled sideways, kicking over an oil drum for cover.
Another volley answered.
[Correction, They do not care. Their kill order likely applies to all trespassers. However, your bounty will soon make you an exception.]
"Wait, bounty?" he grunted, flanking left past a row of steel drums.
[Shiromura protocol. You've made noise. You'll be worth something within the hour.]
Toma inhaled and broke into a sprint.
He vaulted over a half-disassembled motorcycle, hitting the ground in a roll. More bullets whistled past. He came up behind a guard with a shotgun fumbling to reload.
Too slow.
BANG!
Close-range headshot. Blood misted the air like crimson vapor.
[+¥190,000 credited.]
"Stop saying that every time," Toma muttered, grabbing the shotgun with his off-hand and hurling it across the lot.
[But revenue tracking is essential to personal growth.]
"Eat glass." Toma ducked under scaffolding and popped into the side of the warehouse.
The interior was dim, cluttered with crates, scaffolding, and forklifts. Shadows and death.
Footsteps. Voices.
"Shit! Did you see that?! He took out Sadao!"
"How the fuck's he moving like that?"
"Doesn't matter! Fan out! Take the high ground!"
From the shadows behind a tower of crates, Toma whispered into his sleeve, "How many left?"
[Seven. Four ranged. Three melee. Caution: two marked as augmented. Heavily drugged.]
"Great. Junkies." Toma crept between containers, eyes tracking the movement above, one on a catwalk with a submachine gun.
Toma slid behind a beam, lifted Revenant Beta, and waited for the swing of the guard's patrol.
Timing…
BANG!
One shot to the temple. Body dropped like a sack of bricks.
The gunfire erupted instantly.
"He's inside! He's inside!"
Toma rolled, snapped off two more shotsc one struck a shoulder, the other missed and punched a hole through a water tank.
[-¥150 deducted.]
"Seriously?!" he shouted.
[Only hits pay, Toma. Shoot smarter.]
Footsteps thundered behind him.
He spun, caught sight of one of the enhanced thugs. Face pale, eyes bloodshot, veins pulsing with some kind of synth-stimulant.
"You're dead, fucker!" the man screamed, swinging a nail bat.
Toma ducked, slid under the swing, and emptied two rounds into the man's side. Nothing. "Armor?"
The man growled and kicked Toma in the chest, sending him crashing into a steel drum. Pain flared across his ribs.
"Crap, System, any advice?!"
[Recommended: Full auto suppression. Aim for base of neck. Weak spot between the vest seams.]
Toma coughed, popped back up, and fired three more rounds, this time hitting the sweet spot.
Thunk. Crack. Pop.
The junkie dropped, twitching.
[+¥280,000 credited. Augmented threat bonus: ¥60,000.]
Toma leaned against the crate, panting. "This is nuts for just a delivery boy!"
[Incorrect. You are an armed fiscal weapon with a positive trajectory.]
Footsteps again.
Another two guards burst around the corner, both armed.
Toma flipped backwards, narrowly dodging the spray of bullets. He landed in a crouch and fired at the nearest man's kneecaps.
Screams echoed. The second tried to rush him.
"Bad move." Toma twisted, jammed the barrel of Revenant Alpha under the man's jaw, and pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The skull exploded upward.
[+¥230,000 credited.]
The warehouse grew still for a moment. Then-
"Hey! You out there, who the hell are you?!" someone shouted from above.
Toma turned.
On the upper catwalk, a man in a suit stood. Clean, expensive. Platinum tie clip. Rings on both hands. His expression was calm, like a CEO who'd just seen a quarterly dip.
He had to be someone important.
Toma raised his pistol. "Name?"
The man didn't flinch. "I'm Keiji Shiromura. Acting lieutenant. I don't know who sent you, but you just declared war on my family."
Toma's jaw tightened. "Cool. Here's my declaration of bankruptcy."
He fired.
BANG!
Keiji dove behind cover, screaming, "KILL HIM! KILL HIM NOW!"
The building erupted.