Killgrave lay beneath me, gasping for air, his purple suit now stained with his own blood.
I turned toward the woman curled up in the corner.
It was Jessica Jones—I knew it by her resemblance to Krysten Ritter.
Her body trembled with uncontrollable spasms. Her messy brown hair fell over her face, but I could see her eyes, locked on Killgrave's broken body. Her pupils were dilated, and a thin layer of cold sweat covered her forehead.
She wasn't afraid of me; she was afraid of him.
"It's over," I said. "He won't hurt you anymore."
She didn't look at me. She kept staring at Killgrave, as if she expected him to get back up.
"He…" she whispered. "He made me do bad things. He made me… do things I didn't want to do."
Mind control. I knew who Killgrave was—and what he had done to the girl in front of me.
I stepped back, giving her some space to breathe. My eyes fell on a metal desk in the corner of the room.
It was a mess, covered in papers and liquor bottles. I walked over and opened the top drawer.
Bingo. This was the hideout of a rich criminal.
Stacks of cash were piled up neatly, and next to them were two gleaming gold bars.
I quickly stored the heavy bars and half the money into my inventory.
I closed the drawer and grabbed the remaining bundle of cash. Then I knelt down a safe distance from the woman.
"This is yours," I said, holding out the money. "You'll need it later, I guess."
She finally tore her eyes away from Killgrave and looked at me. For the first time, I saw her exhausted face—empty eyes, the kind that came from being under someone else's control for who knows how long.
"I don't want his money," she said, her voice trembling less now.
"Take it. You'll need it," I insisted.
I stood up and searched Killgrave's torn suit pockets. I found what I was looking for—his phone.
"Use this," I told her, handing it over. "Call the police. Tell them what you can. I'm leaving."
She took the phone and the money. Our hands brushed briefly, but she recoiled, shaking even harder.
It seemed Killgrave had done far worse to her than just keeping her as a personal guard.
I sighed and turned to leave the warehouse.
"Wait," she said as I reached the door. "Who are you?"
I stopped at the threshold, back turned to her. I looked over my shoulder.
"I'm Vorn."
Without waiting for an answer, I limped out of the warehouse, coughing. The shotgun blast had definitely left one hell of a bruise.
I made it home through my bedroom window, feeling like I was made of glass. The pain was unbearable.
My left arm was swollen, and my chest throbbed beneath my shirt. I took off the Kevlar vest and the suit, letting them fall to the floor.
I collapsed onto my bed. The mattress felt like an oasis, but the pain wouldn't let me rest.
I opened the system menu.
The mental screen glowed in the darkness of my room, and my eyes almost shut.
[MISSION COMPLETE: FIRST GROUP ENCOUNTER!]
[THUGS NEUTRALIZED: 35][THUG REWARD = 3,500 EXP]
[BOSS DEFEATED: KILLGRAVE][BOSS REWARD = 200 EXP]
[TOTAL EXP AND POINTS GAINED: 3,700]
A smile spread across my face. 3,700 in both experience and points—a fortune. Enough to buy several items for improvement.
I felt warmth in my chest as my body began to glow slightly. I felt lighter, and the pain vanished.
I looked at my arm—no more bullet wound. My chest was free of the massive bruise.
[CONGRATULATIONS, HOST! YOU HAVE REACHED 50% TEMPLATE COMPLETION! (EVERY TIME THE HOST REACHES HALF OR COMPLETES A TEMPLATE, AN AUTOMATIC RECOVERY IS GRANTED AS A REWARD)]
"System, show me my current percentage," I said. I knew I had passed the halfway point.
[OF COURSE! TEMPLATE LEVEL: 57%]
I smiled. It was a huge leap toward my goal. I closed my eyes and sank into a deep sleep.
A shrill sound woke me up. It wasn't the alarm—it was my mother knocking on the door.
"Damon! It's ten o'clock already! You're way too late for school!"
I sat up straight. Ten in the morning. I'd overslept—well past the start time.
The healing system had done its job: my arm wasn't bleeding anymore, and all the bruises were gone.
I dragged myself out of bed. No point in going to high school today.
I'd have to come up with a believable excuse. I got dressed and went to the kitchen, where my mom was frowning as she cooked breakfast.
"Are you feeling okay? Did you have a rough night?"
"Something like that, Mom," I lied. "I had a horrible nightmare and overslept."
She sighed. "Alright, honey. But don't let it happen again. Stay home today and rest."
While I ate silently, she turned on the small kitchen TV to catch the local news before leaving for work.
"…in a shocking and violent turn of events, NYPD has found dozens of criminals immobilized, tied up, and suffering non-lethal leg injuries inside an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district. The operation has led to the dismantling of a major arms trafficking ring and exposed its leader, who has been identified as a man with a criminal record, now in critical condition under police custody."
The screen showed footage of police surrounding the warehouse and a stretcher being loaded into an ambulance—carrying a body under a white sheet.
"Authorities also found a woman showing signs of both physical and psychological abuse. For now, police have no leads on who carried out the attack, though they suspect a rival gang may be involved."
I leaned back in my chair, watching the report. Killgrave's gang had been dismantled.
I glanced at the clock—10 a.m. I had the whole day to plan my next move.
Looking at my mom washing her plate, I whispered, "Status."
[Stats:]
Strength: 32Agility: 36Endurance: 30Intelligence: 28Charisma: 34Luck: 22
[Skills:– Musical Talent of Bruno Mars]
[Gacha: 0 pulls available]
[Templates: Bruce Lee (57%)]
[Inventory]
[Shop: 4580 points available]
I felt a kiss on my cheek and turned to my mom.
"I'm off, honey. Lunch is ready—just heat it up."
"Alright, take care! Love you!" I said as she left.
"Love you too. And behave while you're home."
I heard the door close and turned back to the system. "Show me some combat suits. It's time to change outfits—the last one's in pieces."