He rolled out of bed, his muscles sore from his new routine. He put on his workout clothes and took the elevator down to the building's small, public gym. The place was empty, save for one other man on a treadmill.
Arthur went through his regimen: running on treadmill, squats, lunges, and push-ups. He pushed himself until his body trembled. He hit his final push-up and collapsed to the floor, his arms giving out.
[Endurance Gained: +0.2]
He pushed himself to his feet. As he grabbed a water bottle, the man on the treadmill slowed to a stop and stepped off.
"You're at it every morning," the man said, his voice calm. "You're the first one here."
Arthur offered a polite, professional smile. "Dedication is a virtue, isn't it?"
"I'd say so. Haven't seen that kind of discipline around here in a while."
Arthur took a long drink. "It's a new habit. And a necessary one, I'd argue."
The man chuckled. "Whatever works for you, I guess. I've been doing this for years, and I still can't push myself like that. So, what's the end goal?"
"The end goal?" Arthur's smile widened slightly. "Let's just say I'm preparing for the unexpected."
The man laughed, amused. "Well, that's a good goal for anyone, I suppose. Keep up the good work."
He walked toward the locker rooms. Arthur stood alone in the quiet gym.
God.. it feels like I might die ,why am I so weak?
He showered and returned to his apartment. He took the elevator up, the doors opening on his floor, where his neighbor, a middle-aged man with a dog, was waiting.
"Morning," the man said, as Arthur stepped into the hall. "Early for a Saturday, isn't it?"
Arthur offered a polite, professional smile.
The man nodded, then glanced at Arthur's suit. "Heading to the office? On a Saturday? You must be in a pretty serious line of work."
Arthur shrugged. "No, just taking care of some chores."
The man's dog barked and tugged at its leash. "Well, good luck with that. Some of us just get to enjoy the weekend."
Arthur's smile remained. "Enjoy it for me too, will you?"
He walked down the hall and entered the elevator. His mind was already shifting.
_____________________________________
The office is silent. A man sits across the desk, a senior partner in a rival firm. His name is Robert. Robert is in a tailored suit, but his face is tight with frustration. He is used to winning, and it doesn't look like it is the same today ]
"We're getting nowhere, Arthur," Robert said, his voice a low, condescending rumble. "The offer is on the table. Your client takes the settlement, and we all walk away."
Arthur leans back in his chair, a small, professional smile on his face. He says nothing. The silence stretches between them.
Robert's jaw clenches. "The evidence is on our side. Our client, Aegis Solutions, conducted all due diligence on their fire suppression system. It's a tragedy what happened, but it was an unavoidable accident. The contract absolves Aegis of all liability."
Arthur's smile widens. He folds his hands on the desk. "Unavoidable?" he says, his voice low and calm. "Robert. You know as well as I do that negligence isn't an accident. It's a crime."
Robert scoffs. "You're talking about morals, Arthur. I'm talking about the law. You still have a lot to learn kid."
Arthur's eyes narrow slightly. He looks at his laptop.
A new notification appears.
[Legal Precedent: The 'Triton Robotics' case. A 2007 case in which a company was held liable for a defective software system, even though the contract absolved them of liability. The court ruled that the company had a duty to warn its clients of a known, and concealed, defect.]
Arthur takes a long, slow breath. "You're right about one thing," he says, his voice a low, confident whisper. "We are talking about the Law. But you've made one tiny mistake."
Robert leans forward. "And what mistake is that?"
"You didn't check the date," Arthur says, his smile returning. "The Aegis system had a critical software bug that was discovered in late 2007, during the development of the 'Triton Robotics' system. You've got a contract that absolves your client, but it doesn't absolve them of a duty to warn. You knew about this bug, and you didn't warn your client. That's not an accident. That's a crime."
Robert's face goes pale. He stares at Arthur, his mouth open. His previous arrogance is gone, replaced by a cold, silent shock. He had assumed that a corporate attorney would not go to such lengths for a pro bono case. He was wrong.
"Your little scraps of a settlement is off the table, Robert," Arthur says, his voice a low, cold whisper. "The new offer is that you settle this on my terms, and you give my client everything he asks for. And you apologize. You just went up against a lawyer who knows the law, not just a lawyer who knows how to talk."
Robert said nothing. He just nods. He stands up, his face a mask of defeat and rage, and walks out of the office.
You just went up against a lawyer who knows the law.....What are you Harvey Spectre?, so cringe..!!!,
Arthur rubs his face
He walks out of the office, a folder in his hand. He heads toward the break room for a coffee.
"Arthur!"
He turns. It's Pepper Potts, walking toward him with a briefcase in her hand.
"How's that little passion project of yours going?" she asks, a small, knowing smile on her lips. "I heard Robert was here."
Arthur shrugs, a practiced nonchalance in his movements. "Waste of time, Ms Potts. It was a pro bono case. You know how those go."
Pepper's smile widens. She looks at his face, at the subtle, confident curve of his lips. "If It's a waste of time, yet you're smiling," she says, her voice a low, pointed whisper. "What's wrong with this picture?"
Arthur just shakes his head, a small, quiet laugh. "Nothing's wrong with this picture, Ms Potts. It's a beautiful day. I'm just enjoying it."
"Uh huh Right..." she says, her eyes lingering on his face for a moment longer with a deadpan "A beautiful day."
She walks away, the subtle subtext of the conversation hanging in the air. Arthur is left alone in the break room, a small, professional smile on his lips.
He takes the subway downtown. He watches the faces around him, his mind cataloging their expressions. A weary businessman reading a newspaper, a young student listening to music, a mother trying to quiet her child.
"Good old New York," he muttered to himself.
He got off the train in Hell's Kitchen. As he stepped onto the street, he took a breath. The air, thick with the smell of old exhaust, felt different here. The buildings were brick and brownstone, their fire escapes creating a web against the sky.
The sidewalks were cracked, and the shadows were long, even in the midday sun. It was a place with a history of its own, a city within a city.
He navigated the crowded sidewalks, his suit a quiet contrast to the worn faces around him. His phone buzzed, a blinking red dot appearing on the map.
He turned down a quiet side street, heading for a forgotten brownstone with boarded-up windows and a faded "For Rent" sign.
He walked to the side of the building and found a small, unmarked door. The lock was old, a simple brass padlock. He focused his gaze on the lock, his jaw tightening just slightly.
[Access Protocol: Active]
A small panel on the door slid open. Arthur's eyes go wide.
"A biometric scanner."
He lets out a low, disbelieving laugh, a hint of genuine amusement in his eyes.
"For a place that looks condemned. No way...!!"
He places his thumb on the scanner. A green light flashes. A faint click sounds from inside. The door swings inward on silent hinges. He steps inside. The air is cool and smells of concrete and rust.
Ding.!!
[Safe House 1: Hell's Kitchen. Status: Active. Configuration: 2-bedroom apartment with full utilities. Location is 100% secure.]
"A full apartment? I was expecting a single room," he says, a long, low whistle escaping his lips. "Sweet....!!!."
He walks into the kitchen. A new notification appears.
[Kitchen: Emergency Provisions. The refrigerator is fully stocked with fresh food and drinks. The stove has a gas tank. Two large crates with food supplies are stacked neatly in the corner.]
"Six months of supplies," he mutters, running his hand over a crate. "That's... a lot."
He walks into the bedroom.
[Bedroom:A bed is perfectly made. The cupboard contains three sets of clothes, two casual and one formal, all designed for durability and ease of movement.]
"What more now ; will there be a bath tub next.."he quiped
[No]
"Let a man dream will you" Arthur said whining.
[Basic Survival Kit: A small, black tactical bag on the floor contains a multi-tool, a fire starter, and a small, high-powered flashlight.]
"Nice," he says, a small, satisfied nod.
He walks back to the living room and finds a small door. He opens it. The smell of antiseptic fills the air. He sees a small medical area.
[Medical Area: Fully Stocked. A medical bed and a cabinet of supplies suitable for treating serious injuries. Contents include a first-aid kit, medication, and surgical supplies.]
"A medical bay," he says, a small, impressed nod. "Looks like I'm covered. Just need to kidnap a doctor now"
He finds a dedicated communications area. A desk with a top-of-the-line laptop sits there, its screen black.
[Communications Area: Ready for use. Laptop: 100% encrypted, with specs suitable for high-end hacking and security.
Security Cameras: 360-degree view of the building and surrounding streets. Lockdown Protocol: Voice-activated for instant building-wide sealing in emergencies.]
"Why does it feeling more and more like a zombie shelter," he mutters,a chill runs down his spine, a low tremble escaping his lips. "System , this is not a Marvel's Zombie universe right?."
[Scanning..!! Host's mind for any external influence. Scan Complete;
Conclusion: Host is genetically Stupid]
"Hey!! That was a valid question system" he let's out a aggrieved shout.
He walks to end of the hall to the wall that screams I have a hidden panel. He touches it, and it slides open, revealing a training area. He looks at the locked weapons cabinet. He kneels and runs his hand over the cold metal. He finds no keyhole, just a biometric scanner. He places his thumb on it. The lock clicks open with a soft sound.
[Combat Manual: A suitable environment has been found to begin training. Command: Absorb.]
Arthur pauses a bit brows furrowed.
"The manual," he says, his voice a low whisper. "Right."
He pulls the black booklet from his inventory. He holds it in his hand, a look of quiet contemplation on his face. He flips through the pages. They are blank.]
"Is this a joke?" he says to himself, confused.
He holds the booklet in his hand and focuses on the command. He feels a jolt of cold energy wash over him. The booklet dissolves.
He opens his eyes wide, a sudden headache feeling like a hammer going on his skull, a slew of new notifications appearing in his mind.
[Skill: Hand-to-Hand Combat (Beginner) unlocked.]
[Skill: Weapons Combat (Beginner) unlocked.]
[Skill: Evasion (Beginner) unlocked.]
[Skill: Marksmanship (Beginner) unlocked.]
"A little warning would have been nice" he grumbles, rubbing his head.
His eyes fall on the cabinet on the right end of the area. His eyes scan the array of weapons and gear.
"Hello baby... come to Papa!!" he let's out a very sleazy sound.
[Threat Assessment: Scanning for Perverts]
"Shut up...System !!"
He picks up a handgun. He weighs it in his hand, his eyes focused and calm. He points it at a small, circular target on a crate. He lines up the shot, his breath controlled, his arm steady. He pulls the trigger. The target registers a hit with a red light.
"It works..!!!, I am no longer a Noob" he laughs excitedly.
He moves to a training dummy in the corner. He throws a quick, practiced punch. His movements are fluid, precise.
He shadow boxes and tries out a few combat maneuvers.
"Looks like this is going to be my new hobby."
Ding.!!!
[Training Room: Ready for use.]
[This space is a system-generated pocket dimension. All equipment and ammunition are for training purposes only and cannot be taken into the real world.This facility is limited to Hell's Kitchen Safe House Only]
He looks at the notification, then looking around he spots a Translucent field at the wall where the training room is located. He touches the wall, and it ripples like water. He steps through. The scent of ozone and clean air replaces the smell of concrete. The space is vast, a limitless white grid stretching in every direction. There are no walls.
Then there is a vast cabinet with an array of weapons , knives,swords, a whole rack full of guns big and small, different types of tactical gears and grenades as well. He walks over to a rack of handguns. He picks one up and points it at a target. The clip is full. He fires it. The target lights up, a hit. He fires again. The clip is still full. He fires again. The clip is still full.]
"Unlimited ammo," he says, a short, hollow laugh. "Yeah!! That's what I am talking about man "and starts firing wildly.
After playing around and having at the fully stocked kitchen He walks out of the safe house and into the late afternoon sun. He closes the door and locks it.
"System, are the other safe houses the same as this?"
[Affirmative. All the safe houses are the same, except for the Training Room. It is exclusive to Hell's Kitchen Safe House]
As he walks down the street, he hears raised voices from a nearby alleyway. Two men in dirty jackets are blocking the entrance to a small convenience store, shouting at the owner.
"You know the drill, old man," one of the men says, his voice a gravelly growl. "Today's take is a little light."
"Please," the owner says, his hands held up in a placating gesture. "I told you, business is slow."
Arthur stops. His jaw tightens. He looks at the system prompt in his mind.
[Threat Analysis: Two subjects. Low-level threat. Unarmed. Subject 1: High aggression. Subject 2: Low intelligence.]
[Affiliation: Known associates of 'The Butcher's' crew. Note: The Butcher's crew is a mid-level organized crime syndicate operating in Hell's Kitchen.]
He walks slowly toward them, his hands in his pockets, his posture calm and confident. He stops a few feet away from them.
"Everything alright here?" Arthur asks, his voice polite, a small smile on his face. "Looks like you're having a bad day."
The men turn. The first man glares at him. "Stay out of this, suit. This is a family matter."
Arthur's smile widens, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "A family matter? You know, that's what I thought. My apologies. I just thought it was a legal matter."
The second man, the one with the low intelligence, starts to laugh. "A legal matter? What the hell are you barking? You know what this is"showing him a gun.
Arthur's eyes narrow. He looks at the first man, his gaze steady and calm. "I know enough to know that a man like you doesn't work for free. You have a boss. And I have a feeling that The Butcher isn't going to be happy when he finds out you've been working on his turf without his permission."
The first man's face goes pale. He stares at Arthur, his mouth open. His bravado is gone, replaced by a cold, silent shock. The name was enough.
"So," Arthur says, his voice a low, cold whisper. "You can either walk away now, or I can start making some phone calls."
The two men look at each other. They then look at the old man, who is looking at Arthur. They don't know what to do.
They then turn and walk away.
Arthur smiles and walks away. He doesn't look back.