The night was thick with fog, a strange silence resting over Sue City like a warning.
Jackim's villa glowed faintly at the edge of the hills, a beacon of calm in the dark. Inside, Kelvin was asleep on the couch again—TV still on, showing muted headlines about "The Rising Billionaire Student."
Jackim had gotten used to it. Fame was noise. He preferred silence.
He stood out on the balcony, leaning against the rail, a cup of coffee warming his palm. Below, the city shimmered with life—cars, neon lights, the distant hum of clubs. He could almost pretend everything was normal.
But tonight, something felt… off.
The wind wasn't moving right. Even the crickets had gone quiet.
He set his cup down slowly.
Then it came.
A faint click—like metal brushing metal—followed by the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel.
Jackim turned his head slightly. Nothing visible, just shadows shifting behind the fence.
He exhaled. "System… tell me I'm imagining this."
> [Warning: Host is being targeted by hostile forces.]
[Activate Temporary Skill: Shadow Reflex (Lv.1)?]
"Activate."
A surge of energy exploded through his body. His senses sharpened instantly. He could hear his own heartbeat, the whisper of movement fifty meters away, the metallic scent of blood in the air.
Then, they came.
Three masked men in black suits vaulted over the fence like ghosts, moving fast and silent.
Each carried a short blade glinting under the porch light.
Jackim didn't move. His expression stayed calm, but his body had already shifted into stance.
The first man rushed him—knife aimed for his ribs.
Jackim sidestepped effortlessly, grabbed the attacker's wrist, twisted, and the blade clattered to the floor. A kick to the gut sent the man flying backward into the glass door, shattering it.
The second came from the right—fast, trained.
Jackim ducked, felt the blade cut air above his ear, and countered with a jab to the throat. The man dropped, choking, eyes wide with disbelief.
The third tried to flank him, swinging low.
Jackim caught his arm mid-swing, drove his knee into the man's chest, and slammed him face-first into the balcony rail. A crack echoed. Silence returned.
He stood there for a moment, chest heaving slightly.
The Shadow Reflex skill faded, leaving a dull ache in his limbs.
> [Host successfully neutralized enemies.]
[Temporary skill deactivated. Duration expired.]
Kelvin stumbled into the room, eyes half-open, holding a frying pan. "Bro—what the hell—what happened?!"
Jackim looked at the unconscious men sprawled across the balcony, knives scattered, blood pooling slowly on the tiles.
> "Guests," he said simply. "Uninvited ones."
Kelvin blinked at the carnage. "These guys came to kill you?"
Jackim nodded. "Looks like it."
He crouched beside one of the attackers, pulling off the black mask. The man's face was plain, forgettable—like someone you'd pass in a crowd and never remember. But when Jackim checked his wrist, he froze.
A tattoo—a small silver wheel with seven spokes.
> "The Wheel," he muttered under his breath.
The dying man coughed violently. Blood splattered across the marble. He looked up at Jackim, eyes cold, yet almost admiring.
> "The… Wheel knows about you," he rasped.
Then his body went limp.
Kelvin stepped back. "Bro, this is getting crazy. Who are these people?"
Jackim straightened up, wiping his hands on a towel. "The kind who don't like new players in their city."
By dawn, the bodies were gone. Jackim had made a quiet call, and a private cleanup crew arrived—men from a discreet security firm he'd unknowingly acquired through one of the System's side rewards.
Kelvin sat at the breakfast counter, staring at his untouched food.
"You're too calm for someone who just survived an assassination attempt."
Jackim sipped his coffee. "Panic doesn't solve problems."
> "Yeah, but neither does pretending you're in a movie!" Kelvin snapped. "You almost died last night!"
Jackim looked at him quietly. "I didn't. That's what matters."
The tension hung heavy. Then Kelvin sighed. "What's next, man? You can't just sit around waiting for more of them."
Jackim leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.
"That's exactly what they expect me to do—run or hide. But I don't hide."
> "So you're going to fight a whole organization?" Kelvin asked incredulously.
A faint smile touched Jackim's lips. "If they want war, they'll get it."
Later that day, while driving through the city in his Phantom, Jackim's phone vibrated again—not a message, but the familiar mechanical chime of the System.
> [System Update: New Quest Available.]
Quest: Investigate The Wheel Organization.]
Objective: Gather intel, identify structure, eliminate local threats.]
Reward: 1,000,000 USD + Hidden Skill.]
Penalty for Failure: Reputation loss.]
Jackim smirked. "Guess we're thinking the same thing."
He parked by the roadside, engine idling.
For a moment, he watched the people walking past—the rich kids, the working-class, the ordinary lives that never saw what lurked behind the city's glass towers.
He had been one of them once. Now, he was playing a game they couldn't even imagine.
> "System," he murmured, "track all digital traces of The Wheel. Names, accounts, transactions—start with Sue City."
> [Processing… Accessing global data clusters.]
[Warning: Host has triggered classified encryption barrier.]
A faint static buzzed in his ears.
> [Attempting bypass. Estimated time: 72 hours.]
Jackim smirked. "Do it quietly. No alarms."
That night, someone rang the villa's doorbell.
Kelvin jumped. "Don't tell me it's round two."
Jackim motioned for him to stay put and opened the door.
A woman stood outside—tall, sharp-featured, dressed in a sleek gray suit. She held a badge.
"Detective Arlene Voss, Sue City Police."
Jackim's guard rose immediately. "How can I help you?"
> "We found traces of blood on the hill road near your estate. Witnesses saw three unidentified men heading this way. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Jackim's face stayed neutral. "Can't say I do. I was home all night."
Her gaze was piercing, like she could read lies. "You're quite famous lately, Mr. Ochieng. Sudden wealth, luxury properties, mysterious background… Some people are starting to ask questions."
He met her eyes. "Let them. I don't owe anyone explanations."
A faint smirk tugged at her lips. "Fair enough. But let me give you a piece of advice—money attracts shadows. And shadows bite."
Then she turned and walked away, heels clicking against the stone driveway.
Kelvin peeked from the hallway. "She's hot, bro. But she's trouble."
Jackim closed the door. "Everyone's trouble, Kelvin. You just pick which kind you want to deal with."
At 2:00 a.m., the System chimed again.
Jackim woke instantly, eyes sharp.
> [Skill Upgrade: Martial Arts Lv.2 → Lv.3.]
[New Passive Unlocked: Enhanced Combat Intuition.]
[Temporary Bonus: Physical Regeneration +20%.]
Then another line appeared—one that made his heart beat faster.
> [Side Alert: The Wheel has initiated Counter-Observation.]
[Their agents are watching you.]
He stood up, walked to the window, and looked out.
Far down the road, across from the villa, a black sedan was parked. Headlights off, engine quiet. A silhouette sat inside.
Jackim smiled faintly. "Then watch closely."
He turned away and began training—punches, footwork, flow. The system enhanced every motion. His fists blurred, his breath steady, his control absolute.
Each movement carried more than strength—it carried purpose.
He wasn't just surviving anymore.
He was preparing.
At sunrise, Kelvin found an envelope on the doorstep. No name. No address.
Inside was a single photo—Jackim, walking near campus, taken from a distance.
Behind the photo, a handwritten note in bold ink:
> "You survived the first move. Let's see how many more." – W
Kelvin's hands shook as he showed it to Jackim.
"Bro… they're not stopping."
Jackim looked at the photo for a long time, then slipped it into his jacket pocket.
> "Good," he said quietly. "Neither am I."
He turned toward the balcony, watching the sun break through the clouds.
The light fell across his face, sharp and golden, reflecting off the quiet determination in his eyes.
The old Jackim had been poor, powerless, desperate for approval.
This new one—was something else entirely.
The game had changed.
He wasn't just the Bragger anymore.
He was the storm.