It hadn't even been a a.few hours since I began the mission for fifty thousand dollars, and now the system was promising a hundred thousand just to protect myself—something I would have done even if it hadn't asked. I knew this system was going to spoil me, even if I was just doing my normal routine. My normal routine, however, had never involved a gun. A real, live, shaking-in-a-stranger's-hand gun that could end my brand-new, system-powered life before it even began.
The world didn't just slow down; it crystallized and froze. Every detail became razor-sharp and horrifyingly detailed. I could see the cheap, black paint chipping off the pistol's grip. I could count the individual threads on the robber's dirty grey hoodie. I could smell the acrid scent of his sweat cutting through the lemon-fresh cleaner. My own heartbeat wasn't just in my ears; it was a frantic, pounding drum solo moving through my entire damn skeleton.
The system's red alert pulsed in my vision, a searing, urgent heartbeat of light that screamed "DANGER."
The figure, a lanky guy drowning in a hoodie two sizes too big for him waved the pistol in a shaky arc.
"The register! Empty it! Now, or I swear I'll... I'll do it!" he shouted, his voice shaking on the threat, betraying a nervous energy that made the weapon in his hand infinitely more unpredictable and deadly.
Maya was frozen, a statue of pure terror. All the color had drained from her face, leaving her pale as milk. Her hands were pressed so hard against her mouth, it looked like she was trying to physically hold a scream inside. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, were locked on the gun.
My mind, for a terrifying second, was a blank, white slate of fear. This wasn't a video game. This was real freaking life. One wrong twitch from his finger, and one of us wasn't walking away. But the system's prompt glowed in my mind, somewhat calming and motivating.
[Aura farming moment detected.]
The words were so absurd they almost snapped me out of my panic. This wasn't just about survival; it was a test. My first real test. Was I the same scared Leo who got pushed around, or was I something new?
The robber took a jerky step toward the counter, his eyes darting between a petrified Maya and the cash register. His attention was split. It was the only chance I was going to get.
I moved on an instinct I didn't realize was there. My plan was simple, born from a thousand action movies: to tackle him. I took two quick, silent steps, my body coiled like a spring, and my foot connected squarely with a metal mop bucket someone had left out after cleaning.
"CLANG-BANG-CRASH!"
The sound was explosively loud, a metallic clatter that echoed like a gunshot in the quiet shop. The robber spun towards me, his head on a swivel, the gun jerking wildly until it found me. "I said stay back!" he screamed, his eyes wide with a fresh shot of panic.
So much for the element of surprise.
He swung the gun toward my chest, and I dove to the side, my body moving before my brain could process the command. I crashed into a tall stack of chairs that had been leaning precariously against a wall. They came down in a deafening rhythm of clattering wood and screeching metal, scattering across the floor like pickup sticks. The noise was so immense it finally broke the dam for Maya. She let out a piercing, blood-curdling scream that seemed to go on forever.
"Shut up! Just shut up and give me the money!" the robber yelled, turning back toward her, distracted by her outburst.
I scrambled to my feet, my lungs burning for air. Adrenaline was a fire in my veins, burning away the fear, leaving behind a strange, cold clarity. I grabbed one of the fallen wooden chairs, its legs pointing outward, and held it in front of me like a gladiator's shield. He saw the movement and spun back, eyes wild, he fired.
"BANG!"
The sound was unimaginable. It wasn't like in the movies. It was a sharp, concussive "CRACK." The bullet tore through the center of the chair seat, splintering the wood mere inches from my face. A sharp piece of debris nicked my cheek. My ears rang with a high-pitched whine, muffling all other sound. What the fuck, he'd actually shot at me. He'd meant it.
The shock of the gunshot seemed to startle him as much as it did me. The recoil had jerked his arm up, and he stared at the weapon in his hand for a split second, as if surprised by what it had done. That one second of hesitation was my opening.
A raw, guttural roar tore from my throat. I didn't know I was capable of making such a sound. It was all the pent-up frustration, the humiliation, and the rage at Elise, at my family, and at every person who had ever made me feel small, channeled into one primal yell. I charged him, using the shattered chair as a battering ram. I drove the legs straight into his chest.
The air left his lungs in a pained "oof." He stumbled backward, his arms flailing for balance. His foot caught on the leg of another fallen chair, and the gun in his hand went off again.
"BANG!"
The second shot was even louder to my ringing ears. The bullet buried itself into the ceiling with a thud and a puff of white plaster dust that drifted down like snow.
We crashed into a small, round bistro table. It exploded under our combined weight, the flimsy wood and metal base splintering and twisting. We landed in a heap on the hard floor amidst the wreckage of the table. The gun flew from his grasp, skittering across the tiles and sliding under a booth, disappearing into the darkness.
It was just him and me now.
He was skinny but wiry, and the raw, desperate fear made him strong. He scrambled on top of me, his knees digging painfully into my shoulders, pinning me down. His dirty hands, with bitten nails, clawed at my face. I got my arms up, blocking his wild, panicked swings. Spit flew from his mouth as he snarled, his hood falling back to reveal a young, gaunt face, maybe early twenties, twisted with a terrifying mix of desperation and rage.
One of his frantic punches got through my guard, connecting solidly with my jaw. White, dazzling light exploded behind my eyes. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth from where I'd bitten my cheek.
"No...not like this. Not after everything."
The image of Elise's smug, contemptuous smile flashed in my mind. The feel of that torn contract in my hands. The system's golden promise of a new life. This scared kid wasn't going to take that from me. He wasn't the final boss of my story; he was just a minor obstacle.
With a surge of strength that felt like it came from somewhere outside myself, I brought my knee up hard into his side. He grunted in pain, a satisfying, wheezing sound. His grip loosened for a precious second. I bucked my hips and shoved with all my might, throwing him off balance. I rolled, and suddenly I was on top, the positions reversed. Now I was the one pinning him down in the wreckage of the table.
I didn't think, nor did I hesitate. I just swung. My fist connected with his face. A sickening, wet crunch. I swung again and again. It was ugly, brutal, and visceral. There was no art to it, no freaking design, just a bloody mess. It was as if I needed to vent, and his face was the perfect target.
He stopped fighting back, going limp beneath me, sobbing incoherently. "Stop... please... stop..."
Panting, my chest heaving, I staggered off him. My body was trembling, a combination of adrenaline crash and raw exertion. My heart was a runaway train in my ears. I looked over at Maya. She was slumped against the counter, sobbing hysterically, her whole body shaking violently.
The system screen flashed, the violent red alert replaced by a brilliant, triumphant gold.
[Urgent Quest: Neutralize the Threat—COMPLETE!]
[Reward: 100 Affection Points Granted!]
[$100,000 Transferred to Secure Account!]
[Random Skill Unlocked: Flirt master (Level 1). This skill boosts the speed of Affection when used on a target.]