The beeping is getting faster.
Mavis stands in the center of his destroyed penthouse, surrounded by bodies and blinking red lights. The shaped charges pulse in rhythm, the countdown stands at Thirty seconds.
The elevator doors have already closed. The woman from Mandy's team is gone, the wounded operative has dragged himself through the service entrance leaving a trail of blood behind.
Mavis is alone, his mind races through options. The stairwell is too far.The elevator won't come back in time, running won't save him.
The System calculates survival probabilities in cold blue numbers:
[Escape via stairwell: 12% survival rate.]
[Remain in location: 0% survival rate.]
[Alternative route detected...]
Mavis's eyes snap to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Reinforced glass, designed to withstand hurricanes, but shaped charges placed correctly could blow them outward, and if he times it right...
[Twenty seconds.]
He makes a move. The woman's body lies near the elevator, two neat holes in her chest, the body armor kept her alive long enough to press that detonator. Mavis grabs her corpse by the tactical vest, pulling her up.
[Fifteen seconds.]
He runs toward the windows, dragging the body with him. His shoulder screams from the gunshot graze, but the adrenaline drowns out the pain.
[Ten seconds.]
The System highlights the weakest point in the glass—a section near the corner where the frame connects to the wall. Mavis aims his Glock, fires three rounds into the same spot.
[Seven seconds.]
He takes three running steps, throws himself forward, and slams into the weakened glass with the dead woman's body positioned as a shield in front of him.
The window explodes outward.
Glass shards erupt into the night air like a thousand knives. Mavis feels the woman's body absorb most of the impact as they crash through, tumbling into open space.
Behind him, the penthouse erupts.
The shaped charges detonate in perfect sequence, a rolling thunder that tears through steel and concrete. Flames Burp from the windows. The entire top floor of Phoenix Tower becomes an inferno, lighting up the night sky with orange and red.
Mavis falls through the air, still clutching the corpse. The wind screams past his ears. The ground rushes up to meet him.
The System floods his body with enhanced durability, reinforced bone density, and muscle tension calibrated for maximum shock absorption.
[Impact in 1.2 seconds.]
[Brace for landing.]
He hits a lower rooftop, his legs buckle on impact, the dead woman's body crumpling beneath him. Pain explodes through his knees and spine, but nothing breaks.
He rolls instinctively, bleeding off momentum, tumbling across the rough surface until friction stops him.
For a moment, he just lies there, gasping for air. Every part of his body hurts. His ears ring from the explosion. Smoke billows from Phoenix Tower above, black and thick against the night sky.
He's alive.The System confirms it:
[Mission Complete: Combat Survival.]
[Reward Unlocked: Enhanced Reflexes.]
[New Skill Acquired: Tactical Analysis—predict enemy movements 3 seconds in advance.]
[Vengeance Progress: 35%.]
Mavis pushes himself up slowly, testing his limbs. Everything still works fine. Bruised, battered, bleeding from a dozen small cuts, but functional.
He stands on shaky legs and looks up.
Phoenix Tower's top floor is completely Consumed. Flames lick out of shattered windows. The structure groans as support beams weaken. In the distance, sirens wail, growing louder.
And above it all, the steady thump of helicopter rotors. Media choppers, circling like vultures, cameras rolling. By morning, this will be national news.
"The Phantom Financier survives assassination attempt."
A bitter smile crossed Mavis's face. He'd wanted to stay anonymous, operate from the shadows. That plan just literally went up in smoke.
He moves toward the roof access door, limping slightly. His shoulder throbs where the bullet grazed him—he needs to disappear before first responders lock down the area.
The door opens onto a stairwell,and Mavis descends quickly,ignoring the pain. Floor after floor,emergency lighting casts everything in harsh red
He emerges on the ground level through a side exit that leads into an alley between buildings. The cool morning air hits his face. Dawn is breaking over New Harbor, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold.
Mavis pulls his hood up and steps into the alley, heading toward the main street. He needs to blend in, get lost in the morning crowds before it's too late. But it's already late. Three black SUVs screech around the corner, blocking both ends of the alley.
Mavis stops walking.
The vehicles' doors burst open. Eight men pour out. They're dressed like street soldiers, leather and denim, tattoos visible on their necks and knuckles. Each one of them is armed.
(Vik'ki's crew.)
They spread out in formation, cutting off every escape route Professionally. This isn't a random encounter,they've been waiting for him.
A tall man steps forward from the center group. He's older than the others, maybe forty, with a scar running down the left side of his face. His eyes are cold and calculating.
A lieutenant. Someone who's been in the game long enough to know how it works.
"Mavis Donard," the lieutenant says. His voice is rough like a gravel scraping against concrete. "Or should I call you Mr. Phoenix?"
Mavis doesn't respond. His hand drifts toward his waistband where the Glock is tucked, but the movement is subtle.
The lieutenant notices anyway. He smiles. "I wouldn't. You're good, we saw that upstairs. But you're also outnumbered, exhausted, and bleeding. This doesn't have to get ugly."
"What do you want?" Mavis asks quietly.
"Boss wants to see you." The lieutenant pulls a cigarette from his pocket, lights it with a silver Zippo. "Tonight. Ten PM. You don't get to say no."
Mavis's jaw tightens. "And if I refuse?"
The lieutenant takes a long drag, then exhales smoke slowly. "Then we drag you there in pieces. Your choice."
The men around him shift slightly, hands moving toward weapons. The threat is clear and absolute.
Mavis is fast,The System has made him faster than any normal human. He could probably take down three,or more of them before the rest react.
But not when he's already injured and running on fumes.
The lieutenant reaches into his jacket, Mavis is alert and ready to move.
But the man doesn't pull a gun. Instead, he produces a small black card with gold lettering embossed on the surface. He flicks it toward Mavis, It lands at his feet.
Mavis picks it up slowly, keeping his eyes on the lieutenant.
The card is heavy and expensive. An address is printed in elegant script: **Pier 47, Warehouse District.** Below it, is a time: **10:00 PM.**
"Come alone," the lieutenant says. "Boss wants to talk business. You're making waves in his city. He wants to know if you're smart enough to survive them."
He drops the cigarette, crushes it under his boot. "See you tonight, Mr. Phoenix."
The lieutenant gestures to his men. They climb back into the SUVs with military precision, and doze off.