Skreee... Skreee...
The sound was faint, like a rat gnawing on a pipe. It barely registered over the howling wind outside, but inside the silent, soundproofed penthouse, it was unmistakable.
Alex placed his chopsticks down on the empty bowl. The A5 Wagyu was finished. He wiped his mouth, stood up, and walked calmly toward the balcony.
[Outdoor Temp: -45°C] [Wind Chill: -60°C]
Through the darkened one-way ballistic glass, the world was a swirling vortex of white and grey. But hanging right in front of the center pane, suspended by a high-tensile climbing rope, was a figure.
He was dressed in professional alpine gear: a heated thermal suit, crampons, and a pair of military-grade night-vision goggles. He looked like a black spider clinging to the side of the skyscraper.
The climber—let's call him "The Gecko"—was busy. He was pressing a diamond-tipped industrial glass cutter against the pane, trying to carve a circle.
Alex stood three inches away from the man.
Because of the one-way coating, The Gecko saw nothing but his own reflection—a masked figure shivering violently in the gale. He didn't see the man in the t-shirt standing comfortably on the other side, watching him with the detached curiosity of a scientist observing a lab rat.
Skreee...
The cutter slipped. The glass didn't even scratch. This was Titan Security's Tier-5 polycarbonate laminate. It could stop a .50 caliber sniper round. A glass cutter was a joke.
The Gecko paused. He hammered his gloved fist against the pane in frustration. He adjusted his anchor, preparing to plant a small explosive charge on the frame.
"Ambitious," Alex muttered.
He reached out and tapped the glass from the inside.
Ting. Ting.
The Gecko froze. He leaned in, pressing his goggles against the surface, trying to peer through the darkness.
Alex reached for the dimmer switch on the wall and slowly turned up the living room lights.
The effect was instant. The one-way mirror transparency shifted.
Suddenly, The Gecko wasn't looking at his reflection. He was looking into a warm, golden living room. He saw the soft leather sofa. He saw the remnants of the hotpot steam. And he saw Alex, grinning coldly, holding a glass of red wine.
The Gecko's eyes went wide behind his goggles. He flinched back, nearly losing his footing on the icy ledge.
He didn't pull a weapon. He didn't try to detonate the charge. Instead, he slammed his hand against the glass, palm open. A gesture of surrender. Then, a gesture of begging. He pointed to his oxygen mask, then to the warmth inside, clasping his hands together in prayer.
[System Alert] [Target: Assassin (The Gecko)] [Emotion Detected: Shock, Envy, Desperation.] [Reward: +30 EP]
Alex walked over to the side of the window frame. During the renovation, he had instructed Stone to install a small, circular "defensive gun port"—a steel valve that could open just enough to stick a rifle barrel out without depressurizing the room.
He unlocked the valve.
The Gecko saw the movement. His eyes lit up with hope. He thought Alex was opening a way to talk, or maybe to pass him some food. He scrambled sideways along the rope, positioning himself right in front of the port.
"Help..." The muffled cry came through the thick glass. "Please... money... I have gold..."
Alex picked up the item he had prepared on the kitchen island. It wasn't a gun. It was a high-pressure kettle filled with boiling water.
"In physics," Alex said, his voice muffled by the steel, "hot water freezes faster than cold water. It's called the Mpemba effect."
"What?" The Gecko yelled, confused.
Alex opened the valve. "Science class is in session."
WHOOSH.
A jet of steaming, boiling water shot out of the port, hitting The Gecko square in the chest and face mask.
"AAAAHHH!"
The scream was cut short instantly. The physics of -45°C were brutal. The boiling water didn't just cool down; it vaporized and then instantly sublimated into ice.
The Gecko's heated suit short-circuited with a spark. The water soaked into his ropes, his carabiners, and the joints of his limbs.
One second, he was flailing. Three seconds later, his movements became jerky, robotic. Ten seconds later, he stopped moving entirely.
The water had encased him in a jagged, translucent shell of ice. He was frozen mid-scream, one hand reaching out toward the warmth he would never touch. The ice fused his crampons to the wall and his rope to his harness.
He wasn't falling. He was just... stuck. A permanent gargoyle added to the architecture of Riverside Gardens.
[System Log:] [Target Neutralized.] [Cause of Death: Flash Freezing.] [Harvested Despair: +100 EP]
Alex closed the steel valve and locked it. "Nice decoration," he noted. "Really ties the room together."
He turned off the living room lights, returning the glass to its mirror state.
He checked his System Panel. [Current EP: 170] (40 remaining from before + 130 gained). Not enough for the next upgrade yet.
Alex stretched, feeling a wave of exhaustion. It had been a long day. Rebirth, loans, shopping, construction, and now murder. He needed sleep.
He walked toward the bedroom. But before he could reach the door, every electronic device in the penthouse lit up simultaneously.
The 85-inch TV turned on. His phone screen flashed white. Even the smart fridge display flickered.
[EMERGENCY ALERT SYSTEM] [MANDATORY BROADCAST]
Static hissed through the speakers, harsh and jagged. Then, a face appeared. It was a man in a military uniform, sitting in a bunker. The lighting was dim, and the camera was shaking slightly. He looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes.
"Citizens of the Alliance," the general's voice was grim. "This is General Harris. As of 02:00 hours, martial law is in effect."
Alex stopped. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Here it comes," he whispered. "The lie."
"The current weather anomaly is caused by... a geomagnetic shift," the General lied. "It is temporary. I repeat, it is temporary. Do not panic."
On the screen, behind the General, Alex noticed something the cameraman missed. A person in a hazmat suit was running in the background, carrying a sample container that was glowing with a faint, blue light.
"Stay in your homes," the General continued. "Emergency rescue teams are being deployed. Food and heating supplies will be distributed to designated Safe Zones. If you are near a Safe Zone, proceed there immediately. The coordinates are..."
A map flashed on the screen. The nearest "Safe Zone" was the the City Stadium—three miles away.
Alex laughed. A dry, humorless sound. In his past life, he had believed this broadcast. He had packed his bag and tried to walk to the stadium. Half the people who tried died on the road, frozen in their cars. The other half reached the stadium, only to find the doors locked. The military wasn't letting people in; they were keeping people out to save supplies for themselves. The "Safe Zones" were mass graves.
"Do not listen to rumors," the General's voice grew stern. "Anyone caught looting or hoarding resources will be shot on sight. We will survive this. God bless us all."
Zzzzt. The screen cut to black.
The broadcast ended.
Alex looked at his phone. The Building Group Chat was lighting up again.
[Neighbor 302:] Did you hear that? Rescue is coming! [Neighbor 707:] Thank God! We just have to wait for the army! [Madam Li:] See? I told you! The government won't abandon us. Alex, you're going to be in so much trouble when the army gets here. They shoot hoarders!
Alex shook his head. "Sheep. Leading themselves to the slaughter."
He typed one last message into the group chat before going to bed.
"The Stadium is a lie. If you go outside, you die. If you stay inside, you starve. Good luck."
He tossed the phone onto the sofa and walked into his bedroom. The master bed was covered in a thick, heated down duvet. The air was warm. He crawled in, burying himself in the softness.
Outside, the wind howled like a dying beast. Inside, Alex slept like a baby.
[End of Chapter 6]