CHAPTER 21: TIER ADVANCEMENT
Marcus Webb kept a photograph on his desk.
I noticed it through the office window—sixth floor, corner suite, the kind of view that cost more than my apartment's yearly rent. The photograph showed a woman and two children. School-age, maybe. Smiling.
Don't think about the family.
I checked my watch. 11:47 PM. Webb had sent his secretary home at nine. The building guard changed shifts at midnight. That gave me a thirteen-minute window where the lobby would be empty.
Ghost Mode activated on my mental command.
The familiar cold washed over me. Cameras in the lobby flickered but didn't record my passage. The electronic lock on the back stairwell door clicked open—the System's influence extending beyond mere surveillance disruption. I climbed six flights with my hand on the Glock's grip, counting steps to burn the adrenaline.
Two hundred thirty-four stairs. Six landings. Emergency lights only.
The door to Webb's floor required a keycard. I'd copied one from his secretary's bag three days ago—a brush pass in the building lobby, sleight of hand I'd practiced until my fingers ached. The card worked. The door opened. The hallway stretched empty ahead.
Webb's office light was on. Through the frosted glass, I could see him moving. Working late. Probably cooking books for people who'd kill him if they knew how much he skimmed.
They won't get the chance.
I opened the door without knocking.
Marcus Webb looked up from his computer. He was older than his file photo—gray at the temples, bags under his eyes, the soft body of a man who'd spent decades behind a desk. His expression shifted from annoyance to confusion to fear in the span of a heartbeat.
"Who—"
Two shots. Center mass. The suppressor coughed twice.
Webb jerked back in his chair, hands clutching his chest. Blood spread through his white shirt like ink through water. He tried to speak, but only managed a wet gurgle.
I stepped closer. Checked his pulse. Confirmed.
[CONTRACT COMPLETE] [TARGET: MARCUS WEBB (SILVER)] [REWARD: 100 BLOOD COINS AWARDED] [TOTAL BLOOD COINS: 525]
The notification washed through my consciousness like a wave of ice water. But it wasn't done.
[TIER 2 THRESHOLD REACHED] [ADVANCEMENT INITIATING...]
Pain.
Not the brand-burning pain of contract issuance. Something deeper. Something that reached into the core of what I was and twisted.
I dropped to one knee, vision swimming. Webb's body slumped in its chair beside me. The photograph of his family stared from the desk—his wife, his children, forever frozen in a moment of happiness they'd never know again.
Don't think about the family don't think about the family don't—
[TIER 2 UNLOCKED: PROVEN] [NEW FUNCTION AVAILABLE: THE LEDGER] [NEW FUNCTION AVAILABLE: SOCIAL INFILTRATION] [STAT POINTS AWARDED: +5 (DISTRIBUTABLE)]
The pain receded. In its place, something new.
The Ledger opened in my mind like a door I hadn't known existed. Suddenly I could see contracts—not just my own, but the entire network. Bounties posted. Debts owed. A web of obligations and vendettas stretching across the city, the country, the world.
It was overwhelming. Beautiful. Terrifying.
I staggered upright, bracing myself against Webb's desk. The photograph fell. I caught it before it hit the floor, then set it face-down on the mahogany surface.
Better if they don't see his face when they find him.
The thought surprised me. Sentiment had no place in this work. Yet here I was, arranging a dead man's family photos like it mattered.
Maybe it does. Maybe that's what keeps me human.
I left the building the same way I'd entered. Ghost Mode covered my exit. The guard never saw me pass.
The October air hit my face like a slap. Cold now, properly autumn. I'd been in this world for almost a month. Long enough to kill six people. Long enough to earn a promotion in the System's hierarchy.
Tier 2. The Ledger. Social Infiltration.
I found a bench in a small park and sat, letting the new sensations settle. The Ledger was still there, humming at the edges of my awareness. I could access it now—a mental command, like Ghost Mode, but passive rather than active.
I opened it.
Information cascaded.
[ACTIVE CONTRACTS: 247] [CONTINENTAL NEW YORK - OPEN BOUNTIES: 23] [MARKER OBLIGATIONS - CITYWIDE: 89] [HIGH PRIORITY - UNUSUAL ACTIVITY DETECTED]
High priority. Unusual activity. I focused on the alert.
[TARASOV ORGANIZATION - ELEVATED THREAT STATUS] [JOHN WICK - STATUS CHANGED: ACTIVE] [BOUNTY POSTED: $2,000,000] [ISSUER: VIGGO TARASOV] [NOTES: "Kill John Wick. End the Baba Yaga."]
My blood ran cold.
It's starting.
I pulled up more details, scrolling through the Ledger's records with a thought. Fragments of intelligence, pieced together from Continental sources.
"Someone touched his car." "The dog. They killed the dog." "Iosef Tarasov is already dead. He just doesn't know it yet."
The timestamp on the bounty posting was yesterday. John Wick had been out of retirement for less than forty-eight hours.
I thought about Elena's warnings. The Tarasov tension she'd sensed. Viggo calling in markers. All of it building to this moment—the moment Iosef's stupidity ignited a war.
Two million dollars for John Wick's head. A bounty that will never be collected.
I knew how this story ended. The first movie—if my memories of that life could be trusted—had been a symphony of professional violence. John Wick tearing through the Tarasov organization like a force of nature. The Red Circle. The church. The final confrontation. Bodies stacked like cordwood.
And somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, opportunity.
I stood from the bench. My legs felt steadier now. The Tier 2 advancement had changed something fundamental—I could feel it in my reflexes, my awareness, the way the Ledger fed me information without conscious effort.
The Baba Yaga is awake. The underworld is about to burn.
A newsstand caught my eye. I bought a paper, checked the date.
October 2014.
The same month John Wick's world ended. The same month mine really began.
I thought about the contracts I'd completed. The skills I'd developed. The resources I'd accumulated over three weeks of bloody work. All of it preparation for what came next.
Stay away from the Russians, Elena had warned.
I intended to. But staying away didn't mean staying blind. The Ledger gave me eyes on the entire underworld. I could track the war's progress without getting involved. Find opportunities in the chaos. Build my position while bigger players destroyed each other.
The System hummed satisfaction.
[CURRENT STATUS UPDATE] [BLOOD COINS: 525] [TIER: 2 (PROVEN)] [FUNCTIONS: THE MARKER, GHOST MODE, ADRENALINE SHOT, THE LEDGER, SOCIAL INFILTRATION] [NEXT MARKER: 6 DAYS, 14 HOURS]
Six days until my next contract. Six days to watch John Wick do what John Wick did best.
I folded the newspaper and headed for the subway. The Continental would be buzzing with news. Elena would have details. And somewhere in the city, a legend was loading his weapons.
The Baba Yaga is waking up.
I just need to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.
The train pulled into the station. I stepped aboard, one killer among thousands of commuters who'd never know what walked among them.
In my head, the Ledger pulsed with information. Contracts and bounties and the intricate web of debts that bound this shadow world together.
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