Preparations took two weeks.
Tom did indeed know someone who understood explosives—his former comrade-in-arms, a madman named “Boomer Dan,” who was currently working at a Quarry in the Desert.
Richard and Franklin drove for three hours to find him, exchanging two thousand dollars and two cases of beer for six remote explosives.
Lester handled the security system.
He set up a signal jammer on the roof across from the jewelry store, which could paralyze all cameras and alarms within thirty seconds.
Michael was responsible for recruiting the driver and gunman—he found two old acquaintances, one a retired racing driver and the other a taciturn mercenary.
Looking at these two, Richard felt they were much more reliable than the NPCs in the game.
The operation was set for Saturday night.
The jewelry store closed at nine, and the security guards changed shifts at ten, leaving a fifteen-minute window in between.
“Everyone follow my lead,” Lester said over the comms.
“Richard, you’re responsible for taking Franklin and Michael in through the sewers.
Once inside, you have ninety seconds to load up.
After ninety seconds, no matter how much you’ve got, you must evacuate!”
“Why ninety seconds?” Lamar asked.
He was there too, responsible for driving the getaway vehicle.
“Because after ninety seconds, the signal jammer’s battery will run out.
The cameras will come back online, the alarm will sound, and the police will arrive within three minutes.”
Richard took a deep breath and followed Michael and Franklin into the sewer.
The smell was a hundred times more realistic than in the game—it stank like someone had been pickling sauerkraut in there for a hundred years.
He suppressed the urge to vomit and moved forward, hunched over.
“You’re there,” Lester said.
“There’s a brick wall in front of you; behind it is the jewelry store’s vault.
Blow it!”
With a muffled “boom,” a hole was blown through the brick wall.
Before the dust could even settle, Michael was the first to crawl through, followed closely by Franklin, with Richard bringing up the rear.
The vault was filled with glass display cases, packed with diamond necklaces, emerald rings, and ruby earrings.
Richard had seen this scene countless times in the game, but when they appeared before his eyes for real, the glittering pressure of it all made him daze for a moment.
“Don’t just stand there!
Start loading!” Michael had already smashed the first display case and was sweeping the jewelry into a bag.
Franklin was in charge of prying open the lockboxes, while Richard used the system’s mini-map to mark all the most valuable items—the system could actually display the estimated value of the jewelry, a function he hadn’t known about before.
“Top left, third display case.
There’s a sapphire necklace in there worth a hundred and fifty thousand,” Richard directed.
“Second drawer on the right, there are thirty high-end watches inside.”
“The safe in the corner, the combination is 12-left, 34-right, 56-left—Lester told me.”
Ninety seconds flew by.
“Ten seconds left!” Lester shouted.
“Withdraw!” Michael ran toward the hole, clutching the bulging bags.
Richard took one last look at the vault to ensure no valuables were missed, then turned to follow.
Just then, he heard a sound that shouldn’t have been there—footsteps.
Footsteps coming from another direction.
“Someone’s coming!” Franklin shouted.
A security guard appeared at the other end of the vault, holding a flashlight and a handgun.
He clearly wasn’t the one for the shift change—he was working overtime and hadn’t received the notice to “change shifts on time.”
The guard raised his gun and yelled, “Don’t move!
Drop the bags and get on the ground!”
Michael and Franklin had already scrambled through the hole into the sewer.
Richard was still three meters away.
The guard fired.
The first shot hit the wall beside Richard, sending stone chips flying that cut his cheek.
The second shot—Richard felt his left shoulder get slammed by a red-hot sledgehammer, and his whole body pitched forward.
“Dammit!!
Richard!” Franklin’s voice came from the hole.
Richard looked down at his left shoulder; there was a bullet hole, and blood was gushing out.
Sharp pain surged through his body like an electric current, his fingers went numb, and his vision began to blur.
“System—System!” he screamed in his mind.
The system panel popped up, and his HP was dropping rapidly: 78, 65, 51, 42…
[Warning: Severe trauma.
Immediate medical attention advised.]
“I know I need a doctor, just give me some health back!” Richard gritted his teeth and climbed up, clutching his left shoulder with his right hand as he stumbled into the hole.
Behind him, the guard fired again; the bullet grazed his calf, and his HP dropped to 35.
Franklin grabbed his arm and dragged him deep into the sewer.
Michael led the way, cursing as he ran, “You got shot?!”
“I think so…” Richard’s voice was trembling.
“What do you mean ‘you think so’?
You’ve got a hole in your shoulder!”
Lamar’s truck was parked right by the sewer exit.
When he saw Richard being dragged out covered in blood, his face went white.
“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit—”
“Stop with the ‘holy shits’ and drive!” Michael threw Richard into the back seat, Franklin hopped into the passenger side, and Lamar floored it, the pickup truck tearing away faster than it ever had before. This story is hosted at novelping(.)com.
Richard lay on the back seat, his blood staining the upholstery red.
He stared at the roof of the truck, suddenly feeling very cold—not the cold of winter, but the cold of “the body giving up.”
“System, am I going to die?” Richard asked silently in his heart.
The system did not answer.
But he saw a line of small text in the corner of the system panel:
[Transmigrators cannot obtain immortality.
Death will result in the permanent deletion of the save file.]
Permanent deletion of the save file.
It wasn’t a reload, it wasn’t a respawn coin; it was true death!
Richard closed his eyes and suddenly wanted to laugh.
He had always thought that transmigrating into a game meant he had God Mode and infinite lives.
But now he knew—this Los Santos was real, the blood was real, the pain was real, and death was real too.
“Don’t sleep!” Franklin turned around and slapped his face hard.
“Richard!
Look at me!”
Richard opened his eyes and saw tears in Franklin’s eyes.
Lamar was crying, sobbing as he drove, snot and tears smeared across his face.
Michael was silent in the front, but the hand holding his phone was shaking as he contacted Lester to find a doctor.
“I’m okay…” Richard managed a grin.
“Just a bit sleepy.”
“You’re not allowed to be fucking sleepy!” Lamar roared.
“If you’re gone, who am I going to use as my strategist?
Michael?
He doesn’t even know how to use a phone!”
“Bullshit!!
I know how to use a phone!” Michael protested.
“The last text you sent me was full of typos!”
Richard listened to them bicker, his consciousness fading bit by bit.
Before he lost consciousness completely, he heard one final system prompt:
[Main Quest [Jewelry Store Heist] Completed.
Grade: A-.
Rewards: Skill Points +5, total favorability increase.
Unlocked hidden info: [The Real Los Santos] — This world is a real simulation; player death is permanent.]
[Special Prompt: Your existence has influenced the main storyline.
A new branch has opened.]
Then, total darkness.