William left the Hotel and returned to his rental.
Normally, no one went looking for trouble without a reason.
Too easy to get burned.
He checked his upgraded phone.
More permissions meant more access.
But it also meant he was no longer invisible.
He found his name on the bounty board.
Ten thousand dollars.
Pocket change compared to the real monsters at the top.
Still plenty dangerous for him.
The bounty made no sense.
He’d been quietly cleaning.
Didn’t bother anyone.
How乖巧 could a guy be?
He opened his skill panel, looking for reassurance.
Handgun had stayed at Level One, but the skill’s scope had widened.
The real prizes were the new unlocks: Bloodhound and Blur.
Bloodhound LV1: The more you handle, the more blood stains your eyes.
Now you can see faint traces of blood.
William tested it.
About a three-meter range.
A translucent red line appeared in his vision.
Perfect for hunting down those last stubborn stains.
Finally, a cure for his OCD.
His nose also sharpened, but only for blood.
Blur: Long hours have taken a toll on your vision.
But when you can’t see others, they can’t see you either.
Your presence fades.
Passive skill.
Small chance of being overlooked.
Better in crowds.
But his eyesight was definitely worse.
Felt like he’d unlocked some kind of super mode.
Nothing a pair of glasses couldn’t fix.
He got fitted right after leaving the Hotel.
The frames made him look softer.
Almost harmless.
Then he started digging.
Why the bounty?
The answer was painfully simple.
Everyone was talking about it.
He and White Dove were the only survivors of the bar massacre.
That made enemies.
One side hated that they didn’t finish the job.
The other hated that anyone lived to talk about it.
Did William say anything?
Didn’t matter.
Someone decided he did.
Ten grand on his head.
Word got around.
Another party realized his survival pissed off their rivals.
Now they were coordinating.
The deal was two weeks.
After that, the bounty would be lifted.
White Dove had apparently pulled some strings.
William looked up his new contact.
White Dove ran a multi-city intelligence network.
They mostly just observed.
That’s why a dove meant peace.
But where they went, blood followed.
The bar manager’s pale face made perfect sense now.
William knew his mission.
Survive two weeks.
He flipped three gold coins between his fingers.
Only three.
The Hotel charged one coin for three days of protection.
Nine days.
Not enough.
He’d have to handle this himself.
The street outside looked calm.
Normal.
But William knew better.
His neck prickled just thinking about someone waiting in the stairwell with a clear shot.
Paranoia took over.
He blocked the door with a sofa, leaving a gap for his gun.
Curtains stayed shut.
Lock rigged to resist forced entry.
Weapons within arm’s reach.
He sat on the edge of his bed, expression grim, ready for whatever came.
The first day passed.
Then a week.
Thank God he’d stocked up.
The van in the parking lot was covered in dust.
The apartment looked abandoned.
William didn’t waste the time.
He practiced reloading.
Over and over.
He felt dangerous now.
Like he could take on Joe himself.
Speed was life in a gunfight.
Every second saved was survival.
Outside, the sun set again.
On a nearby rooftop, a sniper sighed and started breaking down his rifle.
He’d been camping for days.
No movement.
No lights at night.
Curtains never opened.
He’d paid good money for that address and was starting to think it was a bust.
He decided to pack it in.
Tomorrow, he was done.
He’d wasted a week on this job.
But he took one last look at the apartment.
He’d remember that name.
Paid ten grand for the intel.
Too bad.
He didn’t dare go close-quarters.
Someone that paranoid definitely had traps.
Ambush worked both ways.
William had no idea.
He kept his schedule and went to bed.
Fatigue was the enemy.
A careful man never let his guard down.
He’d barely closed his eyes when he heard it.
The bucket tipped over.
His eyes snapped open.
He dove behind his makeshift cover.
Outside the door, the sniper stood there, expression flat.
He twisted a silencer onto his pistol and set his bag in the corner.
Time to go loud.
It was the same man from the roof.
He hadn’t left after all.