Abi stood at the entrance.
He didn’t even dare step inside to inspect the work.
He was afraid of getting the floor dirty.
Damn, this was good work.
Real good work.
Abi glanced at William.
Never judge a book by its cover.
What did it feel like to strike gold?
It felt like figuring out how to keep the gold around.
Abi hopped into his car and came back a moment later with an envelope.
He walked over and handed it to William, along with a business card.
Abi gave William his assurance.
“Good work, partner.
Next time I’ve got a job, I’ll call you.
That’s my card.
If you ever need anything from me, just ask.
Price is negotiable.” Then he noticed William had come by subway.
Abi’s eyes lit up even more.
No car meant what?
A total newbie.
Fresh meat.
Skilled, broke, and gullible.
The perfect workhorse.
The more Abi thought about it, the better he felt.
With a grand wave of his hand, he gifted William a Chevy van.
The previous boss’s Cleaner used to drive one of these things.
Unassuming and roomy.
William’s mood improved too.
Eight thousand dollars for the job, plus a free van.
He was practically stealing.
Grinning, he took the envelope and tucked the card away.
Not bad.
He’d forgive them for making him work so hard.
After William drove off, Abi took one more look at the warehouse, then at the information he had on William.
He silently memorized the name, then logged a five-star review out of respect.
Humming a tune, Abi got in his car and drove away.
His luck had been incredible lately.
First he got promoted, then he met a talented rookie.
No question about it, he needed a drink tonight.
A day worth celebrating.
Meanwhile, William’s name quietly climbed the rankings.
The perfect storm.
A rookie assassin.
His first contract got a five-star review.
That landed William’s name at the bottom of the Downtown district’s newbie assassin leaderboard.
Outsiders couldn’t see what specific jobs members completed, only the ratings.
Since William had registered as an assassin, the assassin rankings were what mattered.
And so the misunderstanding was born.
Everyone started asking around about this new kid named William.
No one knew which crew he belonged to.
After asking around and finding nothing, word spread that he was a lone wolf.
Annabelle at the Continental front desk naturally got the news.
She was the one who’d checked him in after all.
She never expected the guy to be so capable.
She summarized a few observations for the Continental’s Manager, along with a photo from the security footage.
William’s profile started circulating in select circles.
Book saw the messages from home and found it hard to comment.
She had access to the internal files.
But per High Table protocol, she couldn’t say anything.
Though she had no idea why an assassin was taking Cleaner jobs.
All she could offer her people was a vague statement.
William was just…
weird.
As for the man himself, William had no idea what was happening.
As a clueless newbie with zero connections, his top priority was finding a place to live.
Downtown was peaceful as ever.
Trash everywhere.
People with nothing to do loitering on every corner.
After some thought, William decided to bind the van as his official vehicle.
First, it had plenty of space.
Second, it was unremarkable.
Third, he needed a car for work.
He couldn’t afford anything else.
Driving along, William suddenly realized he didn’t have a place to stay.
That was the downside of being a solo operator.
Lodging was his own problem.
William wasn’t picky about housing.
Four walls and a roof were enough.
He pulled over to a street parking spot.
First, he needed to count his cash before deciding what he could afford.
He opened the envelope.
Ten thousand dollars.
Wait.
Ten grand?
Wasn’t it supposed to be eight?
Looked like the client was happy with his work.
Bosses who tipped were good bosses.
Noted, Sunglasses Guy.
He logged onto the forum’s official site and found a decent-looking apartment in the rental section.
Four thousand for the first month with a deposit.
The landlord was obviously a Hotel informant, but that was fine.
He was just a small-timer.
He drove to his new home for the next month.
It was a standard apartment.
Functional.
Calling it comfortable would be generous.
William lay on the squeaky spring mattress and listened to the creaking.
He ran the numbers in his head and thought about his next steps.
He needed to open a front business.
A legitimate face.
Considering his skills, a cleaning company was the obvious choice for someone like him.
He’d set it up tomorrow.
Then he’d be a small-time boss himself.
But for now, William just wanted to rest after a full day’s work.
Unlike the tireless characters in a video game, the system’s tools only helped so much.
The labor was still on him.
With dreams of tomorrow, William drifted off to sleep.
Meanwhile, many people outside were kept awake by all kinds of messages.
As the undisputed king of Downtown’s underworld, One-Eyed Hank ruled with an iron fist.
He saw everything.
Nominally, he was under the High Table, but that was just on paper.
No king liked having someone above him.
So naturally, Hank was not as obedient as he appeared.
Planting informants in the Hotel and other gangs was routine.
More importantly, he focused on military strength.
Hank might have only one eye, but he saw clearly.
Only through force could he make the High Table think twice.
William’s file reached his desk too.
Hank glanced at it and moved on.
Minor affairs like this weren’t his concern.
At his level, he only used his own people or those with mutual interests.
William was neither.
The only reason the file even made it to his desk was Book’s cryptic comment.
William had no idea he’d missed out on someone’s attention.
But it didn’t matter.
Others had noticed him.
At least they remembered the name.
Regional reputation increased!
By the time William woke up, night had fallen.
Hungry from the whole day, he spotted a taqueria downstairs.
He ordered some tacos.
They were delicious.
Cheap and tasty.
After finishing his meal, William was about to compliment the vendor’s cooking when he heard a familiar noise from the man.
Under William’s watchful gaze, the vendor pulled out a familiar clamshell flip phone.
William finally realized.
This guy was a colleague.