Time seemed to freeze as the blue notification glowed before Arthur’s eyes.
One hundred attribute points.
For a low-ranking CIA guard, that was the equivalent of winning the genetic lottery.
He didn’t hesitate. With a quick thought, he accessed the panel of the [100x Multiplication System]. He knew Hanna wouldn’t remain in that cell for long. In the story he knew, the girl would fake a faint, kill the medical team, and escape in a bloody rampage.
Chaos was about to begin, and he needed to be ready.
[Attribute Point Allocation Complete]
Strength: E (10) ➔ C+ (35)
Agility: E- (8) ➔ B- (48) (Minor Superhuman Reaction Speed)
Vitality: E (10) ➔ C (30)
Perception: E+ (12) ➔ C+ (37)
Intelligence: D- (15) ➔ D- (15) (No Change)
[Remaining Points: 0]
The moment he confirmed it, Arthur felt as if he had swallowed fire.
His muscles contracted painfully for a fraction of a second, tearing themselves apart and rebuilding denser and stronger. His vision became incredibly sharp. He could now see the pores on the face of the guard beside him and hear the faint electrical hum of the security camera overhead.
The weight of the assault rifle in his hands suddenly felt like a plastic toy.
He had gone from being a below-average human to the level of an elite special forces operative. His agility, in particular, was now bordering on the superhuman.
Inside the glass cell, the door hissed open.
A doctor, accompanied by two armed guards, entered to draw blood from Hanna.
Marissa Wiegler watched everything from the monitor in the upper control room, arms crossed, wearing a cold smile of victory.
Now, Arthur thought.
Hanna, who appeared sedated, suddenly opened her eyes.
In one fluid, lethal movement that seemed to defy physics, she broke free, grabbed the doctor’s arm, and with a sickening crack, used his momentum to snap his neck.
In less than a second, she kicked one guard’s weapon away and drove a syringe into the other guard’s neck.
The alarms of Camp G screamed.
“Open fire! Kill her!” the head of security shouted over Arthur’s radio.
The three guards beside Arthur raised their rifles toward the glass, preparing to unleash a hail of bullets at the girl.
But Arthur was faster.
His [B- Agility] and [C+ Perception] transformed his colleagues’ movements into slow motion.
He drew his backup pistol, spun his body, and fired three times in perfect succession.
Puff. Puff. Puff.
The three guards collapsed before they could even pull their triggers.
[You performed a tactical takedown under extreme pressure.]
Proficiency Gained: +5.
[100x Multiplication Talent Activated!]
Proficiency Gained: +500!
[New Skill Unlocked: Firearms Mastery (Rank F)]
[Warning: Due to excessive proficiency, the skill has evolved!]
Rank F ➔ Rank D ➔ Rank C- (Elite Agent Level)
Arthur kicked open the armored glass door. It had been left unlocked.
He stepped into the cell.
Hanna was already holding the dead guard’s weapon, pointing it directly at the center of Arthur’s forehead.
Her blue eyes were two pieces of ice.
There was no gratitude in them.
Only calculation.
“I told you,” Arthur said, keeping his hands visible while maintaining a relaxed posture. “We have a common enemy. If you shoot me, you’ll alert the rest of the base to your exact position. Come with me, and I know where the ventilation shafts lead to the desert.”
Hanna didn’t lower the weapon.
Her finger pressed slightly harder against the trigger.
She was a cornered beast, and cornered beasts didn’t make friends.
“You killed your own pack,” she whispered, her rough voice filled with suspicion as she studied every microexpression on his face. “Why?”
“Because the alpha of their pack, Marissa Wiegler, wants both of us dead now.”
Arthur tossed a Level 4 access card onto the floor at her feet.
“Trust me only enough to get us out of this place. After that, you can decide whether you want to kill me.”
Hanna looked at the card, then back at him.
Arthur’s system remained silent. It couldn’t read minds or measure loyalty.
But his newly enhanced instincts noticed the change.
Her breathing had stabilized slightly.
The barrel of her weapon lowered by about two centimeters.
It was a silent agreement.
A purely transactional survival truce.
“Cameras,” she said flatly.
“Exactly. They’re already coming.”
In the control room, Marissa Wiegler was pale, leaning over the monitors.
Her eyes weren’t focused solely on the prodigy prisoner.
They were fixed on the standard-issue guard who had just eliminated his own squad with terrifying efficiency.
“Who the hell is that?” Marissa hissed, fury distorting her normally composed expression. “Is he an infiltrator? A traitor? I want both of them dead! Lock down Sector Four!”
In the corridor, the armored doors began descending.
A six-man CIA tactical squad, heavily armed, turned the corner.
Arthur didn’t retreat.
Feeling power surging through his veins, he advanced.
Hanna moved along his right flank, fast as a shadow.
Arthur slid across the concrete floor, raising his weapon.
With [Firearms Mastery Rank C-], his aim seemed guided by a visceral instinct.
He fired short, controlled bursts, dropping three agents within seconds, hitting gaps in their body armor.
Hanna used Arthur’s covering fire to leap against the wall, landing on one of the agents and breaking his arm before using the man’s weapon against the final two.
When the smoke cleared, all six CIA elite agents were on the ground.
Hanna looked at Arthur.
For the first time, a tiny, almost imperceptible glimmer of surprise appeared in her eyes.
He wasn’t dead weight.
He could fight almost as fast as she could.
[Close-Quarters Combat Survival detected.]
Proficiency Gained: +2.
[100x Multiplication Talent Activated!]
Proficiency Gained: +200!
[New Skill Unlocked: Military Hand-to-Hand Combat (Rank F)]
➔ Evolved to (Rank D+)
Arthur ignored the floating notification.
What really mattered was the girl’s body language.
For the first time since he had seen her, Hanna turned her back on him while checking the corridor.
She had stopped treating him as the primary threat in the room.
It was a small step.
But with a lone wolf, it was already a significant victory.
“This way,” Arthur ordered, running toward the maintenance shaft he knew would lead to the surface.
Hanna followed close behind, covering the rear.
Above them, Arthur kicked the metal grate covering the ventilation shaft. It gave way.
Cold, cutting desert air rushed into the tunnel, carrying with it the scent of freedom.
And for Arthur, the taste of the real hunt had only just begun.