The city's air was cold, restless.
The MC moved quickly through the side streets, head down, blending into the crowd of wanderers. His clothes were torn, his breath ragged, but his steps never faltered. Behind him, the distant wail of sirens still echoed from the chaos he'd left behind.
A faint flicker of light pulsed in his vision.
The purple system interface shimmered across his sight — translucent and calm despite the pounding in his chest.
Mission accomplished…
Before he could even process it, the words glitched, flickered once, then vanished — replaced by nothing but faint static.
Not now, he thought.
Not here.
He kept walking, merging into the sea of faces, just another shadow moving between lights.
Fifteen minutes later, the city had grown quieter.
He'd been tailing her the whole time, it turns out that the sniper from the rooftops was a lady either that or the person was a feminine man, he sincerely hopes it is the former.
(A/N I hope to bro)
She was The one who had saved him back at the store. She walked ahead without any care for who might be watching, her movements smooth, deliberate.
At first, he thought she hadn't noticed him. But after a while, it hit him.
She wanted him to follow.
The MC kept his distance, weaving through alleys and dim-lit sidewalks, watching her reflection in every window. Her pace never changed. Every turn she took felt intentional — like breadcrumbs leading him somewhere.
Finally, she reached an empty parking lot. A black van sat waiting beneath a flickering streetlamp. She opened the driver's door and paused, glancing once over her shoulder.
The MC crouched behind the corner of a broken wall, body tense.
Then she spoke.
"Come on, let's go!"
The sound echoed faintly across the lot.
John hesitated. Was she talking to him?
She looked around once more, impatient.
"Come on, John! Get in — we need to go!"
He froze.
John.
That was his name.
The word felt strange — familiar and distant at the same time, like an echo from a life he couldn't remember.
(A/N : Finally I'm tired of calling him MC 😩)
After a few seconds, he stepped out from the shadows. Her eyes met his — calm, expectant, not afraid. Against every doubt, he walked toward the van and climbed in.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of oil and rain.
The woman — He didn't have time to admire/ investigate her features because he was keeping his guard up— she didn't notice him but gripped the steering wheel.
She didn't look at him right away. The engine growled as she pulled out of the lot.
For a while, neither spoke. The city lights blurred past outside the window, streaks of color against the dark.
Finally, She said, "John, Why is everyone trying to kill you?"
No answer.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "You don't look like the kind of guy who starts shootouts in convenience stores."
John stayed quiet, eyes fixed on the passing lights.
The silence stretched. Her frustration began to show.
"Unbelievable. I save your life, and you can't even thank me?"
John's voice was low, steady. "I didn't need help. I could've handled it."
Janet blinked, stunned in disbelief "Are you kidding me."
He didn't respond.
She gripped the wheel tighter, shaking her then started pouting. For a moment, neither spoke. Only the hum of the road filled the air.
Then, so quietly she almost missed it, he said:
"…Thanks."
She looked at him, surprise softening her expression. Then a small smile tugged at her lips.
She didn't reply — just faced forward again.
The van rolled through the night, vanishing into the glow of the city beyond.
When John opened his eyes again, it was night.
He was sitting on a small bed in a dimly lit room — concrete walls, steel door, faint hum of machinery. A single light hung overhead, casting long shadows across the floor.
His shirt was gone, replaced by a few layers of bandages across his ribs. The pain had dulled, replaced by a deep ache that sat heavy in his body.
Across the room stood The woman from earlier, arms folded, watching him.
"The medic says you'll live," she said. "Bruised ribs, small fracture in your arm. Nothing permanent, looking at everything you've gone through today I don't even know how you are still alive"
John nodded slightly ignoring her last comment, testing his breathing. It still hurt.
"You should rest," she added, glancing toward the door. "I've got something to take care of. I'll be back tomorrow."
He didn't answer at first. But as she reached for the door, he said quietly,
.
.
"Thanks, Janet."
She stopped, this was the second time he thanked her today, although she doesn't know what happens today, but she likes it.
A smile flickered across her face, brief but genuine. Without turning around, she said,
"Get some sleep, John."
Then she was gone.
The door clicked shut, leaving him alone in the soft hum of the room.
For a while, John just sat there, staring at nothing. His mind kept replaying the chaos — the store, the gunfire, the stranger who somehow knew his name.
Finally, he exhaled and whispered,
"System."
The purple interface reappeared, glowing faintly in front of him.
Mission complete.
Congratulations.
You Eliminated most of your pursuers
Reward X2
Hit Template Progress: 5%.
Another line appeared.
Synchronization pending. Proceed?
A warning flashed underneath:
Caution: You must be in a secure state before synchronization begins.
John glanced around the quiet room.
No sound. No Just the faint buzz of the light above him.
He leaned back against the pillow. His eyelids grew heavy.
.
.
.
.
"Sync it!"
=========================
Meanwhile elsewhere
A figure sat alone in a dark room, face hidden by shadow. The soft glow of a holo-screen played across the walls — news headlines scrolling about the "convenience store shootout."
The figure lifted a glass of whiskey, ice clinking faintly.