[Ding! Initiate 'Plunder' on 'Butcher Gang' members?]
"Plunder all of them!"
[Plunder successful! Obtained: $1,235 cash, "Cleaver Technique (Novice)" x3, "Proper Steel Pipe Usage (Basic)" x2, Intel: 'Butcher Gang Hideout Location' x1...]
The cascade of notifications lifted Cloud's spirits.
He stripped them of every dollar, then tied their shoelaces together and hung them from a streetlight at the alley entrance like a string of grasshoppers. Beside them, he wrote in chalk:
"Robbery carries risks. Enter the profession with caution. —Your friendly neighborhood Brick Vigilante."
Task complete, Cloud dusted off his hands and vanished into the night.
Over the next twenty-plus hours, Cloud fully transformed into a hunter of the shadows.
Using the serum's incredible power, he specifically targeted notorious gangs.
From the Scorpion Gang's drug deals to the Iron Fist Society's underground casino—everywhere he went, chaos followed.
His methods were ruthless, but he had his own code: only rob criminals, never harm innocents.
He plundered their money, weapons, and fighting skills. Through his memory-extraction plundering, he even gathered massive amounts of intel on South Town's underworld.
His strength grew rapidly through constant combat. The various fighting techniques he'd plundered fused together into his own style—vicious, efficient, uniquely his.
No one knew what he looked like. They only knew he appeared and disappeared like a ghost, possessed terrifying strength, specialized in robbing other criminals, and his methods were extremely brutal. Every gang he targeted met a miserable end.
Because he always used bricks to finish his targets, a new codename—one that struck fear into hearts—began spreading through South Town's underworld:
"The Brick Vigilante!"
Before the Super Soldier Serum's 24-hour countdown expired, Cloud's haul was spectacular.
Like an efficient jungler, he'd cleared the "jungle camps" of over a dozen gangs across South Town's slums.
His Source Point balance rocketed past 5,000.
Those previously unattainable items in the System Shop? He could now afford at least a "component" or two.
And his reputation—or rather, his infamy—spread like wildfire through the underworld.
"Did you hear? The Brick Vigilante struck again!"
"Who got hit this time?"
"The Mad Dog Gang! Their entire crew—over thirty guys—got strung up from the chandeliers in their own bar! Even their underwear was taken! Heard it was quite the artistic installation!"
"Damn... that's cold. Doesn't even spare the underwear? The guy's a cancer on our industry, ruining all our professional standards!"
Cloud merely smiled at these rumors.
Rules? In South Town, whoever had the biggest fists made the rules.
However, his "scorched earth" approach had finally stirred up a hornet's nest.
He hadn't just been stealing from small-time gangs—he'd touched the interests of this city's true master.
...
Geese Tower, Top Floor Office.
This tallest building in South Town stood like a black blade piercing the night sky.
Its owner, Geese Howard, stood with his back to the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing down at the city lights below like a river of stars.
He wore an immaculate traditional Japanese robe, his golden hair combed back without a strand out of place. His entire being radiated the absolute confidence and pressure of a supreme ruler.
Before him, a man in blue work clothes and a red bandana knelt on one knee, respectfully delivering his report. He toyed with a three-section staff in his hands.
This was Billy Kane—Geese's most loyal "mad dog" and strongest enforcer.
"Mr. Geese, a guy calling himself the 'Brick Vigilante' has appeared in the southern slums recently. Specializes in robbing other criminals. Brutal methods."
"Seven gangs that pay us protection money have already been taken down by him. Single-handedly." Billy's tone was calm, but a glint of violence flickered in his eyes.
"Oh? Brick Vigilante?" Geese slowly turned, a hint of interest on his face. "One person?"
"Yes. According to survivors, he's extremely strong—speed and power far beyond normal humans. Moves unpredictably. Wears a black stocking over his head. No one's seen his real face."
Geese walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of red wine. He swirled it gently, the crimson liquid spinning like flowing blood.
"This little pond called South Town occasionally produces some lively little eels. Not bad, actually. But... since he's been eating my fish, he'll need to spit out the bones." Geese took a sip. "Billy, you know what to do."
"Understood." Billy lowered his head, a cruel smile curving his lips.
"I'll send people to 'clean up.' Get rid of this rule-breaking eel. I guarantee... it'll be spotless."
"Go." Geese waved dismissively, returning his gaze to his empire outside the window.
To him, this was a trivial matter.
A slightly stronger ant wasn't worth his personal attention.
...
"Sage Mode"—better late than never.
When the Super Soldier Serum's 24-hour trial card expired, that tsunami of power receded just as quickly as it had come.
Cloud felt like he'd pulled seven consecutive all-nighters, then run a marathon.
Every part of him—from his soul to the spaces between his toes—radiated one word: empty.
[Warning: Host has entered 'Sage Mode.' All attributes reduced by 50% for 72 hours. Please rest, avoid strenuous activity, and drink plenty of fluids.]
"Son of a..." Cloud lay sprawled on his bed, unable to lift even a finger.
With his current stats, forget fighting geese—he probably couldn't beat a chicken.
Was this the price of whaling?
Indeed, every gift fate bestows has already been secretly price-tagged.
But trouble doesn't care if you're weak.
BANG BANG BANG!
Aggressive pounding on the door jolted the half-asleep Cloud awake.
"Who is it?" Cloud asked weakly.
A gruff voice came from outside: "Water meter inspection!"
Cloud: "..."
Great, this cliché had made it to the KOF world too?
This dump didn't even have running water. What meter was there to inspect?
He immediately realized—enemies had found him.
Forcing his depleted body to move, he crept to the window and lifted a corner of the curtain.
Below, seven or eight thugs armed with clubs and cleavers had surrounded his shabby apartment building.