1 Glitch in the Matrix
(A/N: Hey guys author here, so the first 4 chapters can be a little bit confusing or lack something but I promised that if you stick to it you will like it because as of chapter 5 I got an editor & proofreader who have experience in writing helping me with the way and flow of the story. So I hope you stay and enjoy the story! Kudos for the support!)
He heard the rattling clattering of his keyboard echoing into the sterile silence back at him, from the depths of his cubicle. Endless lines of code scrolled across his monitor like the language worn into the grooves on his favorite John Wick action figures. His life was definitely not as action-packed as his plastic superheroes. Adam had always been living a life—so predictable, like that scripted and preassembled. He could only have his own life of action, a world where shadows held secrets and every decision sometimes meant your life.
The lights of the city dissolved into long streaks of neon smear by evening outside his window. Then a pop-up: "System Update Available." Unwarranted curiosity sparked. He clicked "Install," the progress bar moving at the same-as-always snail's pace—a metaphor for his entire career trajectory.
Suddenly, the screen flickered, lines of code warping into a jumble he could not read. Panic licked up around him as the familiar dull hum of the office melted into a white-noise chorus of static and garbled voices. His heart pounded in wild rhythm against his ribs as the world swam giddily, swirling into a rather insane whirl of light and sound.
He landed with a gasp on a cobblestone street slick with rain. He clambered to his feet, disoriented. The miasma of wet stone and exhaust filled his nostrils. The city lay out before him: towering steel and neon, a maze uncannily alike yet undeniably foreign to his own.
Neon signs advertised all sorts of establishments in a variety of multi-colored lights, but one of them was there to send shivers down his spine, caressing its back. "The Continental Hotel." It was no dream. It wasn't. Beyond his reach, it seemed that from the air issued a faint blue light. He felt around the air with his fingers, coming into contact with a cool, shimmering surface. It was not a piece of physical matter; it was rather a projected interface. In the center, a skull icon superimposed over crossed daggers pulsed with a soft blue glow.
He hesitated and looked at the icon; in front of him, a semitransparent screen appeared. In it, information written in a tough, minimal font scrolled:
STATUS
Name: Adam (Last Name Unavailable)
Health: 100%
Stamina: 80%
Evaluation: Civillian
Skills: None
Quests: None
Inventory:
• Newbie Package (Opened)
‣ Worn Black Suit
‣ Simple Black Shoes
‣ Basic Training Manual (Hand-to-Hand Combat)
‣ Folding Knife
‣ 1 Continental Coin
‣ Starting Funds (Local Currency)
All the emotional waves hit him—unbelief, terror, and a flicker of excitement. This was no dream. This was the real world. It was the non-sentient entity—the System—who had brought him here to this world of assassins, where John Wick was a legend and, better said, never a mythic hero.
He analyzed the meager provisions the System had bestowed upon him – the Newbie Package. The worn black suit, surprisingly well-maintained, offered a semblance of professionalism, a way to blend in with the shadows. Simple black shoes provided practicality, but lacked the tactical advantages of John Wick's custom footwear.
The Basic Training Manual (Hand-to-Hand Combat) was a treasure trove in disguise. Knowledge was power, and this book held the key to immediate survival. It might not be fancy guns and gadgets, but mastering hand-to-hand combat could be the difference between life and death in a close-quarters fight.
The folding knife felt light and flimsy in his hand. It wasn't the high-tech weaponry he'd fantasized about, but it was a weapon nonetheless. In the right hands, even a simple blade could be deadly.
The Continental Coin, a single gleaming token, was an enigma. Its purpose remained unclear, but the name sent shivers down his spine. Could it hold the key to entering the legendary Continental Hotel, a haven for assassins?
Finally, the Starting Funds (Local Currency) – a modest sum that gleamed with the promise of a meal, maybe even a cheap hostel for the night. It wasn't a fortune, but it was enough for a fresh start in this strange new world.
While the Newbie Package lacked the glamour of John Wick's arsenal, it provided the essentials for survival. Adam, a pragmatist at heart, recognized the value of each item. Knowledge, practicality, a potential connection to the assassin underworld, and a temporary safety net – these were the foundations upon which he would build his future in this dangerous new world. A sense of determination hardened within him. He wouldn't squander this opportunity. He would learn, adapt, and fight his way to the top.
Cracking open the manual, a surge of energy coursed through him. The knowledge within the book flooded his mind, his body instinctively absorbing the techniques of hand-to-hand combat. The System, it seemed, didn't just provide information, it facilitated the assimilation of skills.
A thrill shot through him. This wasn't just knowledge, it was power. He flipped through the remaining pages, the rudimentary combat maneuvers solidifying in his mind. Hunger gnawed at him, a hunger to learn, to practice, to become the deadliest weapon this world had ever seen.
But first, he needed to survive. This world wouldn't wait for him to get his bearings. Scanning the neon-drenched cityscape, his gaze fell upon a brightly lit diner across the street. It wasn't glamorous, but it might offer a job and a chance to blend in, to learn the lay of the land.
The greasy spoon diner smelled of burnt coffee and yesterday's fries. Adam pushed through the swinging door, the bell jangling a tired melody. A woman with tired eyes and a permanent frown behind a faded red nametag barked, "Booth or counter?"
"Booth, please," Adam replied, his voice slightly hoarse from the ordeal. He slid into a worn red vinyl booth, the springs protesting with a groan.
Taking a deep breath, he scanned the menu, a laminated sheet adorned with blurry pictures of questionable food items. Prices were surprisingly cheap, a silver lining in this unsettling situation. He settled on a greasy cheeseburger and a lukewarm coffee, hoping it would be enough to fuel his exploration later.
As he waited for his meal, Adam discreetly activated the System interface. He focused on the skull and dagger icon, and the translucent screen materialized. The "Inventory" section displayed the contents he'd gleaned from the Newbie Package: the black suit, simple shoes, training manual, folding knife, Continental Coin, and the ever-present "Starting Funds". The amount wasn't vast, but it pulsed with a faint blue glow, a small beacon of hope in this strange new world.
He finished his lukewarm coffee, the bitterness lingering on his tongue. With a sigh, he dismissed the notification that had popped up earlier explaining the starting funds. He'd already explored the inventory and discovered the modest sum – a lifeline in this strange new world. With a forced smile, he thanked the waitress. While he still had much to figure out, this starting cash provided a much-needed buffer.
Stepping back onto the neon-soaked street, Adam felt a mixture of apprehension and determination. This world was far grittier than the John Wick movies he'd binged countless times. But he had a starting point – survival. Tonight, he needed a place to stay and a way to earn some real money.
He wandered through the labyrinthine streets, the towering buildings casting long shadows. Every flickering neon sign seemed to whisper secrets, every dark alleyway held the potential for danger or opportunity. He desperately needed information.
As he roamed the streets, a lone single flickering sign called his attention, almost as if beckoning him to promises untold and secrets kept from the lost souls of this concrete jungle. Adam, suddenly on the brink of an epiphany, seemed to recall a certain event from a past long forgotten, a pawnshop on a corner street from his favorite movie. Maybe it's indeed a sign, maybe it's fate or maybe it's just sheer dumb luck but he will be dammed if he doesn't take the chance.
"Who knows , maybe sheer dumb luck might be my special skill." *chuckle*
Pushing open the creaky door, a bell chimed above him. A man with a shaved head and a missing tooth grunted in greeting from behind a cluttered counter. The rest of the night unfolded with a series of unexpected turns, leading Adam further into the underbelly of this assassin-infested city.
