April 14th, 1865 (2)

"John Wilkes Booth."

Arthur's breath caught in his throat as Booth passed him by without a second glance, heading toward the theatre's private entrance.

The man was focused, and determined, and Arthur knew exactly where he was going.

"You're about to make history," Arthur thought darkly, watching as Booth disappeared into the crowd.

Arthur didn't waste any more time. He slipped out the side door and into the night, the documents safely tucked away in his jacket.

The mission wasn't over yet—he still had to make it to the extraction point—but for now, he had what he came for.

He could have ambushed him and killed him, but that wasn't his business. 

Arthur moved swiftly through the dimly lit streets of Washington, D.C., the weight of the documents pressing against his chest.

The night was quiet, almost too quiet, and it made him uneasy.

He knew better than to assume everything would go smoothly after what had happened inside Ford's Theatre.

As he turned down an alley leading to the extraction point, his instincts flared. He wasn't alone.

Before he could react, a shadow emerged from the darkness, and a man lunged at him, a glint of steel flashing in the dim light.

Arthur's body reacted on pure instinct, but something felt different. His movements were faster—sharper.

He sidestepped the attack with surprising ease, the assassin's blade swiping through the air where Arthur had stood just a split second before.

His breath caught in his throat as he realized the assassin's speed felt... slow. Too slow.

"What the hell?" Arthur thought his heart racing, but not with fear. The last time he'd faced danger like this, he'd barely escaped with his life, but now? Now it felt like his body was operating on a different level.

The assassin, a skilled and deadly figure cloaked in black, seemed to hesitate for just a moment, as if he too realized something was off.

His cold eyes narrowed, and he lunged again, his blade aimed directly at Arthur's chest.

But Arthur was ready.

This time, he didn't just dodge—he moved with precision, almost as if he were seeing the attack unfold before it happened.

His body reacted naturally, faster than his mind could process. He ducked low, pivoted, and in one fluid motion, swept his leg out, catching the assassin's ankle and sending him stumbling to the ground.

Arthur's heart pounded, not from the fight itself but from the realization that he was stronger, faster than before.

His body felt lighter, and more agile, as if the system had enhanced him somehow.

The assassin's movements, once lethal, now seemed sluggish in comparison.

The assassin scrambled to his feet, his eyes flashing with frustration. He charged again, his knife gleaming under the faint moonlight, but Arthur saw it coming.

With speed he hadn't known he possessed, Arthur sidestepped the blow, catching the assassin's wrist and twisting it sharply. The knife clattered to the ground.

The assassin's eyes widened in shock as Arthur twisted harder, forcing him to his knees. He hadn't expected Arthur to be this strong, this fast.

Neither had Arthur.

For a moment, the two locked eyes. The assassin, gritting his teeth, struggled against Arthur's grip, but there was no breaking free. Arthur had the upper hand, and he knew it.

The cold realization of his newfound power settled into Arthur's mind as he looked down at the man.

He had been hunted, but now, he was the predator. Without a word, Arthur twisted the man's arm harder, a sharp crack echoing through the alley as the assassin let out a grunt of pain.

Arthur tossed him to the ground, the assassin groaning in agony as he clutched his broken arm.

He wasn't a threat anymore. Arthur didn't linger. The fight was over, and he had no interest in finishing it.

Lingering in the area only increases his chances of failure, and the assassin will die anyway.

He turned and walked away, leaving the assassin writhing in pain on the cobblestone street. His mind buzzed with the revelation of his enhanced abilities.

"The skills have made me much stronger... faster," Arthur thought, a mixture of surprise and excitement flooding his senses.

He wasn't the same person who had barely escaped his last mission.

Arthur still had the mission to complete, and the extraction point was close. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, the documents safely tucked inside and disappeared into the night, his heart steady and his mind clear.

Arthur moved swiftly, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins as he left the alley behind.

The encounter with the assassin replayed in his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling of how different his body had reacted—faster, more precise.

The system had made him stronger, more capable than he'd ever been before.

He felt it in the way he dodged the attacks, the way the assassin seemed to move in slow motion while he remained sharp and focused. This wasn't just luck; it was something more.

His breath formed faint clouds in the cool night air as he continued toward the extraction point.

He kept his senses sharp, scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. The streets were quieter now, the energy of the city having died down.

Arthur had what he came for—the documents that could shatter the truth of history.