CH-6. Hiding

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But when Vladimir saw Anatoly lying on the ground, dying, his heart ached. His feet seemed to be moving on their own, wanting to rush to his brother.

The scene outside weighed heavily on him. Anatoly, his own brother, lay there motionless.

Just as they were frozen in this tense moment, the sound of a police siren echoed in the distance.

It had been ten minutes since the explosion in the apartment. The NYPD was certainly taking their time.

The blaring siren snapped Vladimir back to reality.

"Boss, the police are here. We need to leave." One of his men urged.

Vladimir nodded reluctantly, his eyes red with grief as he looked at Anatoly one last time before turning away.

"Jason!" He muttered under his breath, "I'll remember this grudge. Even if it costs me my life, I will kill you!"

Jason also heard the sirens approaching. He sensed he was running out of time and quickly shot Anatoly.

"Vladimir, are you going to abandon your brother and run away alone?"

After firing several shots, he received no response from the stairwell.

Vladimir had escaped, and Jason's plan to lure him in had failed.

With a sigh, Jason put an end to Anatoly's suffering with a final shot to the head and made his exit.

[Ding! Killed Anatoly (plot character), gained 500 villain points, current progress: 1950/2000]

Jason quickly slipped into a NIKE store nearby, changed into a pair of black sneakers from the latest collection, picked up a large backpack, stuffed his guns and ammunition inside, and put on a baseball cap before leaving through a hidden employee passage.

[Ding! Theft detected, gaining 10 villain points, current progress 1960/2000]

As Jason emerged into the dimly lit streets, the sky was already pitch black, and the police sirens were growing louder.

He pulled down the brim of his hat and hurried into an alley, disappearing into the shadows.

There were too many people and cars on the main road, and with all the surveillance cameras, he had no choice but to use the dark, grimy alleys.

But the alleys had their own risks.

"Hey, man, what's in that big black bag of yours?" A group of three young men, probably around sixteen or seventeen, stood in his way.

They had hair dyed in various colors, metal accessories jingling as they moved, and each held a knife, chewing gum with cocky grins.

Jason set his backpack down calmly, "There are lots of interesting things inside. Want a look?"

"Of course! Show us now." One of them demanded, pointing his knife.

"Don't worry, I'm getting it." Jason reached into his bag and pulled out a shotgun.

The three young men stared in disbelief.

"This here is the Benelli M4 Super 90, a semi-automatic shotgun. It can fire different calibers of shotgun shells, and one blast will leave a big hole in your chest. The recoil is light, and the sound isn't too loud. Good stuff, right?"

"Oh, shit!" The three scrambled to get away, screaming as they ran.

Watching them flee, Jason suddenly recalled his own rough childhood.

Back then, he had been just like them, hiding in filthy alleys, preying on lone passersby.

The only difference was, young Jason had carried a loaded 9mm pistol, not a flimsy knife.

How quickly the years had passed.

He stood there, lost in thought, before stowing the shotgun back in his bag. After walking three more blocks through the alleys, he finally left the dark backstreets.

Taking three different taxis to avoid being traced, Jason eventually arrived at his destination—a rental warehouse on the west side of Manhattan, near the Hudson River.

This type of self-storage facility was cheap and convenient, making it popular. In more remote areas, one could rent a 20-square-meter unit for only $80 a month. As long as the rent was paid, no one would question what was stored inside.

Jason had rented a 100-square-meter warehouse as a personal safe house, a location known to no one—not even Kingpin or Jason's closest allies.

He unlocked the rolling door and stepped inside.

The warehouse looked cluttered, filled with broken furniture—a TV, a couch, a dining table, and some convenience foods and drinking water. At a glance, it appeared like any ordinary storage unit.

Closing the shutter, Jason grabbed a flashlight from a drawer. Shuffling aside some of the piled-up furniture, he unearthed a dusty suitcase.

Inside were essentials: clothes, guns, ammunition, a driver's license, a passport, a portable medical kit, a cell phone, and $20,000 in cash.

With his line of work, Jason maintained seven safe houses like this one.

He opened the medical kit, took off his bloodstained jacket, and sat down to tend to his wounds, expertly disinfecting, stitching, and dressing them with the skill of a seasoned nurse.

____________

It was a clear morning.

Sunlight peeked through the gaps in the rolling shutter, casting dim light over the warehouse.

Jason lay asleep on an old couch, his face pale and tense, a Glock 20 pistol clutched in his hand.

[Ding! [Escape from the Russian Mafia] mission completed, reward 500 villain points, current progress 2460/2000]

[Ding! Congratulations to the host for reaching level 3 and earning 10 attribute points. Current progress: 460/3000]

Awakened by the system's notifications, Jason sprang to his feet.

Click.

His Glock was loaded and ready, aimed as he scanned the room.

False alarm.

He let out a sigh of relief, unloaded the 10mm round, and slid it back into the magazine.

Jason sat down, splashed some mineral water on his face, rinsed his mouth, checked the wound on his left arm, and sighed with relief—no infection.

After eating a quick meal of bread and water, he accessed the system screen.

Upon reaching level 3, he had been rewarded with 10 attribute points.

But how to allocate them?

Jason reviewed the system mall and noticed skills were ranked from 1 to 10. The higher the level, the more points required.

Levels 1 through 5 required 10 to 50 points, or $100,000 to $500,000 in value.

Starting from level 6, the points required rose quickly, with level 6 costing 100 points, level 7 needing 300, and level 8 needing 500, going up to 1,000 points for level 10.

Upgrading a skill from level 1 to 10 cost a total of $28.5 million.

Skills also had specific attribute requirements, classified as primary and secondary.

For example, [Firearms Mastery] prioritized Agility and Intelligence, essential for quick drawing, aiming, and shooting.

Strength, while secondary, helped manage recoil and increased shooting accuracy. Endurance was also a lesser factor, aiding prolonged shooting in intense situations.

Conversely, [Combat Mastery] focused on Strength and Endurance, as real hand-to-hand combat demanded raw power and durability.

Jason had a personal preference for hand-to-hand combat, finding satisfaction in the raw, visceral nature of it. But he knew reality was unforgiving.

In the modern world, firearms were the most efficient killing tools. For now, he decided to invest in [Firearms Mastery].

He examined the requirements for Level 6 Firearms Mastery:

[Firearms Mastery Level 6 (Not Obtained)]

[Requirements: 100 points; Strength: 35, Agility: 40, Endurance: 35, Intelligence: 40]

After careful thought, Jason allocated his points, raising his Strength and Endurance to 35 and adding the remaining 3 points to Agility. F

[Host: Jason Walter]

[Level: 3 (460/3000)]

[Strength 33 → 35]

[Agility 35 → 38]

[Endurance 30 → 35]

[Intelligence 35 → 35]

[Remaining attribute points: 0]