Chapter 9

Sister Margaret's Bar.

Wade had left to prepare for the next step, leaving only Noah Clover and Weasel behind.

"You want to be a mercenary?" Weasel asked.

"Yes, I need the money," Noah replied with a nod.

Wade had already explained Weasel's role to Noah. Weasel was a broker and an information dealer. While running the mercenary bar, he offered mercenaries various jobs at reasonable rates and took a cut of the commission. In simple terms, Weasel was like an NPC that handed out tasks.

If you had enough cash, you could also buy some illicit items from him—firearms, for example. Or, more importantly for Noah, forged identities.

Noah needed money, and more importantly, he needed a legal identity. Weasel seemed like the perfect person to help.

Weasel studied Noah for a moment before saying, "Alright, for Wade's sake."

With that, he pulled out a stack of gold and black cards from behind the bar.

"Now, you might've heard a bit about this from Wade, but I'll still go over the rules. We offer two types of jobs here: gold card and black card."

Weasel picked up a gold card and continued, "Gold cards are the easier ones. The upside is you don't have to take on too much risk, but the downside is that the payouts are lower."

"What about the black card?" Noah asked.

"That one's a bit trickier," Weasel said, swapping to a black card. "Black card jobs are usually tougher. The good news is the rewards are much higher. The harder the job, the bigger the payoff."

He paused, then added, "But let me be clear: once you take on a black card job, you're on your own. You can handle it however you want, but you'll be responsible for the consequences. Even if you're a friend of Wade's, I'm not taking the heat for anything. I'm just a broker, you understand?"

"Yeah, I get it," Noah nodded.

"I hope you really do."

Weasel shrugged, then placed all the cards in front of Noah without saying another word.

Noah Clover flipped through the cards casually.

Each card had the target's name printed on the front, while the back contained details about the task, including the target, the commission, and the reward.

In the stack of gold cards that Weasel handed him, most of the payments ranged from 50 to 200 USD. Just as Weasel had said, these were low-risk jobs—things like confronting a cheating spouse or scaring off a stalker. They were tasks that rarely involved anything lethal.

The black cards, however, told a much darker story.

"Kill a member of the Russian Ross gang, Jeff Mond, for one thousand USD."

"Surveillance of Blood Wolf Gang member, Warner Hewlett, for five thousand USD."

"Kidnap the daughter of a wealthy businessman, Ashley Suzanne, for one hundred thousand USD."

...

The black card jobs involved dangerous targets, and most required unsavory methods—deeds that couldn't stand the light of day.

This was practically an invitation to become an outlaw—a job for someone willing to live outside the law.

Noah couldn't bring himself to look at the cards for long. He wasn't interested in becoming a full-fledged mercenary. He just wanted to make some quick money and secure legal identification, not get tangled up in gangland warfare. He was an ordinary guy without an identity, and going up against criminal organizations seemed like a fast way to make enemies he couldn't afford.

Weasel seemed to read Noah's thoughts and smirked. "What? Getting cold feet?"

Noah responded calmly, "I've never been one for shady dealings. As for these gang-related commissions, they haven't wronged me. Why would I go looking for trouble?"

Just as he finished speaking, a familiar panel suddenly appeared in front of him.

[Title Triggered!]

[Bounty Objective - Eligible for Completion]

[Unlock Condition: Kill fifteen notorious criminals (0/15)]

[Rewarded Title: Super High School Level Sharpshooter]

New missions?

The sudden notification caught Noah's attention. After two months, he had finally triggered another title unlocking task.

"Kill fifteen villains guilty of serious crimes?"

Noah read the conditions, deep in thought.

Meanwhile, Weasel, still chuckling, started to put the black cards away. "You're smart. The rewards for these black card jobs aren't easy to earn. Once you offend those gangsters, they'll come after you like a pack of rabid dogs and tear you apart..."

Smack!

Noah slammed his hand down on the black cards. "I'll take those gangster commissions!"

Weasel stared at him, bewildered.

Why the sudden change of heart? Just moments ago, Noah seemed like he wanted nothing to do with trouble.

"Wait a minute, didn't you say you didn't want to stir things up?" Weasel asked, baffled.

Noah, with a solemn and righteous look, replied, "It's not about the money. It's about fighting crime. I can't stand these gangs running around unchecked."

Weasel: "..."

Before you say something like that, maybe put down the soda you're drinking first.

Noah Clover left Sister Margaret's Bar, walking through the alley while absentmindedly playing with the black card in his hand.

One thousand USD for killing Jeff Mond, a member of the Russian Ross gang.

It was the first black card he had seen, and among the pile, it was considered relatively low-level.

It wasn't that Noah didn't want to take on a higher-level black card commission; the issue was that before accepting any job, he needed to pay a deposit of 10% of the commission fee. And, of course, Noah didn't have that kind of money. Fortunately, Weasel had covered the deposit for him, at least temporarily.

After accepting the commission, Weasel had provided Noah with some information about the target—basic details like a few locations Jeff Mond was known to frequent. The problem was, those places were a bit far from here.

And Noah, unfamiliar with the city, had no idea which direction to go. Normally, taking a taxi would've been the best option, but since he didn't even have a penny in his pocket, paying for a cab wasn't exactly on the table.

"Hey, Asian guy!"

Before Noah could make it out of the alley, two young Black men suddenly blocked his path. One of them, sporting a wide grin and flashing two golden front teeth, sneered. "Hand over your money and phone..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Noah suddenly kicked him hard between the legs.

The gold-toothed guy's eyes bulged wide, his eyeballs practically popping out of their sockets. He dropped to the ground, legs splayed, his expression frozen in a daze as a low, unconscious whine escaped his lips.

The other man, with dreadlocks, was stunned. He had seen people resist during a robbery before, but never this quickly or directly.

Realizing what had just happened, dreadlocks guy instinctively covered his crotch in fear. But it didn't matter—Noah's next punch landed straight on his face, knocking him down to the ground in one swift motion.

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