The night pressed in with a suffocating stillness, thick enough that Adrian almost felt it peel against his skin as he pushed open the apartment door. The hallway behind him was quiet, too quiet for a district that never truly slept. Meridian City roared during the day, hummed during the evenings, and rumbled with secrets at night—but tonight, everything seemed to be holding its breath.
And that was the first sign something was wrong.
He stepped inside without turning on the lights. Silence greeted him, but his instincts were tuned razor-sharp now. After the Crimson Fang ambush, after the bodies that fell around him and the blood that refused to leave his hands no matter how much he washed them, Adrian had already accepted one fact:
Someone wanted him dead.
And they wanted it done cleanly.
His foot paused before the living room threshold. A faint metallic scent drifted through the air. Not blood. Ink.
His eyes narrowed.
He reached for the switch—then stopped. His muscles shifted, his stance adjusting as he whispered under his breath:
"System… heightened perception."
A pulse answered in his mind, cold and clinical.
[Temporary Buff: Sensory Boost Lv.1 — Active]
The darkness sharpened. The room's outline became clearer, shapes settling into place. And there it was, lying neatly on the center table:
A single envelope.
Black paper. Silver crest. Unmarked.
His pulse didn't spike. He had trained himself to remain calm, even long before the Eternal Villain System entered his life. But something inside him twisted painfully—a reminder that every step forward dragged him deeper into a game he wasn't sure he chose willingly.
He approached slowly, every movement precise, controlled. The envelope sat like a quiet threat, humming with intent even though it was silent and motionless.
He lifted it.
For a moment, nothing.
Then—
"You should be more careful, Adrian."
The voice wasn't in the room. It was in his memory.
The last Crimson Fang assassin he interrogated whispered that same warning with his dying breath. And now this message—left inside his locked apartment without any signs of forced entry—was the second reminder that the city was shifting around him.
He opened the envelope.
One card.
One sentence.
"To hunt a shadow, you must first step into the light."
His grip tightened.
Whoever left this knew him. Not just his current identity, not just the façade of Adrian Vale… but the fragments of his past life, the way he thought, the way he strategized. This wasn't a threat.
It was an invitation.
A challenge.
A trap.
Before he could react, his System chimed softly.
[New Hidden Objective Detected]
[Investigate: The Whispering Caller]
Difficulty: Unknown
Warning: Target possesses significant influence in Meridian City]
He exhaled through his nose.
Perfect.
As if he didn't have enough problems.
Already—
Assassins.
Sabotage.
A surveillance net closing around him.
Elena acting strangely distant yet painfully close, watching him with eyes that held too many secrets.
Adrian dropped onto the couch. The card felt heavier than paper, heavier than ink. More like a ticking clock.
Someone was probing.
Someone was trying to force his hand.
And the worst part?
They were doing it well.
He leaned back, rubbing the tension from his temples. His body had been scraped raw by the ambush earlier, his shoulder still throbbing where the blade grazed him. He hadn't even been able to treat it properly.
"System," he muttered, "status."
The response projected across his vision:
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
NAME: Adrian Vale
LEVEL: 6
RANK: F+
HEALTH: 87%
ENERGY: 60%
STR: 12
AGI: 13
INT: 19
WILL: 17
CHARM: 14
LUCK: –
SPECIAL TRAIT: [Villain's Insight Lv.1]
HIDDEN TAG: Heir Candidate — GLITCHED
VILLAIN POINTS: 74
SYSTEM NOTES: Behavioral patterns evolving. Adaptive progression active.
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
He stared at the interface for a long moment.
Everything was rising slower than he wanted—slower than he needed.
And that hidden tag… it flickered every time he focused on it.
Because he wasn't supposed to know.
Not yet.
And whoever left the card in his apartment probably knew that, too.
He dropped his hand, exhausted. His vision traced the ceiling, the cracks that weren't cracks but illusions created by the flickering street light outside. He needed to rest. Just for a moment.
He shut his eyes—
—and instantly felt danger.
A whisper.
A shift of air.
A presence behind him.
He didn't hesitate.
He rolled off the couch, landing low and silent as a blade sliced through where his throat had been.
A figure stood in the darkness.
Tall.
Hooded.
Silent.
The knife glinted as moonlight slid across its curve.
Adrian's expression didn't waver.
"Another Crimson Fang?" he asked, voice steady.
The figure didn't reply. But Adrian felt the intent. This wasn't clumsy or desperate. This was calculated. Controlled. Professional.
Someone had sent a message.
Now someone sent a messenger.
The assassin lunged.
Adrian dodged by a hair. The blade tore through the fabric of his shirt, grazing his ribs. Pain flared but sharpened his focus.
He grabbed a glass shard from the table, shattered earlier by the force of his dodge, and slashed upward. The assassin jerked back, but not fast enough—Adrian tore through the mask, revealing a pair of obsidian eyes.
The assassin spoke for the first time, voice low and distorted:
"Someone like you… shouldn't exist."
Adrian's lips curled.
"Funny. I was about to say the same about you."
He lunged.
This time he was the one pressing forward, his movements precise and vicious, guided by instinct and the System's subtle support. The fight was brutal, silent, fast—two shadows clashing in a dark apartment, neither willing to give an inch.
Finally—
Adrian drove the glass shard into the assassin's shoulder.
A muffled grunt.
A stumble back.
Adrian didn't waste the opportunity. He punched the assassin hard across the jaw, then kicked their leg out, bringing them crashing to the floor.
The knife clattered away.
Adrian pinned them with his knee, eyes burning.
"Who sent you?"
Silence.
Then the assassin laughed.
Not mocking.
Resigned.
"You're already in the web," they whispered. "By the time you realize whose territory you've trespassed into… you'll be drowning."
The assassin crushed something in their hand—
A small bead.
Smoke exploded upward.
Adrian recoiled instinctively, covering his mouth, but the assassin used the moment to roll, kick, and slip out through the broken balcony door. Their footsteps faded into the night before Adrian could pursue.
He coughed, glaring at the empty doorway.
Coward.
But the message was clear.
There was more going on in Meridian City than he thought.
Something bigger.
Something tied to him… or to the him he didn't know he was yet.
Adrian steadied his breathing. His apartment was trashed, his body bruised, his enemy invisible.
And through it all, the card on the table remained perfectly placed.
Mocking him.
He sat down again, slower this time. His wounds throbbed, but he didn't care. His chest burned—not with fear, but with cold, precise anger.
Someone thought they could take him lightly.
Someone thought they could control him.
Someone thought they could push him.
And they were about to learn the first rule of crossing Adrian Vale:
If you stab a villain and miss the heart—
you'd better run faster than death.
The System chimed softly.
[New Side Quest Unlocked]
Hunt the Messenger
Reward: Reputation Shift – Fear Index +3 | Hidden Trait Progression
Adrian leaned back, letting the darkness settle around him like a second skin.
He smiled—slow, sharp, dangerous.
"Perfect," he whispered. "Let's begin."