After finishing my meal, I left a few dollars on the table and left the cafe. Calmly, without rushing, I got behind the wheel of my Honda and headed toward Hell's Kitchen. The black Land Cruiser pulled away smoothly behind me.
Despite the problem of the fucking superhumans hunting me, I wasn't exactly an easy target. I had a number of asymmetrical advantages. The System. My supercharged intellect. And the fact that they didn't know the address of my new home. However, I felt that last advantage was temporary. Once I dealt with these bloodsuckers, I'd have to seriously think about how to move on.
"Khaaaa..." I breathed out in irritation. My short vacation in this world was over before it had even begun. I hadn't even reached the level of power and security I'd dreamed of. So what did that mean? I'd have to urgently push my development, risking attracting even more unwanted attention. "It's just fucked up. Why couldn't you just stay home, you damned devils," I muttered angrily into the void, keeping my eyes on the road.
Glancing periodically in the rearview mirror, I noticed that the Land Cruiser was keeping a steady pace, maintaining a distance of seven to ten cars. They were professional enough not to get too close, but not professional enough to remain unnoticed. I was leading them. Leading them into my pre-selected territory.
Here it is. The familiar abandoned place where I studied the ores from my miracle box. A five-story, time-worn building on the outskirts. On one side, a high concrete fence creates a natural corridor. No cameras, no random passersby. And the best part is the pitted, uneven ground in front of the entrance. Only a suicidal person would dare drive through it. The perfect place for my adventure.
I turned into that same small alleyway, squeezed between the wall of a building and a fence—a virtual dead end. I turned off the engine. And then, without getting out of the car, I put the first part of my plan into action. With a mental effort, I placed my Honda in my Inventory. For a split second, I felt the disorienting sensation of falling before my feet touched the ground.
Wasting no time, I slipped into the dark doorway of the abandoned building and hid, turning into a shadow. Now I was bait in my own trap. All that remained was to wait. They had to, they simply had to, come here. And the space here was tight. As soon as I stepped out of the doorway, I'd be within arm's reach of their car. But for now—silence. Keep your head down. Don't give yourself away prematurely. Guided only by sound.
I didn't have to wait long. Literally six minutes later, according to my internal chronometer, the silence was broken by the rumble of a powerful engine. The sound of tires scraping over gravel and earth grew louder. They were close. A moment later, a massive black SUV slowly pulled into the dead end, swaying over the bumps.
They stopped where my car had been just a second ago. I saw their silhouettes through the cracks in the wall and the play of shadows. They were probably confused. The target had disappeared. What if they were all wearing a thick layer of sunscreen, prepared for such a situation?
There was no time to give them time to think. There was no time to wait for them to turn off the engine or put the car in reverse.
Now.
I rushed resolutely out of the doorway. Two quick steps, and the world narrowed to a single target—the black metal side of the car. I reached forward, and the next moment my fingers touched the warm, dust-covered body. In that moment, I poured all my desperate hopes for this plan into a single mental wish.
Thousandths of a second.
The world seemed to blink. The massive black SUV, which had just filled the entire space, simply... disappeared. Vanished along with its "dead" passengers.
For several long seconds, I stood stunned, staring into the void where the two-ton death machine had just been. The air still vibrated with the sound of its engine, but the engine itself was gone.
"Too... easy," I muttered, amazed that my crazy, reckless plan, which had so many assumptions, had worked. It had worked so perfectly that even under the Potion of Intellect, I couldn't help but be amazed.
Luckily, my mind, still running on the steroids of the potion, didn't allow emotions like shock or delight to take over. Instead, it launched into a cold, dispassionate post-analysis, running simulations of failure scenarios. What if I'd been wrong?
Scenario Alpha: The targets are living people. What if there weren't Vampires in the car and the Inventory didn't fit them inside? By the time I realized my trump card had failed, I'd have roughly 0.7 to 4.3 seconds before they realized their position (outside the car) and returned fire. The only tactical solution in such a situation was to instantly change the attack vector: call their own car down on them. Cruel? Yes. Bloodthirsty? Absolutely. But it wouldn't be malice, but the cold mathematics of survival. Under the influence of the potion, I would do it without hesitation.
Scenario Beta: The System considers Vampires "alive." A philosophical paradox. I think, therefore I exist. I exist, therefore I live. Could the System view Vampires as a perverted but still life form? Absolutely. The plan of action in this case would be identical to the first. Call down the Land Cruiser on their heads and pray that the daylight flooding the dead end would play into my hands and slow their reactions.
Scenario Gamma: I'm an idiot, they're professionals. This was the worst-case scenario. What if they'd sensed a trick and gotten out of the car early? Had they reacted to my attack? Or had they simply waited for me at the exit of the abandoned building, blocking my only escape route? Here, I confess, I was banking on their carelessness. I was banking on their lack of seriousness, on their predatory self-confidence and the twisted logic I'd just touched on, using it against them. The gamble paid off. But it was a risky gamble.
I forced myself to stop this train of thought. Filling my head with the same thoughts as in that fairy tale about the falling log that nearly killed the youngest daughter was counterproductive. The first enemies had been defeated. But would I ever find out who they were, where they came from, who sent them? Not anytime soon. And that meant there could be others lurking in the shadows. I'd attracted unwanted attention, screwed up, and now I needed to make up for it. It was time to stop being an extra.
Naturally, leaving here in my car was out of the question. If I drove it home, they'd figure me out pretty quickly, and uninvited guests would probably show up that very night. Buying myself at least a few days was key for me right now. Luckily, I hadn't given my new address during the expulsion process, so now I simply climbed over the concrete wall and exited the abandoned building on the other side, like a perfectly normal guy from Hell's Kitchen. I headed toward the nearest, trusted construction site, and this trip there was radically different from the previous ones.
I no longer saved every dollar. I invested. It wasn't just pipes and wires that went into the cart. It also included a welding machine, a set of precision screwdrivers, a soldering station, an oscilloscope, advanced tool and materials kits, canisters of chemical reagents—everything that could transform an empty garage into a veritable laboratory. Several thousand dollars were gone without a second thought. Having ordered delivery to my home, I left the hardware store, heading for the subway.
Having successfully taken the subway to the nearest station from my new home and wandered around the block a bit to make sure there were no unauthorized observers, I went inside. By that time, the goods I'd purchased had just arrived and I'd stored them in the garage. My new temple, my forge, was ready for use.
The brain helpfully displayed the System's internal screen. Current balance: 200 OP.
My goal: Reach 250 OP. My primary objective: Unlock two key Arcanum blueprints for survivability in my current situation: the Muscle Stimulator and the Protective Field Generator.
I paused for a moment at the alternative development branch. "Poison"? Tempting. But the risk analysis immediately raised red flags: high OP cost, the expected difficulty of synthesizing and extracting poisonous and possibly exotic ingredients, unpredictable effects on non-humans, and the risk of accidental contamination in my makeshift lab. Rejected. Priority: survivability and direct enhancement.
Well, let's get to work. I have to create one of these two options today.