The knife caught the streetlight, a flash of silver that made my stomach drop.
"Wrong place, wrong time, kid," the man said. His voice was gravel and smoke, like he'd spent years practicing intimidation. He was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a black coat that looked expensive. Professional. This wasn't some random mugger—this was someone who got paid to hurt people.
I backed up until my spine hit the alley wall. Nowhere to run. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I couldn't look at it. Couldn't take my eyes off the knife.
SURVIVE. Difficulty: D-Rank. Payment: 1,000 Credits. Failure Penalty: Death.
"Look, man," I said, raising my hands. "I don't know what you want, but I already dropped off the package. I don't have it anymore."
"I know." He took another step forward. "That's the problem."
My heart hammered. "Then why are you—"
"Because you saw it. You touched it. And my employer doesn't like loose ends."
Oh. Oh no.
I was a loose end.
The man lunged.
Instinct took over. I dove sideways, hit the ground hard, rolled through something wet and disgusting. The knife scraped brick where my head had been a second ago. Sparks flew.
My phone was vibrating nonstop now, buzzing like an angry wasp. I yanked it out, screen-first, and nearly dropped it when I saw what appeared:
COMBAT MODE ACTIVATED
ANALYZING OPPONENT...
THREAT LEVEL: MODERATE
OPPONENT STRENGTH: 7/10
OPPONENT AGILITY: 6/10
VICTORY PROBABILITY: 12%
"Twelve percent?" I gasped. "That's it?"
RECOMMENDATION: UTILIZE ENVIRONMENT. TARGET WEAK POINTS. DO NOT ENGAGE DIRECTLY.
The man came at me again, faster this time. I scrambled backward, grabbing the first thing I could reach—a metal trash can lid. I swung it wildly, more panic than technique.
He blocked it with his forearm, barely flinched, and grabbed my wrist.
Pain exploded up my arm as he twisted. The lid clattered to the ground. He yanked me close, knife rising toward my ribs.
My phone screen flashed red:
CRITICAL DANGER. ACTIVATE EMERGENCY ABILITY?
I didn't think. I just screamed, "YES!"
Heat flooded my body. My vision sharpened. Time seemed to slow—not literally, but my brain was processing faster, seeing details I'd missed before. The man's stance. His weight distribution. The slight delay between his movement and the knife following.
A targeting reticle appeared over his knee, glowing red on my phone screen like some kind of augmented reality overlay.
WEAK POINT IDENTIFIED: RIGHT KNEE (PREVIOUS INJURY DETECTED)
I didn't question it. I stomped down hard on his knee with everything I had.
The sound was awful. A crunch that made my teeth hurt.
He roared, stumbling backward, and I tore free from his grip. The knife slashed across my jacket, missing skin by millimeters.
"You little—"
I ran.
Not away from the alley—deeper into it. The app was pinging directions on my screen like a GPS, showing me a route. Left. Right. Climb.
There—a fire escape ladder, the kind that hung just out of reach. I jumped, caught the bottom rung, hauled myself up with arms that burned. Below me, the man limped after, cursing, knife still in hand.
OPPONENT MOBILITY REDUCED: 40%
VICTORY PROBABILITY: 31%
Thirty-one percent. Still terrible odds, but better than twelve.
I climbed faster. The metal groaned under my weight. Second floor. Third. The man was climbing too, slower but relentless. His face was twisted in rage and pain.
At the fourth floor, my phone buzzed with a new notification:
TACTICAL OPPORTUNITY DETECTED
An image appeared on screen—a potted plant on the fire escape railing, three floors up, directly above the man's head. The app had drawn a dotted line showing trajectory and impact point.
Was it seriously suggesting I—
The man grabbed my ankle.
I kicked. He held on. Started pulling me down.
Screw it.
I climbed up one more level, grabbed the potted plant—heavier than it looked, thank God—and hurled it down.
It tumbled end over end, dirt spraying, ceramic pot spinning. The man looked up just in time for it to smash into his face.
He let go.
He fell.
Three stories down into a dumpster with a thunderous crash of metal and garbage. The sound echoed off the alley walls, impossibly loud in the night silence.
I clung to the fire escape, breathing hard, waiting for him to get back up.
He didn't move.
My phone chimed cheerfully:
MISSION COMPLETE: SURVIVE
VICTORY ACHIEVED
+1,000 CREDITS
BONUS: FIRST COMBAT VICTORY (+500 CREDITS)
TOTAL EARNED: 1,500 CREDITS
ANALYZING PERFORMANCE...
STATS UPDATED:
STRENGTH: 3 → 4
AGILITY: 4 → 5
INTELLIGENCE: 6 → 7
LUCK: 2 → 3
NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: TACTICAL ASSESSMENT (LEVEL 1)
Identify enemy weak points and environmental advantages during combat.
RANK PROGRESSION: 15% TO E-RANK
I stared at the screen, hands shaking. I'd just... I'd just killed someone. Maybe. I couldn't see if he was breathing. Couldn't tell if—
My phone buzzed again.
OPPONENT STATUS: INCAPACITATED (NON-LETHAL)
AUTHORITIES ALERTED ANONYMOUSLY
LEAVE AREA IMMEDIATELY
Relief and horror crashed over me in equal measure. Not dead. Incapacitated. The app had called the cops. I wasn't a murderer.
Just a broke college student who'd thrown a potted plant at a hitman's face.
"What is my life?" I muttered, climbing down the opposite side of the fire escape.
I made it back to my apartment at 2 AM, covered in alley grime, smelling like dumpster juice, and 2,000 credits richer. Two thousand dollars. More money than I'd seen in six months.
I locked the door, triple-checked it, shoved my desk chair under the handle for good measure, and collapsed on my mattress.
My phone sat on my chest, screen glowing softly.
CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR FIRST COMBAT MISSION, KANE.
YOU HAVE PROVEN YOURSELF CAPABLE.
NEW MISSIONS WILL BE AVAILABLE IN 6 HOURS.
REST RECOMMENDED. RECOVERY IMPROVES PERFORMANCE.
"Thanks for the advice," I said to the app, too exhausted to care how insane that was. "Real thoughtful."
I should've been terrified. Should've deleted the app, smashed my phone, run to the police. But as I lay there, staring at the ceiling, all I could think about was the eviction notice. The empty fridge. The mounting debt.
And now, two thousand dollars. Real money. Money I could withdraw. Money that could save me.
I opened the app's banking section, barely believing it existed. But there it was: CURRENT BALANCE: 2,000 CREDITS.
Below that, a withdrawal option. I could transfer it to my actual bank account. Right now.
My finger hovered over the button.
This is real. This is all real.
I pressed it.
WITHDRAWAL REQUESTED: $2,000 USD
PROCESSING...
TRANSFER COMPLETE
My bank app notification popped up thirty seconds later: Deposit: $2,000.00
I laughed. It came out half-hysterical, echoing in my empty apartment. I'd just earned two months' rent by getting chased through an alley and dropping a plant on a guy's head.
My phone buzzed one more time.
INCOMING MESSAGE FROM CLIENT
My stomach tightened. Another mission already?
I opened it.
The message was from the same anonymous client who'd hired me for the package retrieval. No avatar. No name. Just text:
Thank you for your service. The package was delivered successfully. You have proven... adaptable. I will request you again soon. Higher pay. Higher stakes. You interest me, Kane Rivera.
Below that, another message appeared. Different client. Different avatar—this one showed a red question mark instead of black.
Kane Rivera. F-Rank. First night, two missions, two successes. Impressive. I have a job for you. Very high risk. Very high reward. 48 hours to decide. Details attached.
I opened the attachment.
MISSION: CORPORATE EXTRACTION
LOCATION: NEXUS CORP HEADQUARTERS, DOWNTOWN
DIFFICULTY: C-RANK
PAYMENT: 10,000 CREDITS
TIME LIMIT: 72 HOURS AFTER ACCEPTANCE
DESCRIPTION: Infiltrate Nexus Corp's R&D division. Retrieve prototype device (details in briefing). Avoid detection. Extraction team will provide exit support.
WARNING: THIS MISSION SIGNIFICANTLY EXCEEDS YOUR CURRENT RANK. FAILURE PROBABILITY: HIGH. DEATH RISK: MODERATE. ACCEPT ONLY IF CONFIDENT.
Ten. Thousand. Dollars.
For one mission.
I could pay off three months of back rent. Buy groceries. Fix my laptop. Afford my textbooks. Maybe even sleep without panic attacks about debt collectors.
But C-Rank. I was F-Rank. The app itself was warning me this could kill me.
TIMER STARTED: 47:59:58
I had forty-eight hours to decide if I wanted to risk my life for financial stability.
The worst part? I was already considering it.
My phone screen dimmed, showing my reflection. I looked exhausted. Terrified. But also... alive. More alive than I'd felt in years.
Another notification popped up:
REMINDER: 6 F-RANK OR E-RANK MISSIONS REQUIRED FOR SAFE C-RANK PROGRESSION.
CURRENT MISSIONS COMPLETED: 2
ATTEMPTING C-RANK MISSION NOW IS INADVISABLE.
I locked my phone and closed my eyes.
Tomorrow, I'd deposit the rent check. Buy real food. Maybe even go to class.
Tonight, I'd sleep knowing I'd survived my first real fight and earned enough money to stop the eviction.
The app could wait six hours for my next decision.
But in the darkness behind my eyelids, I kept seeing that number: 10,000 Credits.
And I knew, deep down, I was already hooked.