The smell of old cigarette butts, rusted metal, and moldy futon foam hit Toma before he even opened the sliding door.
His safehouse wasn't much. A one-room capsule apartment tucked above a defunct ramen shop with flickering fluorescent lights and walls so thin, you could hear your neighbor's breathing.
But it was a roof, and for someone who had just killed some men, that was a luxury.
He locked the door behind him, twice, then slumped against it, exhaling like he'd been holding his breath for a year.
And then-
DING!
[OVERDRAFT SYSTEM INITIALIZING…
Current Debt: ¥15,830,000
Status: Active
Synchronization: 27%]
[Toma Kisaragi. You survived.]
"You're still here," Toma muttered, shrugging off his bloodied delivery jacket and letting it crumple to the floor. "I was hoping this was a coma dream."
[Negative. You are very much awake. And still very much in debt.]
Toma collapsed into the futon. It squeaked like a dying animal. "Who the hell built you? Yakuza? Military? Megacorp?"
[Classified. Let's just say I was designed to turn men like you into…capitalized violence."
"Now then. Shall we continue your financial rehabilitation?]
Toma groaned. "Can I get five minutes to process the fact I just killed people?"
[You had seven minutes. During that time, I counted four instances of cardiac arrhythmia, two mild panic attacks, and one semi-conscious episode of you clutching your knees while whispering, 'oh shit oh shit oh shit.']
He blinked.
[You're the host, Toma. There's no off button.]
"God." Toma ran both hands down his face. "Alright, fine. What's next?"
The air in the room shifted. Cold.
[Weapon unlock: PRIMARY ARMAMENT MODULE – TWIN PISTOL UNITS: REVENANT GUNS.]
A pulse of light erupted.
Suddenly, in the air before him, something materialized, like smoke turning solid.
Two pistols floated midair, matte black with glowing red circuits along the frame. The left grip read "DEBT" in etched kanji. The right: "COLLECTOR."
[Meet Revenant Alpha and Revenant Beta. Semi-autonomous. DNA-synced. Ammunition costs deducted per shot. No freebies.]
Toma stood, cautiously reaching out. The moment his fingers touched the grips, the guns locked into his hands like they were always meant to be there. "…These are mine?"
[Bound to your blood. No one else can fire them. Congratulations. You're officially a weaponized debtor.]
He gave them a test spin. The balance was perfect. "What's the ammo?"
[Liquid copper-pressurized rounds. Charged per unit. ¥150 per bullet.]
[Warning: Inaccurate shots will cost you money without return. Friendly reminder, only corpses generate revenue.]
He stared at the guns. "So every time I pull the trigger, my wallet bleeds?"
[Welcome to the business of killing.]
Suddenly, another ding.
[New Mission Contract: Client Request - Underworld Cleanup
Target: The Shiromura Crime Family
Objective: Eliminate Mid-Level Enforcer(s)
Reward: ¥400,000 – ¥1,200,000 (variable based on performance)
Deadline: 04:00]
[Accept or decline?]
Toma paced the room, hands still gripping the guns. "Shiromura…those guys run most of southern Orika. That's suicide."
[No. That's opportunity. They're unstable, exposed, and worth every yen. More importantly, they hold assets your account desperately needs.]
"Assets like what?" Toma questioned.
[Armor modules. Medical backups. Safehouses. Credits. They are the definition of 'liquid targets.']
Toma chewed his lip. "You make it sound like I'm mugging a bank."
[Correction. You're mugging the people who rob the bank.]
He sighed, dropped the guns onto the bed, and lit a cigarette. He didn't even smoke, it just felt like the thing to do before making another life-ending decision.
"…Accept."
[Contract Accepted. Time remaining: 3 hours, 11 minutes]
"Shit."
01:22 – Industrial District 14, Orika City
Toma crouched behind a rusted-out truck on the edge of Shiromura territory, twin pistols at his sides, hoodie drawn tight over his face.
Wind whipped through the loading docks, carrying the scent of gasoline and gun oil.
[Thermal scan complete. Three targets: rooftop guard, warehouse lookout, and a lone enforcer smoking outside dock 7.]
[Start with the smoker. Quietly.]
[Confirmed. Revenant Beta set to silent kill mode. Headshot recommended. Optimal income yield: ¥200,000.]
Toma exhaled once, then moved.
Feet silent. Shadow low. Just like when he'd break into complexes for deliveries.
The enforcer leaned against a stack of crates, back turned. Big guy. Tattooed neck. Definitely Shiromura muscle.
Toma raised the gun. Hands shook for half a second.
[Target cost per missed shot: ¥150. Heart rate spiking. Want me to calculate funeral expenses?]
"Shut up." Toma said.
BANG!
The round punched through the back of the skull. The man dropped like meat.
Toma's HUD lit up.
[+¥210,000 CREDITED
Shot efficiency bonus: ¥10,000]
He swallowed. "…That was easier than I thought."
[Murder usually is. Morality is expensive. Survival is cheaper.]
Gunfire cracked above, someone had seen him.
"Shit, go loud?" Toma asked.
[Go very, very loud.]
Toma ducked left, fired two rounds up into the rooftop. Screams.
Someone toppled off the edge.
The warehouse exploded with motion doors flying open, men rushing out armed with bats, blades, and guns.
Toma slid behind a forklift and peeked out.
[Ten targets. Three armed. Seven melee. Want the quick math?]
"Let's dance." Toma smirked.