Contract ID: #GX-217-B
Client Status: Verified (Anonymous)
Task Type: Elimination & Sabotage
Location: Gotham City East end.
Objective: Neutralize rival gang members and destroy warehouse facility located at 147 Dockyard Lane.
Estimated Hostiles: ~32 armed individuals; moderate-to-heavy firepower expected.
Intel: Gang is equipped with black market weapons—likely automatic rifles, explosives, and modified vehicles. Perimeter has rotating sentries, surveillance cams, and a 3-man sniper overwatch.
Special Note: Building may contain narcotics, cash reserves, or shipment manifests—client requests total destruction of all assets.
Payout: $75,000 upon confirmed completion.
Risk Level: High
Commission Fee: 20% deducted upon job closeout.
"Perfect to stretch some muscles," Jason muttered as he clicked ACCEPT.
The screen flickered for a second, and almost immediately, a crisp chime echoed in his mind.
Ding!
> Task Accepted.
Objective: Eliminate rival gang & destroy warehouse (Gotham – East End Industrial Zone)
Hostiles: ~32 armed targets
Bonus Objective: Total asset destruction
Reward: 7,500 points.
Risk Level: High
With the task accepted, Jason decided to rest. He'd head to Gotham tonight—when the shadows were deeper and the targets more vulnerable.
Some hours later...
Jason stood in front of the mirror, slipping on a black shirt and baggy trousers—the classic Toji Fushiguro look. Yeah, the outfit came bundled with the card, just like the purple cursed spirit he now relied on for weapon storage.
He walked over to his desk, pulled open the bottom drawer, and took out a small purple sphere—smooth, cold, and pulsing faintly. With a light shake, it expanded into a long, worm-like creature that slithered up his arm before wrapping itself tightly around his abdomen its head lying on his shoulder.
Jason suppressed a shiver.
No matter how many times he used it, he still wasn't used to the cursed thing clinging to him like some parasite. The sensation crawled across his skin—slimy and wrong.
At least it was invisible to everyone but him.
And there was no damn way he was swallowing it like Toji did.
Ever.
Just the thought of it made him grimace in disgust.
He then reached into the drawer again and pulled out a plain white mask—featureless, almost ghost-like.
Without hesitation, he slipped it on, adjusting the straps until it fit snugly over his face. The final piece of the look.
Jason closed the drawer with a soft click, turned off the lights, and stepped out of his apartment—his silhouette disappearing into the night.
----------------
The skies over Gotham were dark, choked by clouds threatening rain.
Jason crouched atop a crane, overlooking the East End Industrial Zone. Even from this distance, he could clearly spot armed men patrolling the warehouse grounds. More importantly, he noted the snipers—three of them—stationed in a triangular formation along the perimeter.
They'd have to go first.
He stood slowly from his crouched position, adjusting his footing on the steel beam beneath him. Around his neck, the cursed spirit stirred. Its mouth opened with a hiss, revealing the hilt of a blade emerging from its gullet.
Jason reached out with his right hand and gripped the hilt tightly.
He pulled free the Soul-Splitting Katana, its edge glinting faintly under the dim moonlight.
Then he bent his knees and launched himself into the air—a black blur streaking toward the first sniper.
The guards below only caught a fleeting shadow darting above them.
"Did you see that?"
"Yeah… I think I did. Go alert the others," the second said, quickly disappearing inside.
Meanwhile, high above, the sniper lay flat on his stomach, oblivious. A shadow loomed. He looked up—too late.
Jason descended in silence, the katana pointed downward. The blade pierced clean through the sniper's head and out his jaw, pinning him to the rooftop. Jason landed with a dull crunch on the man's back, bones snapping underfoot. With a sharp twist of his boot on the sniper's skull, he yanked the blade free.
He glanced down at the body, expression flat behind the mask.'That guy was definitely an ameture afterall a sniper is vulnerable without a spotter and this guy wasn't even hidden ' Jason thought
Jason was just about to move to the next target when shouting erupted below.
"Intruder! There's an intruder!!"
Dozens of armed men poured out of the warehouse like a kicked anthill, assault rifles in hand. Panic swept through them until one voice cut through the chaos.
"Over there! I see him!!"
A floodlight snapped to life, locking on Jason's silhouette standing tall atop the rooftop, one foot resting on the dead sniper's head, his Katana slick with blood and gleaming under the harsh light. His face hidden behind the white mask,
Bang!
A bullet whizzed past his head.
Jason casually tilted his head, narrowly dodging it.
"Fire!"
Muzzle flashes burst across the yard. The rooftop erupted into chaos as gunfire ripped through the night.
Jason was already moving.
With a sharp exhale, he kicked off the sniper's skull — using the corpse as a springboard. He somersaulted into the air, and landed across the rooftop of the warehouse opposite his target for the night, bullets snapping past him, trailing inches behind
His eyes locked onto the second sniper nest.
The spotter had just pulled out his sidearm, finger tightening on the trigger — when Jason vanished.
A blur of motion.
A breathless second passed.
The spotter's eyes widened. Blood welled up at his throat, along with the sniper beside him. A red line split both their necks. They collapsed with twin thuds, weapons clattering uselessly to the roof.
Jason landed softly and sprinted forward toward the remaining armed men, a black blur of death.
Gunfire roared.
Screams followed.
He tore through them like a hurricane — blade flashing, cutting deep, movements fluid and terrifyingly precise. In less than a minute, the chaotic cacophony died down.
Silence settled.
Jason stood tall amid the aftermath, his white mask streaked faintly with blood. The Katana in his hand dripped crimson, glinting under the warehouse lights.
He stepped over corpses and broken weapons, then bent down and picked up a discarded assault rifle.
As he checked the sights, he caught movement — a fleeing sniper, one he'd missed, climbing down the fire escape in a panic.
Jason didn't even look directly at him.
He raised the gun with one hand, aimed casually—
Bang!
The fleeing sniper's skull burst open. His body crumpled and tumbled from the elevated walkway, landing in a heap.
Jason lowered the gun.
"How careless of me"He muttered, already walking toward the warehouse entrance now sealed shut after the guards had raised the alarm.
He figured they were waiting with rocket launchers or Gatling guns on the other side. Not that it mattered. They weren't fast enough to hit him.
He stopped in front of the metal doors, running a hand across the surface, then took a step back. With practiced ease, he raised the katana and slid it into the cursed spirit's gaping mouth. It swallowed the blade, then opened again to reveal another hilt.
Jason drew the Inverted Spear of Heaven.
Inside the warehouse, the air was tense. Fewer than ten men remained, guns aimed squarely at the entrance. One of them hefted a grenade launcher. Another stood behind a reinforced van mounted with a Gatling gun.
Suddenly—
The doors split like paper.
Steel shredded, panels torn apart in a screeching explosion of force as Jason tore through with multiple strikes. From the smoke, he stepped in, calm and unbothered.
The man holding a golden Desert Eagle screamed,
"KILL HIM!"
Gunfire erupted like thunder. The grenade launcher fired, sending an explosion surging across the spot where Jason had stood.
"Cease fire!" the man with the gold deagle shouted.
"Did we get him?" someone asked—voice cracking.
Gurgling.
A dull thud.
They turned just in time to see the man at the back of the van—beheaded. Jason was already standing on the vehicle's bed, gripping the mounted Gatling gun.
He tilted his head slightly, mask stained with blood, and muttered,
"Adiós, amigo."
Then he opened fire.
The thunder of the Gatling gun roared through the metal skeleton of the building, each round tearing through steel, flesh, and bone like wet paper. The reinforced van rocked slightly under the recoil, but Jason kept his stance solid, sweeping the barrel in a deadly arc.
Three men were torn apart instantly.
One tried to dive for cover behind a crate—he never made it. Another raised his rifle and vanished in a mist of red before his finger could touch the trigger. The man with the golden Deagle fired blindly, yelling something incoherent before a round struck his thigh, spinning him around—another punched through his chest.
Click. Click.
Jason released the overheated weapon. Smoke rose from the barrel as the last two men tried to flee toward a side door. One of them slipped, tripping over the shredded body of a comrade.
Jason was already on the move.
He blurred from the truck's bed, the Inverted Spear of Heaven reappearing in his hand as the cursed spirit spat it out into his waiting grip. With barely a sound, he vanished, then reappeared behind the first man—blade slicing through spine and sternum.
The final survivor reached the exit—hand on the latch—when a knife buried itself in his skull. Jason lowered his hand after the throw, breathing calmly as the body hit the floor with a soft, wet thud.
Silence.
Jason hoisted up an ammo crate, kicked it toward a pile of smuggled goods, and grabbed the grenade launcher from the fallen thug's corpse. With a smooth motion, he took aim and fired.
BOOM!
The explosion consumed the merchandise in flames, throwing debris across the warehouse floor. Another detonation followed as stray rounds and explosives ignited in the blast.
Ding!
> Task Completed
Objective: Eliminate rival gang & destroy warehouse (Gotham – East End Industrial Zone)
Hostiles Neutralized: ~32 armed targets
Bonus Objective: Total asset destruction
Risk Level: High
Reward: 7,500 System Points (Equivalent payout: $75,000)
Reward pending confirmation...
Jason dropped the grenade launcher with a metallic clatter, his eyes scanning the scorched ruins. The job was done. Now, all that remained was for the site to be confirmed by the client—once verified, the points would be his.
He turned to leave.
Thwip—!
A thin projectile struck the ground just in front of him, kicking up sparks.
Jason halted mid-step.
Then came the voice—low, hard, and unmistakably familiar.
"Where do you think you're going?"
End of Chapter