The night wind carried grit across an empty stretch of road on the edge of Los Angeles.
Under the dull glow of a streetlamp, Felix Lee stood in the shadows.
Black hoodie up, head low, only his eyes visible.
Focused.
His right hand stayed on the grip of his M1911, fingers pressing the metal.
No sweat on his skin. Just a slight tremor in his knuckles.
Across the street, a convenience store spilled light onto the sidewalk. Customers came and went. Normal. Too normal.
Felix's breathing grew heavier.
Tomorrow, he'd wear a badge for the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department.
Tonight, he had another job: hunting a man who needed to die.
The voice came months ago, the day he graduated from the academy.
[Congratulations, Host. Sin Hunter System activated.]
[This system exists to punish evil. Eliminating a designated target grants rewards: cash, firearms and ammunition, attribute points, skill points, and occasional bonus items.]
[The Host can now see a Sin Mark above every person, calibrated by the laws of their country.]
A translucent panel appeared before his eyes:
Name: Felix
Age: 23
Remaining Life: 56 years
Strength: 11 (average male: 10)
Constitution: 9 (average male: 10)
Reflexes: 10 (average male: 10)
Speed: 8 (average male: 10)
Skill: Handgun Lv2 (basic proficiency)
At first, he thought it was a mental breakdown.
Then it started showing him people's marks.
That's when he knew: he wasn't just a cop. He could go further.
No probation. No supervisor.
Just him, the gun, and the system's judgment.
Felix exhaled, lowered his hood, stepped out of the dark.
The gun felt heavy. The weight steadied him.
Tonight, justice didn't need a courtroom.
Los Angeles didn't make its hunters wait.
Minutes later, a man in a hoodie caught his eye.
Black. Hands buried in his pockets. Twitchy.
A dull gray Sin Mark floated above his head.
The man walked straight into the store.
Moments later, a shout:
"Gimme your money, motherf*er!"**
Loud. Clear.
Felix's chest tightened.
Relief. Fear. Anticipation.
"Alright, alright—just wait—"
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Gunshots. Silence.
The door burst open. The man stumbled out, a bloody paper bag in his hand. His Sin Mark flared red.
He bolted, aiming to pass Felix and disappear into the alley.
Felix lowered his head, tracking him.
When the man's back turned—
Felix drew, racked the slide, fired.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Three hits.
The man dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.
Felix sprinted, scooped up the fallen gun, ran.
He didn't stop until his lungs burned. Found cover in a narrow alley. Leaned against a wall, gasping.
His hand shook.
That hand had just ended a life.
[Ding.]
[Target eliminated. First kill completed. Rewards: Portable Storage unlocked. Cash: $30. Note: Storage can only hold system-issued or rewarded items.]
"Thirty bucks?" His laugh came out dry.
He searched himself. Nothing.
[Funds delivered.]
Fine. He'd figure it out later.
"Hey, kid. Get the hell outta here!"
The voice came from the alley mouth.
Felix looked up. A Latino man stared at him, hand behind his back. Thirty meters out, another man crouched by a car, working the lock.
Two of them. One near. One far. No cover. Bad spot.
Felix raised his hands, palms out, backing away.
The first man sneered.
"Stop right there. Empty your pockets."
"Come on, man. We don't have to do this." Calm.
"No. Hand it over." The man kept coming.
"I'm just a student. No cash."
The man didn't stop.
At five meters, Felix sighed. "Ah, hell."
He swung his arms out, swept his hoodie aside, drew the M1911.
BANG.
One shot to the chest. The man dropped.
"Goodnight," Felix muttered.
The second guy moved fast. Felix ducked, dashed behind a car, fired twice toward where he'd seen him.
"You killed Hax! I'll f***ing kill you!" the man screamed, firing blind into the car. Sparks and glass sprayed.
Felix waited.
Click. A jam.
He shot.
BANG. BANG.
Two rounds. Silence.
Felix rose, kicked the guns away from both bodies, scanned for movement.
None.
He exhaled, long and shaky.
Three dead tonight.