The slums of Tondo had their own rhythm. Rusted tin roofs leaned against each other like tired shoulders, narrow alleys reeked of sewage and grilled street food, and every corner hummed with restless voices. By night, though, the rhythm shifted. Gangsters owned the streets after dark — collecting protection money, running drugs, enforcing their law with knives and cheap guns.
Miguel had walked these streets before, as an ordinary man. He remembered clutching his wallet tightly, avoiding eye contact, moving quickly. Tonight was different. Tonight, he had Alpha Squad at his back.
They moved like shadows through the alleys, rifles slung, visors glinting faintly under the scattered streetlights. To anyone else, they were invisible — the System's strange camouflage keeping them hidden from the eyes of ordinary people. But Miguel saw them clearly, their discipline almost frightening in its silence.
His phone buzzed.
[Objective: Raid Criminal Safehouse. Location: Tondo, Barangay 73.]
[Enemy Estimate: 15–20 armed hostiles.]
[Civilians Present: Unknown.]
[Reward: +60 Command Points.]
Miguel's throat was dry. He wasn't a soldier. He had never fired a gun in his life. But here he was, leading ten professionals into a den of killers.
The squad leader, callsign Echo One, crouched beside him. "Commander, perimeter secured. Awaiting entry order."
Miguel peeked around the corner. The safehouse looked like a rotting warehouse, corrugated steel patched with plywood, its windows covered in cardboard. From inside came the bass thump of music and the laughter of drunken men.
He hesitated. The old Miguel would have run home, locked his door, prayed the police would someday clean this mess. But the police never did. Tonight, it was on him.
He tightened his grip on the phone. "Go," he whispered.
The assault was fast and brutal.
Alpha Squad flowed into the warehouse like water, stacking at the entrance before breaching in one clean motion. The first burst of gunfire was deafening — short, controlled bursts, not the wild spray of the gangsters.
Men shouted inside. Some tried to reach for pistols, others ran for the back door. None made it. Echo One's voice barked commands over the squad comms: "Clear left! Clear right! Room secure!"
Miguel followed behind, heart hammering, his ears ringing. He saw bodies sprawled on the floor — gangsters clutching weapons, some still moaning, others silent. But what froze him was the sight in the back room.
Two children, no older than ten, huddled behind a couch, their faces streaked with tears. A woman lay unconscious nearby, bruises marking her arms.
Miguel felt his stomach twist. He had expected criminals. He hadn't expected hostages.
Echo One's voice cut through the haze. "Commander, civilians secured. Orders?"
Miguel swallowed. He wasn't sure what to say. In his head, he was still just a clerk, not a general. But the soldiers waited, motionless, until he spoke.
"Evacuate them. Make sure they're safe," he said, his voice steadier than he felt.
"Yes, Commander."
Two soldiers knelt, speaking gently to the children, carrying them out with surprising care. Another hoisted the unconscious woman onto his shoulder.
The rest finished clearing the building, confiscating crates of drugs, bundles of cash, and a pile of cheap rifles. By the time they regrouped, the operation was over.
Miguel stood in the ruined warehouse, chest heaving, the smell of gunpowder thick in the air. He had given the order. He had led this.
His phone buzzed.
[Objective Complete.]
[Command Points: +110 Total.]
[New Unlock Available: Light Vehicle Support.]
A small icon blinked at the bottom of the screen: [HUMVEE ARMORED TRANSPORT – 1 Available for Deployment.]
Miguel stared at it, almost laughing. He could summon a Humvee now. In Manila. What would his neighbors think, seeing military vehicles parked beside their tricycles and jeepneys?
But his smile faded as he looked back at the children, being carried into the night.
This wasn't a game. These weren't just missions. The gangs, the hostages, the drugs — it was all real. And if he stepped away, if he pretended none of this existed, more families would suffer.
He clenched his fists.
For the first time, Miguel understood: the System hadn't chosen him because he was strong. It had chosen him because he wasn't. Because he knew what it felt like to be powerless, and now he had the power to change that.
"Commander," Echo One said, standing at attention, "mission successful. What are your next orders?"
Miguel looked at his squad, then at the dark city skyline beyond the rooftops.
"Tonight," he said, his voice low, steady, "we make them afraid. The gangs. The ones who think they own these streets. From now on, these people — my people — are under my protection."
Echo One saluted. "Yes, Commander."