The ferry slid into Busan's port under a sky the color of wet steel. Mitya stood on the deck, collar up against the wind, watching the cranes move like patient predators over the stacks of containers. The air smelled different here — salt, diesel, and something sharper, like the tang of new money.
The System's overlay adjusted to the unfamiliar skyline.
Operator: Locale confirmed. Port of Busan. Contract initiation in 02:00:00.
The Objective
The optics shipment was buried somewhere in the sprawl of the container yard. The System fed him the details in clipped bursts:
Container ID: Masked.Location: Sector 14, Row 6.Complication: Rival crew en route.Extraction: Sea or land — Operator's choice.
Vega was already on the ground, blending into the flow of dockworkers. Two additional operatives — faceless in their anonymity — waited for his signal.
The First Move
Busan's port was a labyrinth of steel and shadow. Mitya moved through it like he'd been born here, the System whispering directions in his ear. Every turn was calculated to keep him out of sightlines, every pause timed to the sweep of security cameras.
Sector 14 was busier than expected. Forklifts hummed between stacks, and the rival crew was already in position — four men in dark jackets, pretending to check manifests.
Operator: Engagement likely. Recommend pre‑emptive disruption.
The Disruption
He didn't want a firefight in a foreign port. Instead, he used the Cleanroom to trigger a false customs alert on the rival crew's container. Within minutes, two uniformed inspectors arrived, pulling the men aside for "random" checks.
Vega's voice came through the comms. "Clear path."
The Retrieval
The target container was locked, but the System's tools made short work of it. Inside, the optics were packed in foam — sleek, precise, expensive. The kind of gear that could change the balance of a battlefield.
Operator: Package secured. Extraction route?
"Sea," Mitya said. Land meant checkpoints. Sea meant speed.
The Chase
They were halfway to the pier when the rival crew reappeared, shouting in Korean, weapons flashing in the cold light. Vega and the operatives moved instantly, laying down suppressive fire that echoed off the steel walls.
Mitya didn't look back. He sprinted for the waiting trawler, the container's contents already vanishing into the Cleanroom's shimmer.
The Exit
The trawler's engine roared to life, cutting through the harbor's chop. Behind them, the port shrank into a blur of cranes and smoke. The System's voice was calm, almost pleased.
Ledger: 18,200.00Reputation: +6 (Intermediate Tier)Note: First international contract — successful.
The Realization
As the coastline faded, Mitya leaned against the rail. The Pacific stretched out ahead, endless and indifferent. Vladivostok felt far away, and for the first time, he understood that the System's world had no borders — and neither would he, if he kept going.