[Boys' Brain Storage]
[Girls' Brain Storage]
[Non-Human Brain Storage]
[May I know your name, incoming warrior?]
[Leave your favorite assassin movies or TV shows below]
[This is not a brainless wish-fulfillment story, no system, no cheats, just slow growth. If you don't like it, don't enter. If you're impatient or a hater, go straight to the incinerator!]
[This is a parallel world of various movies and TV shows. If you find anything inconsistent with the original plot or settings, please follow my settings. All actions, plots, characters, and names are purely coincidental if similar.]
[Tip: Proficiency will fluctuate due to physical condition, but it will not continuously decline. The initial drop is because the original owner is dead + injured and weak. If you still don't understand, I can only say... this book is not for you.]
[Don't ask why the transmigration didn't come with plot knowledge. Some know a little, but most of it is vague. It's not like I watch movies every day; who can remember everything? Plus, with various recurring characters, am I supposed to have hyperthymesia? And I also experienced memory fusion.]
The world of assassins has always existed outside the light, whether you are exceptionally gifted or just average.
On a street in Brooklyn, there was a house where a unlucky fellow had lived for 8 years. He wasn't exactly an assassin, but he at least managed to scrape by in the underworld.
However, he wasn't feeling well now. Last night, he had failed a mission in a warehouse in Brooklyn. The second-hand bullets he bought were damp and couldn't be fired.
After the first shot, the gun misfired, though it did hit the opponent's thigh.
Before he could fire a second shot, he was hit in the left shoulder. In his haste, he fled back.
The high fever caused by the infected gunshot wound made him delirious. He didn't even have the strength to see a doctor, and he only had 50 dollars left. As for the money, that woman had taken it all.
He fell asleep in a daze and never woke up again.
The landlady happened to come back, and seeing the dust everywhere, she frowned. "This kid, he doesn't care about hygiene at all. I must teach him a good lesson!"
[Time: September 15, 2013, 14:22. Location: Brooklyn, New York.]
"Holy crap!"
Zhang Jie suddenly sprang up from the damp mattress, cold sweat on his forehead mixing with raindrops dripping from the ceiling.
"Why is it leaking again?"
He subconsciously muttered, then reached under his pillow, only to feel a puddle of icy water.
Huh? Why am I feeling under my pillow?
"Where the hell is this?"
"Who am I?"
His muddled brain slowly started to react.
The dim room was filled with the smell of mold and cheap whiskey.
The wallpaper peeled like a skin disease, and takeout boxes and empty liquor bottles were scattered on the floor.
[Handgun: Lv0 (15/100)]
A line of translucent numbers suddenly popped up in the lower right corner of his vision. Zhang Jie blinked, but the numbers stubbornly remained there.
"What the hell is this..."
He stumbled to his feet, his knee hitting the crooked nightstand, making him wince in pain.
On the nightstand sat a half-empty bottle of whiskey and a yellowed photo pressed under the bottle. In the photo, he was hugging a blonde woman, with the neon sign of a nightclub in the background.
"Who is this? My girlfriend?"
Fragments of memory suddenly flooded his mind: Zhang Jie, Chinese American, 23 years old, a small-time thug who took low-level jobs like collecting debts for gangs and intimidating witnesses.
Last night, he failed a mission in the warehouse district and was shot in the left shoulder by a man... The wound got infected, causing a high fever... He knew nothing else, as if his other memories were sealed.
"Hiss—"
He tore open his blood-stained white tank top, and sure enough, his left shoulder was wrapped in a seeping bandage.
"Damn it, did I transmigrate?"
"And with a system? Come out, system!"
..."Come out, little bro system?"
There was no response.
In the bedside drawer lay a slightly rusty handgun. The magazine was full, but when he pulled out a bullet, the slight green rust on the brass casing made him curse.
"Can this thing even be used? Does it come with enchantments?"
[Handgun: Lv0 (15 → 14/100)]
"My proficiency can drop?!"
Suddenly, the sound of high heels clacking on the hallway floor echoed, followed by the jingle of a key chain.
A bad feeling abruptly rose... "ZHANG!!"
A sharp female voice pierced through the door, with a heavy German accent, "Your rent is 730 days overdue! Dammit! If you don't pay today, I'm throwing your things into the Hudson River!"
Zhang Jie looked at the sticky note on the refrigerator door: "Ultimatum: Pay $1200 by the 15th, or get out! — Schneider"
Today was the 15th.
"Mrs. Schneider, please give me two more days..."
He pulled open the door a crack, facing the landlady's heavily powdered face.
The woman was in her sixties, 158cm tall, with an exaggerated perm, wearing a leopard print bathrobe, her right hand on her hip, her left hand jiggling a string of keys.
"Two days?"
The old woman sneered, her bright red lips looking like they might drip blood. "I just heard from Karl that you messed up the Russians' job last night. Now all the thugs in Brooklyn are laughing at you!"
She pushed Zhang Jie aside and stomped into the room in her ten-centimeter heels. The mix of perfume and cigarette smoke made Zhang Jie frown.
"Look at this pigsty!" The old woman kicked over an empty pizza box. "My granddaughter is a lawyer's assistant on Wall Street and she's more successful than you!"
Only then did Zhang Jie notice a newspaper clipping on the wall, showing a young girl's graduation photo. Was it... Angelina Jolie?
Next to it, written in German, was: "Max, NYU School of Law."
"Mrs. Schneider, your granddaughter..."
"Stop changing the subject!" The old woman pulled out a self-printed court summons from her briefcase and slapped it on the table. "By 6 PM today, either pay up or take your junk and get out!"
It was an eviction notice (homemade).
Zhang Jie rummaged through all his pockets, only finding a crumpled 53 dollars and a note with a place name written on it.
"Continental Hotel"
The letters appeared somewhat dim in the faint light.
"Continental Hotel?!" He inexplicably felt his heart skip a beat.
"Oh, so you can read, huh?" The old woman rolled her eyes. "Karl gave it to you, didn't he? Don't dream. With your skill, you're not even fit to clean their toilets!"
She tossed down a utility bill and stormed off, kicking the wobbly TV cabinet on her way out.
[Handgun: Lv0 (14 → 13/100)]
"It's dropping again?!"
Zhang Jie slumped into the creaking chair, examining his meager possessions: a rusty handgun, three barely usable bullets (the rest were ruined), 53 dollars, and the crumpled notebook.
He opened to the latest page:
「September 10: Liu Ziqiang borrowed the last $500, said he had a big job and needed a deposit. Lisa cried, said she'd believe me one last time.」
He flipped back:
「August 28: Lisa's birthday, bought her the bag she wanted. Ziqiang said it was fake, Lisa threw the bag in my face.」
「August 23: Debt collection mission, target was an old woman. Couldn't bring myself to do it, commission halved.」
Zhang Jie rubbed his temples.
The original owner was not only a loser in the assassin world but also a prime example of a 'simp.'
His stomach rumbled with hunger, so he decided to eat first before figuring things out.
Just as he loaded the last three usable bullets into the magazine, there was another knock at the door.
"Zhang! Do you want your girlfriend's things or not?" It was Mrs. Schneider's voice. "If not, I'm throwing them in the trash!"
He opened the door, and a cardboard box was shoved into his arms.
Inside were some cheap perfumes, hair clips, and a torn photo. In the photo, the nightclub girl the original owner was hugging was kissing another Asian man, who was flipping the bird and wearing the original owner's work ID around his neck.
"Liu Ziqiang..."
Zhang Jie inexplicably gritted his teeth. The original owner had a lot of resentment!
This bastard not only cheated him but also stole the original owner's ID to pick up girls?
"Tsk tsk, how pitiful," the old woman said, feigning sympathy. "That little hussy said this morning she was going to Las Vegas with that man and took all your remaining savings."
"Mrs. Schneider, what time did they leave?"
"Nine AM flight. They should be..." The old woman glanced at her rhinestone-encrusted designer watch. "...having fun at the casino now!"
For some reason, Zhang Jie rushed back into the room, grabbed his jacket and handgun. The old woman leaned against the doorframe, covering her mouth and laughing. What a gullible fool.
Zhang Jie didn't know that he was now influenced by the original owner's memories, his mind full of the five-hour flight from here to the casino city, and it was only... [Handgun: Lv0 (13 → 12/100)]
"Dropping again?!"
"The way you're holding that gun, it looks like you're holding a bottle opener," the old woman commented, leaning against the doorframe. "My granddaughter's ex-boyfriend was in the special forces, now that's what you call..."
Zhang Jie didn't wait to hear the rest and rushed out.
The airport, he had to stop that cheating couple!
As soon as he ran down to the park downstairs, he was out of breath.
He leaned against a lamppost, panting and unable to speak.
This body was too weak, and the wound on his left shoulder was still seeping blood.
At this moment, Zhang Jie also came to his senses. Wait, I'm not the original owner. Why should I care about that cheating couple?
His girlfriend ran off, what does that have to do with me?
Although they both share the name Zhang Jie, what does it matter to me?
Why am I in such a hurry?
Shouldn't I be cheering?
"I wish you happiness! F*ck!"
Having figured this out, Zhang Jie abandoned the idea of chasing them and decided to stroll through the park. After all, he was still injured and shouldn't engage in strenuous activity.
As he walked through the park's bushes, a dog bark and laughter caught his attention.
"Bark again, you little pup? Hahahaha!"
Three thugs surrounded a beagle, with a silver tag around its neck.
"Look at this little beast trying to bite me!" The big white guy tugged at the dog's collar. "Tonight, we're taking it to the Chinese restaurant run by those Chinese people!"
Zhang Jie narrowed his eyes as he walked past the man.
The white man then laughed and looked at the tag on the dog's neck, saying, "Daisy?"
He flipped it over and saw another line of small text: "Owned by John."
"Who's John? A heartbroken dog owner? Hahahaha!"
"John?!"
Zhang Jie suddenly froze, his blood boiling.
Holy crap!
Could it be...?
It shouldn't be a coincidence in names, right?
Should I take a gamble?
"Hey! You guys!"