Jack couldn't believe it—what the hell was happening to him tonight?! His mind spun. Never, not once in his life, had his luck turned this rotten.
In his haze, Jack lifted his head and caught the sound of footsteps—fast, heavy, and closing in on him with aggressive intent.
Swish!
[HP: 9/10]
Even without the system's prompts, Jack could feel every shard of pain coursing through him as he glanced at his arms, still throbbing from the impact. The kick had been aimed straight at his ribs.
If I hadn't blocked that, I'd be puking my guts out again, he thought, a sly grin tugging at his lips despite the ache.
"Oh, you blocked it," the stranger finally spoke, his voice low and sharp, suggesting to Jack that it was a male at least, "You should at least be able to do that."
"What? Do I know you?" Jack replied, while his eyes looked around the area.
"Surely, you jest. Of course, you don't."
Just then, the hooded stranger lunged, his arm cutting through the air, reaching for Jack's neck.
But instead of flesh, his strike sank into a heap of garbage bags that burst under the force.
Jack's eyes narrowed to slits, a grin curling at his lips as he swung down hard with a broken plank clutched in his hands.
'Eat this!'
Yet it didn't land. The wood splintered in his grip, crushed by the man's bare fist.
'What the—?!' Jack's eyes went wide, jaw clenched.
The stranger's leg whipped up for another kick. Jack's eyes tracked it, but his body—sluggish, untrained—couldn't keep up. The blow connected, hurling him through the air before he crashed onto the ground with a sickening thud.
[HP: 5/10]
'Damn it. Why…?'
Jack's thoughts burned as he lay sprawled.
His whole life had been like this—wanting to win, craving victory, only to fall short when it mattered most. He couldn't help but chuckle. In reality, he knew the reason, too. Lack of effort. Lack of preparation. Lack of discipline. And then, when the stakes were real, when it finally mattered, those wasteful days makes their entrance.
The hooded stranger closed in and instantly drove a brutal kick into his jaw. Jack's head snapped sideways, blood spilling from his mouth as pain exploded inside his mouth.
[HP: 3/10]
'What is this? Is he really that guy?' the stranger suddenly paused as he thought in suspicion. In his eyes, "Jack" was a nobody.
With an irritated huff, the stranger yanked back his hood, revealing messy blonde hair—not dyed but that of a foreigner. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through a set of information, his brow furrowing deeper with every swipe.
'This is ridiculous. Is this loser really the one causing us all that trouble?' he thought, glancing at Jack, who was on his knees, face contorted with pain and tears threatening to spill. It didn't add up. No matter how he looked at it, the guy in front of him couldn't possibly be the one they were after.
"Please give me a moment." The stranger then said, as if he wasn't just beating him up earlier, before his hand went to his ear to activate some tiny electronic gadget inside.
"We think we got the wrong person. I should have gone to search for the other POIs. This one is just a civilian!" the stranger complained, very annoyed.
"Is that so?" the mysterious person muttered, baffled.
Noticing Jack pivot his feet, the hooded stranger's boot crashed down on Jack's back—twice—as he kept one hand free, chatting into his earpiece like this was nothing.
[HP: 2/10]
"So, what are you going to do about this? I've wasted my precious time," the stranger said.
"Go back for now," the clipped voice replied.
The stranger hesitated. "And this guy? Can I kill him?"
In the earpiece, there was a beat of static and snapped a reply, "Wait—did he see you? Did he see your—"
The stranger's casual posture froze.
He glanced up at Jack, eyes narrowing. "I forget it. This is your fault for sending inaccurate information. You made me think this is the guy."
"—You bastard. Don't let him talk to anyone. No, kill him."
The voice was suddenly all business, low and urgent, before cutting off the contact. Meanwhile, the stranger clicked his tongue, weighing down his means and options.
But all of a sudden, he felt a sudden change in the area.
[Certain conditions have been met.]
[Skill: Last Surge have been obtained.]
[Type: Passive / Triggered Ability]
[Activation Condition: Activates automatically when the character's HP drops to 10%]
[Effect: Temporarily maximizes all stats, grants damage reduction on the first hit, restores HP over time, and boosts reflexes for critical strikes and counters for 1 minute—at the cost of overwhelming pain afterward.]
"I…"
Jack gritted his teeth. He knew his weaknesses—had always known them. Most of the time he chose to ignore them, burying the truth under excuses. Of course, he wanted to change, but when it mattered, it always seemed too late.
Yet there was one thing that never broke inside him. No matter how crushed, no matter how hopeless—Jack never gave up completely!
[+1 HP]
[+1 HP]
[+1 HP]
[…]
"I really hate this fucking life." Jack grumbled as his HP began to climb back up, pixel by pixel.
The stranger's eyes widened just before Jack's leg swept low, cracking against his ankles, and making him lose his equilibrium.
"!!!"
Due to his quick senses however, the stranger immediately regained his balance. But before he could completely do so, Jack's knee shot upward, smashing into his face, and making his nose bleed.
"Fck!"
Snarling, the blonde clenched his fist and drove an uppercut upward. However, Jack had slipped just aside, his body moving faster than his mind could catch up and his own fist drove straight into the man's stomach with a dull thud, forcing the latter back a step.
The stranger glared, but his face instantly turned ashy, as the power behind the punch was greater than he had expected, making him bawl and kneel.
Jack didn't lose focus, took only one step, moving way quicker than ever, as he maneuvered around the stranger.
The shock on the stranger's face showed that he could not believe it.
'Was he just pretending to be weak? But why?' he thought and grew angry at the thought.
"You madman!" He charged too, swinging his fist one after another, but Jack dodged and blocked most of them. Then, he sidestepped, and delivered three effective jabs to the stranger's ribs.
"Ugh. F#ck!"
The stranger's feet pivoted, and delivered a combination of kicks and punches, but then, Jack spun, and threw a kick himself.
Pang! The sound of bones cracking was heard.
Jack froze for half a second—he could see it, feel it. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was in control. He was the one driving the fight.
His lips curled into a wild grin.
The stranger's eyes rolled back. His body crumpled, hitting the ground with a heavy thud—out cold.
[Critical hit!]
For a moment, silence swallowed the street. Jack stood there, chest heaving, hardly believing it. He had actually won.
[Victory!]
[Your first battle has been completed.]
[50 EXP Received.]
[50/100 Exp]
Jack stared blankly at the glowing texts. Even now, Jack honestly cannot believe this was actually real.
All he could hear was the ragged rhythm of his own breathing.
He forced himself to take a cautious step forward, finally getting a clear look at the man's face.
The stranger looked to be in his thirties, with natural blonde hair. Not Asian—that much was obvious.
"I thought it was just some crazy addict, but… a foreigner?" Jack muttered, baffled. Foreigners weren't rare in the Philippines, but to think a foreigner would suddenly attack him.
Jack swallowed. 'If this guy's the one behind the shooting, then he should've had' Jack immediately rifled through the man's pockets, but there were no firearms.
'My phone…' He searched for his bag—then realized it was gone. Strangely, he was calmer than expected and was about to call for help from the crowd when a notification blinked into view:
[External presences locked. User is threatened.]
"Shit," Jack muttered under his breath.
Jack's heart pounded. Forget calling for help. He needs to get away from this place.
He spun on his heel. But the next notification stopped him, literally.
[1 minute is over.]
[Consequences will now apply.]
"…Huh?"
In his eyes, the streetlights suddenly stretched and the pavement warped beneath him as his knees involuntarily slammed into the concrete before the most intense pain ever ripped through him like a living entity, jagged and unrelenting. It was as if electricity and disease was tearing through him, sharper than anything he had ever felt.
'I feel like my organs are being torn apart…'
Jack clawed at the ground, trying to lift himself, but his limbs refused, twitching under the unbearable pain.
Every nerve in his body screamed, every muscle convulsed involuntarily. He couldn't stand. He couldn't move. Even breathing felt like poison.
He couldn't even scream but his eyes were bloodshot as he heard the sound of footsteps coming towards him, and just before he lost consciousness, he saw more strangers in black suits hovering above him.
"How about the guy he fought?"
"Out cold."
"How? How good can that guy be to push this guy to this extent?"
--
Crios Font City was one of the few urban centers in the Province of La Bonde. Prosperous by provincial standards, it still paled in scale and grandeur compared to the cities in the Capital. Yet beneath its modest façade, the city harbored its own share of secrets.
Criminal syndicates thrived in the shadows. So did those who had sworn to oppose them. Among the latter stood the Crifforth Orgs, a private-sector powerhouse that had quietly grown into one of the most sophisticated organizations in the country.
Hidden near the city parks, concealed beneath the road leading to the old sewer systems, lay Branch 5, which was one of the Orgs' most advanced underground facilities.
From the surface, it was invisible. But past biometric gates and reinforced blast doors, the space unfolded into a labyrinth of steel corridors, surveillance hubs, and glass-paneled command rooms lit by cold-blue holographics.
Crifforth Orgs' was not a government agency. But it was formed by wealthy elites from different walks of life—politicians, industrialists, foreign investors. Overtime, Crifforth Orgs had carved out a place in history, both in the underworld and the halls of power. Their influence ran deep, enough that even the government's secret service acknowledged them as an unofficial partner.
Branch 5 wasn't just a headquarters. It was the beating heart of Crifforth operations across two provinces, coordinating everything from black-ops field missions to financial warfare. Every screen pulsed with live data feeds. Every room was alive with coded chatter. And beneath it all was a sense of purpose—an iron resolve to fight fire with fire.
Just then, in one of Crifforth Orgs' rooms, Jack had finally woken up from his slumber.