Chapter 68: Isn't the System Meant to Be Used for Blackmail?
William's words made Theresa's eyes go wide.
What did that mean?
That she wasn't going to survive today?
She was done for.
It hit her all at once.
So he really was a deranged serial killer.
And she—she was his prey.
After she died, would her name end up in the papers?
Would people whisper about her, speculate about how she died?
In an instant, countless terrifying thoughts flooded her mind.
"No—no, please!" Theresa completely lost her composure.
"William, please! We're classmates! For God's sake, let me go!
You want something? I'll do anything—anything! Just don't kill me!"
"Enough," William said coldly.
"Mandy, tape her mouth shut."
Theresa's shrill pleading was grating on his nerves. Without hesitation, Mandy pulled out packing tape and sealed Theresa's mouth.
"Mmmph—mmph—!"
Even gagged, Theresa kept making muffled noises, desperately trying to awaken some shred of mercy.
At that moment, the door opened again.
Svetlana had returned.
"Wow," she drawled, glancing around.
"A party in broad daylight? Aren't you worried the neighbors might call the cops?"
The moment Theresa saw Svetlana, her eyes lit up with desperate hope. She stared at her, silently begging for help.
After tossing out the joke, Svetlana set a black plastic bag down on the table.
Then she shot William a look.
"Boss. Is it convenient to talk right now?"
With Theresa present, she hadn't said what was inside the bag.
"It's fine," William replied casually.
"Just pretend she doesn't exist."
He truly didn't care.
If Theresa developed any dangerous ideas, he could always "gift" her a sudden case of Alzheimer's—make sure she forgot everything.
"Your call, boss," Svetlana said.
She tapped the black plastic bag lightly.
"This is the money from the last batch of guns."
The bag bulged visibly, stuffed full.
William walked over and opened it.
Inside were neatly stacked bills—ones, fives, twenties, and even a few hundreds.
"Seven thousand dollars total," Svetlana said.
"That's what's left after paying commissions to the 'salespeople.'"
She sounded slightly uneasy.
Svetlana didn't know William's cost price. If this deal had lost money, she feared he might send her back to the massage parlor—to being a technician again.
That was the last thing she wanted.
For the first time in years, she could see a real chance to change her fate. Being dragged back into her old life would be worse than death.
"So fast?" William asked, genuinely surprised.
"You sold them all already?"
Svetlana shrugged lightly.
"This is the South Side.
Without a gun, a lot of people here can't even sleep at night."
"True enough."
William nodded, clearly in agreement.
"Oh, right, boss," Svetlana added. "The quality of this batch was pretty good, so I kept one for myself."
As she spoke, she drew an M9 from her waistband.
"Don't worry—I paid for it."
Even now, Svetlana was still living under someone else's roof, so her attitude remained carefully respectful.
William, however, had seen the original story. He knew very well that Svetlana was never the type to willingly stay beneath someone forever.
He never believed she truly intended to follow him loyally for the long term.
"Good," William said calmly. "No problems during distribution?"
Svetlana shook her head.
"I'm Russian. And with the Milkovich backing me up, as long as I don't sell in Black neighborhoods, no one gives me trouble."
It had to be said—Svetlana was genuinely capable.
William rubbed his chin, then silently communicated with the system.
"System. The 'Arms Queen' mission is complete. Hand over the reward."
[…]
"Is Svetlana the only woman selling arms in the South Side?"
[...Yes]
"Has her arms business encountered any issues?"
[...No. The mission requirement is loyalty to you.]
William immediately spoke aloud.
"Svetlana—are you loyal to me?"
From Svetlana's perspective, William had just gone silent with a grim expression, then suddenly asked this question.
Her heart tightened.
She didn't hesitate.
"Boss, of course I'm loyal to you. After all, I don't really have a choice, do I?"
She paused, then added carefully,
"I don't think this is something you need to doubt—at least not right now."
William nodded.
"Very good."
He resumed communicating with the system.
"See? She admitted it herself. Stop wasting time and give me the reward."
There was barely disguised menace in his tone.
By now, William had figured out that the system was… flexible.
Its rules weren't absolute.
The only mystery left was its true objective.
[Ding! Congratulations, Host. Mission complete: Cultivate Svetlana into a South Side Arms Queen loyal to you.]
[Reward obtained: Arms Procurement Marketplace.]
As expected, under pressure, the system folded.
"Keep it up," William said as he stepped closer to Svetlana, giving her shoulder a slow, deliberate pat.
"You're doing well. I like what I see."
If she had to describe the feeling—
It was like being watched by a venomous snake.
Svetlana felt a chill crawl up her spine.
"Mandy," William said casually, "you and Svetlana keep an eye on her. I'll grab something from the car."
"Mm. Go ahead," Mandy replied, nodding.
William picked up the black plastic bag and left the room.
---
Inside the driver's seat of the black BMW, William didn't immediately take out the remaining weapons.
He first stored the cash in his inventory space, then opened the Arms Procurement Marketplace.
The interface was simple—almost bare.
Two buttons:
[Stock]
[Purchase]
Curious, William tapped [Stock] first.
[Ding! This function requires Sisyphus Module support. Please acquire the Sisyphus Module before use.]
William froze.
"System," he said slowly, "explain this 'stocking' function. Is it what I think it is?"
[Please clarify your understanding.]
Annoyed by the system's stiffness, William explained his guess:
Something along the lines of traveling across different worlds, scavenging weapons, and bringing them back to sell.
[Correct—but incomplete.]
[This function allows inter-world traversal and can unlock supply sources based on the host's performance in other worlds.]
[For details, please consult the Purchase interface.]
William immediately opened [Purchase].
The list was… short.
Only the M9, the M4A1, their corresponding ammunition, and a few types of grenades.
Exactly the same gear the system had previously rewarded him with.
"Why isn't my Peshawar special-issue S&W 745 on the list?" William asked.
[Firearms obtained through unofficial channels are not eligible for registration.]
At that moment, William finally understood what this marketplace was for.
A multiverse arms dealer.
A classic setup.
He knew the trope well—he'd read plenty of web novels before crossing over.
Now things were getting interesting.
This system was almost certainly one of those entities that plundered world origins or harvested fate and luck across dimensions.
Dangerous work.
But the rewards?
Enormous.