Perhaps it was the terrifying display of lethal precision Hunter had just unleashed, but no one dared to follow him.
He walked out of the Bellagio without a single security guard trying to stop him, leaving broken bones and bleeding men in his wake.
A short distance from the grand hotel, the famous Bellagio fountains danced in the night.
Hunter stopped near the edge of the massive illuminated pool and lit a cigarette. He took a slow drag, his mind sifting through the cinematic universe to place a name like Terry Benedict.
During his time at the tables, he had overheard the high rollers whispering about the man.
Terry Benedict was one of the apex predators of Las Vegas.
He owned three major properties on the Strip, the crown jewel being the Bellagio.
It was not just a five-star luxury resort. It housed one of the largest and most lucrative casinos in the world.
Rumor had it the Bellagio alone processed seventy to eighty million dollars a day.
During national holidays, that number could easily double.
Every year, this single hotel funneled hundreds of millions in pure profit directly into Terry's pockets.
Ms. Perkins had not yet disclosed the details of her assassination contract in Vegas.
Because he was flying blind and had not bothered to use a disguise before hitting the tables, Hunter had restrained himself. He had only broken bones instead of snapping necks.
Despite the minor confrontation, his mood was excellent. The sudden surge of skill experience points was well worth the trouble.
Hunter finished his cigarette. He was just about to head back to his own hotel when his instincts flared.
A prickling sensation crawled up his spine.
He was being watched.
Hunter calmly crushed the cigarette butt under his heel. He stretched his arms like a tired tourist, using the motion to casually sweep the area with his eyes.
He saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Yet the heavy weight of those invisible gazes remained locked onto him.
Frowning slightly, Hunter turned and began the walk back to his hotel.
He did not rush. He maintained a steady, relaxed pace while his heightened senses actively probed the shadows, tracking the feeling of being hunted.
The surveillance lasted all the way back to his suite.
To his genuine surprise, he could not pinpoint a single tail. Whoever was tracking him was operating at a masterclass level.
"Interesting."
Hunter initially assumed Terry Benedict had sent some of his ghosts to shadow him.
He did not care about the casino mogul's inevitable retaliation, but he was fascinated by the sheer skill of the trackers who had managed to evade his detection.
He set the fast food he had bought on the way back down on the living room table.
Hunter quietly opened the bedroom door. Ms. Perkins was still dead to the world.
Satisfied, he accessed his [Inventory]. He pulled out the specific suppressed firearms and tactical gear she had requested earlier and arranged them neatly in the suite.
Returning to the living room, Hunter pulled out his laptop. He was about to log onto an online poker site to grind a few more hands when his burner phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen. Unknown number.
Very few people in this world had this line. Whether it was a wrong number or a threat, Hunter did not hesitate. He answered.
"Speak."
"It is Diana."
Hunter paused. He had not expected to hear from the stunning, icy handler since their brief encounter in New York nearly a week ago.
Curious, he leaned back against the couch. "Why the sudden call? Do you need something?"
"You are in Las Vegas right now. Correct?"
"I am."
"I have a private contract. This is strictly off the books, not affiliated with the Continental Hotel. Are you interested?"
Hunter narrowed his eyes. Diana had pinpointed his exact location with alarming speed.
He still did not know who truly held her leash. She could be operating for the International Contract Agency, or she might be a high-ranking asset for Syndicate International.
Whatever shadow organization backed her, their intelligence network was terrifying.
He swallowed his irritation at being tracked. He settled deeper into the sofa, finding a comfortable position.
"What is the job? And what is the payout?"
"Six million dollars. One target."
"For someone with your specific talents, it should be a walk in the park," Diana's voice was completely devoid of emotion.
Hunter calculated the angles for a brief second. "Done. Send the target's dossier to my email."
"Do not bother telling me you do not have the address."
Silence hung on the line for a brief moment before Diana replied. "Understood."
The call disconnected. Hunter tossed the phone aside, unbothered.
He connected his laptop to the hotel's encrypted network and logged into his usual online casino portal.
Pulling a hot beef burger from his [Inventory], he ate while mindlessly clicking through digital hands of poker.
Two hours bled away.
Hunter stared at his [Gambling] skill progression bar. The experience points were pathetic.
He had won almost every digital hand for two straight hours, yet the total XP earned was less than what he got from a single round of high-stakes Texas Hold'em at the Bellagio.
He lost all interest in the digital grind.
He made a decision. Even after completing Diana's contract and helping Perkins, he was not leaving Las Vegas immediately.
He was going to stay in this city of sin and grind his [Gambling] skill to the absolute maximum level.
Once he maxed it out, the system would reward him with a massive payout of free attribute points.
With those points, every single one of his core physical stats would permanently cross the threshold of being five times that of a normal adult male. He would become a true monster.
Abandoning the online casino, Hunter opened his secure inbox.
Just as expected, an encrypted email was waiting for him.
Hunter raised an eyebrow. The security prompt was a single security question.
"Time of our first meeting?"
Knowing Diana had sent it, Hunter did not hesitate. He typed in the exact six-digit date of their encounter in New York.
The encryption dissolved, revealing a detailed intelligence file.
The target was Willy Bank.
He was another Las Vegas casino titan, heavily backed by dangerous syndicates and notorious for his cutthroat business tactics.
Bank was infamous for his total lack of morality and his ruthless destruction of his rivals.
The dossier also highlighted a legendary quirk in the criminal underworld. Every time Willy Bank crushed a competitor and scored a massive windfall, he purchased a flawless, massive diamond to add to his wife's custom necklace.
According to Diana's intel, that single piece of jewelry was currently valued at two hundred and fifty million dollars.
Hunter rapidly scrolled through the encrypted files, a dangerous spark of interest igniting in his eyes.
With his near-photographic memory, he memorized the entire dossier in minutes.
He permanently deleted the email, wiping it from the server.
Opening a secure browser, Hunter began hunting for the target's weak points. The planning phase had begun.
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