Bullets whistled past his head as Dolo ran like a demon through the neon-lit streets.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The gunshots echoed through the night. Terrified people screamed and threw themselves to the ground or ran desperately for cover behind cars and corners.
—There he is! Don't let him get away! —Kill him! That son of a bitch is heading for the alley!
Dolo zigzagged between the panicked civilians. One bullet shattered a store window right beside him, sending glass exploding everywhere. Another grazed his shoulder, leaving a burning trail down his arm.
His heart pounded violently in his chest, each beat louder than the last. He gasped for breath, short and desperate. This time, he realized, escape wouldn't come so easily.
He skidded around the corner and dove into the dark alley. The stench of rotting garbage and piss hit him like a slap to the face. He ran ten more meters… and froze.
Shit…
Dead end. A tall, dirty brick wall blocked his path. No fire escapes. No doors. No windows. Only overflowing dumpsters and rats scurrying through the shadows.
He spun around, struggling to catch his breath.
A group of armed men poured into the alley, blocking the only exit. They grinned with bloodlust, pistols still smoking in their hands.
—End of the line, master scammer, the biggest one said, holstering his gun and cracking his knuckles. —Time to pay for everything you stole.
Before they could rush him, bright headlights flooded the alley.
A sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom stopped at the entrance. The rear door opened slowly, and an elegant old man stepped out, leaning on a golden-headed cane.
Don Vittorio raised his hand calmly.
—Do it. —Beat the shit out of him. But don't kill him yet. I want him to feel what it's like to pay.
The thugs grinned like rabid dogs.
—With pleasure, Don!
The first punch came from the biggest one. It shattered Dolo's jaw with a sickening crack. White-hot pain exploded across his face. Then the storm hit.
Savage kicks broke three of his ribs one after another, the sound like dry branches snapping. A brutal boot to the stomach doubled him over, forcing him to vomit a thick stream of hot blood across the filthy ground. Punches smashed his nose; he felt the cartilage snap and blood flood his mouth and throat, choking him.
Dolo dropped to his knees and tried to shield his head, but it was useless. A knee slammed into his temple, and stars blurred his vision. They stomped on his left hand—bones shattered one by one with a wet, disgusting crunch. Red-hot knives seemed to drive into his back and kidneys with every vicious kick.
They beat his face repeatedly until it swelled so badly he could barely open his eyes. Blood streamed down his chin and pooled beneath him. Every breath was pure agony. He couldn't even scream anymore — only groan between broken teeth.
—Enough, Don Vittorio ordered calmly.
The beating stopped instantly.
Dolo lay on the ground like a broken doll, barely able to breathe. His face, a swollen, bloody mess, throbbed with agony. Several bones were shattered throughout his body, every nerve ending afire. He hovered a step away from death.
The old man approached slowly and looked down at him like a wounded stray dog.
—My little boy… You escaped so many times, huh? But tonight, I finally have you.
Dolo barely lifted his swollen head, eyes nearly shut from the swelling. Still, he managed a crooked, bloody smile.
—Don Vittorio… you old fuck…
Don Vittorio sighed and pulled a silver pistol from inside his coat.
—You stole millions from the casinos I controlled. Now I'll give you two clear options.
He crouched slightly, pressing the barrel directly against Dolo's forehead.
—Work for me… or I'll kill you right here like the rat you are and leave you with the trash.
Dolo, lying in the dirt with his face destroyed and mouth full of blood, let out a hoarse, painful laugh that made him spit a red streak onto the ground.
—Work for you?
Despite the agony ripping through his body, he raised his swollen head and stared straight into the old man's eyes with a defiant, twisted smile.
—I'd rather you put a bullet in my head than become your little bitch, you old piece of shit.
He spat more blood to the side and continued with a broken but venomous voice:
—If losing money hurt you that much, you shouldn't have owned those shitty casinos. What, you thought having money and thugs made you untouchable?
Dolo let out another weak laugh, almost drowning in his own blood.
—Go fuck yourself, Don Vittorio. You and your entire damn mafia.
One of the thugs stepped forward angrily.
—You son of a bitch! Show some respect to the Don!
But Don Vittorio raised a hand to stop him. He looked at Dolo with a mix of pity and contained rage.
—What a shame… I would've liked having you on my side. With that brain of yours, we could've gone far. We could've been untouchable in this world… But in the end, you were just an arrogant bird who locked himself in his own cage.
Dolo smiled, his split lips stained red with blood.
—Then pull the trigger already, old man… Because I'm not kneeling for anyone. Not even for you.
Don Vittorio stared at him for a few more seconds. Then he pressed the cold barrel firmly against Dolo's forehead.
—Last chance.
Dolo looked straight into the old man's eyes without blinking.
—Shoot already, you old bastard.
BANG!
The gunshot echoed through the alley.
Dolo's body collapsed heavily onto the dirty ground, a smoking hole in his forehead. Blood quickly spread beneath his head.
Total darkness.
Absolute silence.
Then a cold, mechanical voice spoke directly inside his mind:
[System activating…] [Reincarnation initiated.] [User selected: World of Falsía.] [Choose what creature you wish to become.]
What the fuck…?
Dolo's consciousness floated in nothingness. He felt no pain. Only confusion and rising panic.
I didn't die… Why am I still conscious? What the hell is going on?
[Automatic selection activated.] [The system will analyze the user's previous life and choose the most compatible race.]
[Analysis complete.] [Race selected: Tanuki.]
[Transporting in 3… 2… 1…]
A tanuki? What the hell is a tanuki? Why a fucking raccoon?
[The tanuki is a creature known for its cunning, deception, and ability to survive through tricks and intelligence rather than brute force. It matches the user's previous life perfectly: master scammer, professional cheater, someone who survived and thrived through lies, bluffs, and manipulation.]
You son of a bitch! You turned me into a raccoon because I was a scammer?
[Confirmed. The tanuki also possesses superior innate luck and great adaptability. Ideal for a user who wishes to become "the god of scammers."]
[Transport complete.]
Soft, warm light enveloped him.
The smell of damp forest, woodsmoke, and fresh earth filled his senses.
Slowly, Dolo opened his eyes.
His body was small, furry, and warm. Short stubby legs. A fluffy tail. He was lying in a simple wooden pen inside a humble house in an archaic village.
He was a baby tanuki.
A blue translucent screen floated in front of him:
[User: Dolo] [Abilities: None] [Intelligence: 5] [Strength: 3] [Speed: 2] [Luck: 10]
[Welcome to the World of Falsía.]
The baby tanuki blinked several times, processing everything that had just happened.
Then a low, familiar raspy laugh escaped from his tiny throat.
—Heh… A tanuki? Seriously?
His small black eyes gleamed with the same dangerous cunning he had carried in his previous life.
—Alright, you shitty system… I accept the joke.
—If you gave me this body because I was a scammer… then this time, I'm going to become the god of scammers.