Jacob sat on one of the seats inside Conbucks, taking in the rich fragrance of coffee brewing at the counter. He gazed through the glass window, not because he was interested in the bustling life outside, but because an invisible system panel hovered in his vision—something only he could see.
---
[Name: Jacob Fox
Title(s): Shitstormer (effects apply)
Achievement(s): N/A
LVL: 3 (50/500)
AP: -117 (-100 + -33)
LAP: 15]
---
[STATS (9 PTS)]
Strength (STR): 18 (+2)
Physical power; affects melee damage and lifting capacity.
Dexterity (DEX): 12 (+2)
Speed, agility, and reflexes; critical for evasion and precision.
Intelligence (INT): 30 (+2)
Knowledge and analytical ability; boosts tech skills and problem-solving.
Endurance (END): 16 (+2)
Stamina and physical resistance; extends combat survivability.
---
Jacob stared at the panel, deep in thought. These were the stats he had accumulated from completing that dinner mission with the Hansen sisters. He had also gained enough experience points to reach level 3, which explained why he had 9 additional stat points on top of his mission rewards.
Rubbing his chin, Jacob tried to make sense of the current situation. After the call he'd made earlier, Sam still hadn't sent him any updates. He felt useless sitting here; it wasn't like he could waltz into Sam's villa to check on him. If anything, the subordinates of that shadowy organization were probably already crawling all over the place.
Looking around, Jacob noted how empty the café was—fewer patrons than usual. It was probably because of the time; most people were likely at work right now. Later, it would be packed with commuters heading home.
He sighed, trying to shake off the uneasiness rising within him. Ever since he had received the mission, he'd been grappling with a constant undercurrent of nervousness and fear. He was terrified—truly terrified. He had never faced something as daunting as an organized crime group, let alone a whole gang.
His thoughts drifted to Mason, and guilt twisted his gut. He hadn't wanted to involve him in this mess, but Mason's stubbornness left him no choice. Reluctantly, Jacob had given him an errand—something Jacob thought was relatively safe and wouldn't put Mason directly in harm's way. At least this way, his friend wouldn't be on the frontlines.
Ring!
The soft chime echoed through the café as the glass door swung open. Jacob's ears twitched at the sound, and he instinctively turned to look. A couple walked in, holding hands as they made their way toward the counter.
Jacob sighed in disappointment. Of course, it wasn't Sam and Emi. It would probably take them another half hour to get here, given that Sam's villa was several kilometers away. Jacob glanced at his fake Lerox watch, noting the time: 9:32 AM.
If his memory was correct, he had left Mason's place around 8:40. What's taking them so long? he thought. Pulling out his phone, he opened the Messages app and reviewed the text he had sent to Sam earlier.
---
[Jacob: Go to the Conbucks, westside of Sparrow. I'm sure you know where this is—you used to come here a few years ago.]
---
What a pity there was no read receipt to confirm if Sam had seen the message. All Jacob could do now was wait. Wait, and wait some more, praying that the two of them would make it out alive. If they didn't...
Jacob swallowed hard, his eyes drifting back to the system panel. His heart clenched as he stared at the mission penalty: Death.
Ring!
Jacob instinctively turned toward the glass door at the sound, his eyes widening as he recognized the figures entering. It was Sam and Emi, their entire bodies covered in dirt and dust, as though they had just crawled out of a battlefield.
"Over here!" Jacob waved, drawing their attention. The couple exchanged a quick glance before making their way toward him.
"Sorry for being late," Sam panted, gasping for air, his exhaustion written all over his face.
"Where have you been?" Jacob asked, his voice tinged with concern.
"When the villa was being built," Sam explained between breaths, "I had a team dig an underground tunnel. So when we got surrounded, we used it as an escape route."
Jacob raised an eyebrow, visibly impressed but not entirely surprised. "So you anticipated something like this happening?"
"I know what the boss is capable of, and I had no intention of underestimating him," Sam replied.
"I see," Jacob nodded, gesturing for them to sit. "Have a seat."
Emi silently pulled out a chair and sat across from Jacob, her face tense with worry. Sam followed, taking the chair beside her.
"What's the plan?" Sam asked immediately, his voice serious.
"To be honest, I still don't know," Jacob admitted with a shake of his head. "But… would you be willing to go to prison if it meant protection?"
"What?" Sam's brows furrowed, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "What are you talking about?"
"We can't run forever from whatever this organization is that you two used to belong to," Jacob explained. "But if you testify in court as a former member, your words could be the key to dismantling them. It might be the only way."
Sam shook his head, looking skeptical. "You don't understand. The Zero Organization has slithered out of legal traps before—like cockroaches. Most of the time, they come out completely unscathed."
"So that's a no, then?" Jacob asked, exhaling in frustration.
"Yeah," Sam replied firmly, before leaning closer, his voice lowering. "Unless… the police catch them in the act. If the government designates them as a terrorist group, that would be their downfall."
"Catch them in the act, huh?" Jacob repeated, his tone thoughtful. "How do we do that?"
Sam sighed, shaking his head. "There's no clear way to do that yet, but we can wait for an opportunity. The boss is hunting us down, which means he's sent members of the Zero after us."
"Fine, let's wait," Jacob sighed, only to be interrupted by a voice from outside, accompanied by the chime of the doorbell.
"Hey!"
Jacob and the couple simultaneously turned toward the source of the voice and saw Mason, his face beaming with a broad smile. Walking beside him was a man dressed in a blue uniform, an insignia gleaming on his chest. It was a police officer—and not just any officer. It was Officer Mike, the same man who had questioned Jacob at the hospital.
"A cop?" Sam muttered, his voice filled with disbelief. "What's a cop doing here?"
"Sam," Jacob said softly, a trace of guilt in his voice. "I'm so sorry, but I need to do this."
"What?" Sam's confusion turned to alarm as Officer Mike suddenly stepped forward, swiftly handcuffing him. Almost simultaneously, another officer entered the café and restrained Emi, snapping the cuffs onto her wrists.
"Sam Johnson and Emi Johnson," Officer Mike began, his tone formal yet laced with weariness. "You are under arrest on suspicion of robbing a bank. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you by the state."
"What's the meaning of this, Jacob!?" Sam roared, struggling against the cuffs as they tightened around his wrists.
"I'm really sorry," Jacob said, his expression heavy with sadness before it hardened into resolve. "But I had to do this."
Sam's fury was palpable as he glared at Jacob, veins pulsing in his neck. "You…!" he growled, thrashing in an attempt to break free.
But Officer Mike sneered, holding Sam firmly in place without flinching.
Mason approached Jacob hesitantly, his face pale with worry. "Are you sure this plan of yours will work?"
Jacob curled his lips into a faint, enigmatic smile. "Who knows?"