Viktor shoved the glowing menu out of his face with an angry swipe—whether it was real or not, he had no time to process death warnings right now. Pushing back his chair, he shot to his feet and stormed out of the restaurant.
The moment he swung open the heavy wooden door, the sight that met his eyes stole the air from his lungs.
"Whoa..."
The street outside was a seamless blend of futuristic elegance and urban bustle. Cars of all shapes and sizes glided smoothly along the pristine roads—sleek Teslas, roaring Ferraris, and McLarens with bodies so shiny they looked dipped in liquid metal.
Above him, drones flitted silently through the air like mechanical hummingbirds, delivering packages or simply patrolling the skies. People walked purposefully, faces buried in holographic screens or minding their own business, not sparing Viktor so much as a glance.
This place...is incredible.
Viktor's awe was short-lived. As he stepped further onto the sidewalk, a woman in a fitted pencil skirt slammed into his side, nearly knocking him off balance.
"Watch where you're going, dumbass!" she snapped, barely turning her head as she strutted off on heels that clicked like a metronome.
Viktor bit down the instinct to bark something back. Instead, his face twisted in frustration. 'Lady, I just woke up in a game world, got told my stats suck, and got threatened with death. I think bumping into me is the least of your problems.'
Still, he clenched his jaw and forced himself to let it go. He didn't need to start fights with random strangers. Not yet, anyway.
Out of habit, Viktor planted his hands on his waist. His fingers slid lower, grazing his pockets.
Something cold and metallic caught his attention.
"What's this?"
He fished the object out and found himself holding a car key. It looked advanced—sleek, compact, and polished, with a single button for locking and unlocking. His car key.
Viktor's excitement skyrocketed. "No way..."
He turned toward the lineup of cars parked in front of the restaurant, his grin widening. A Tesla Model S sat gleaming under the sunlight. Next to it was a Lamborghini Huracán, its sharp angles practically slicing the air. There was also a jet-black Ferrari LaFerrari, a Rolls-Royce Phantom, and even a limited-edition McLaren P1.
Viktor's heart raced. One of these beauties has to be mine.
His thumb pressed the unlock button with eager anticipation.
Beep-beep!
The sound came from behind him.
Slowly, painfully, Viktor turned around. There, in a less glamorous row of vehicles, sat a dusty silver sedan—something between an early-2000s Toyota Camry and the kind of car your uncle buys when he's "making better life choices." It beeped again, its dull headlights flickering in confirmation.
Viktor groaned so loudly a passing man shot him a confused look.
'Of course. The trash heap in the corner. A perfect fit for my stellar career.'
Still grumbling, he approached the car. To his surprise, the interior wasn't as bad as the exterior suggested. The seats were clean, the dashboard gleamed, and there was even a state-of-the-art touch screen mounted in the center console. Viktor couldn't help but grudgingly admit, "Alright...it's not total crap."
Sliding into the driver's seat, he gripped the wheel and exhaled. He didn't know what was waiting for him, but sitting in a car—his car—gave him some semblance of control.
His next problem, however, stared him straight in the face.
"Where...is my house?"
Viktor ran a hand through his dark hair, frustrated. He didn't remember where Viktor Montez lived. But then he noticed the screen in the car lighting up. The last destination appeared as a highlighted address.
"Well, here's hoping it's not some shady back alley," he muttered as he started the engine.
The car hummed to life, smooth and quiet. As he followed the GPS directions, the city around him stretched in every direction. Towering skyscrapers adorned with digital billboards loomed overhead, casting long shadows across the roads. Everything looked cleaner, shinier—like someone had photoshopped the world into perfection.
When he finally arrived at the address, Viktor parked on the curb and stepped out, his gaze fixed on the small house in front of him.
It wasn't what he expected. The place was tidy but unremarkable—plain white walls, a narrow driveway, and small windows. He dug into his pockets for the keys and frowned. None of the house keys matched the key holder in his hand.
"Seriously?" Viktor muttered. "Then whose house is this?" His eyes immediately caught the name Janet hanging by the door. He knew he was at the wrong place.
Just as he was about to head back to the car, the door swung open.
A woman stood in the doorway.
Viktor's jaw nearly hit the pavement.
She was hot. Not just pretty—hot. Her thick, shapely thighs led to hips that curved like they were sculpted. She wore casual shorts and an oversized sweater that somehow made her look even better. Her face was heart-shaped, smooth skin glowing, lips curled into a faint, teasing smile.
Her amber eyes widened. "Viktor? You're back already?"
Viktor froze. He scrambled for words but couldn't find any.
She cocked her head. "What, are you done with your manager?"
The question caught him off guard. He hesitated before blurting out, "Uh... yeah. Yeah, I am."
Her brow arched, unconvinced. "Okay. So why are you back here and not at your place in Silverpoint Meadows?"
'Silverpoint Meadows?' Viktor's brain stalled. He had no clue where that was. But instead of admitting it, his mouth worked faster than his mind.
"I, uh... just came by to see your pretty face again."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Viktor blinked in shock. Did I really just say that?
The woman—Janet, judging by the nameplate beside her door—actually blushed. She gave a short laugh, brushing her hair back. "Well, you've seen me now. So you can get going."
"Right," Viktor said, nodding awkwardly. He turned and started back toward his car, fighting to keep his cool.
'Who the hell is she?' he wondered. Was she his girlfriend? A friend? A sister? She clearly wasn't his mother—thank God—but it didn't make things any clearer.
Still, as he slid back into the car, he couldn't help but smirk to himself. "At least this wasn't a total waste of time. I got a name and a clue."
The car's map interface reactivated, and Viktor punched in Silverpoint Meadows. The screen lit up with a new route, marking a small icon for what appeared to be a frequently visited location.
"Finally," Viktor muttered.
He shifted into drive, gripping the wheel tightly. At least now he had a direction—something to work with.