Five minutes before the gunshots...
"Excuse me, sir, can I ask you a question?"
Ken, his hands still bound, calmly addressed his captor. The man was sitting across from him, his feet casually resting on the table, absentmindedly playing with his gun.
The man turned his gaze towards him, a playful smile tugging at his lips, before shrugging his shoulders.
"Ah, my little guy... I thought you were calm, but you're actually quite the chatterbox, huh? Sorry, but I can't answer your questions."
Damn... don't say that while pointing your gun at me, you bastard.
Despite the palpable tension, Ken remained calm. He stared the man in the eyes and, with a steady but determined voice, said:
"I know I'm going to die soon. At least give me the privilege of knowing why. Why am I dying?"
The man stretched out in his chair, a mischievous smile forming on his face.
"I guess it's because you're just unlucky."
Ken, unfazed, responded with unrelenting coldness:
"That's not an answer."
The man burst into laughter.
"HAHAHA, you're a funny one."
He studied Ken, as if searching for a crack in his calm demeanor.
"I can see it in your eyes… this situation doesn't scare you, huh?"
Ken kept his gaze steady, unreactive, but inside, his mind was racing.
Answer me.
Amused by Ken's indifference, the man sighed.
"Pfff, it's not even funny anymore… The reason is very simple. Madam is a scientist. I don't know all the details, but apparently, she's working on a project that requires a human experiment. And you, my friend, have been chosen by fate as the apostle to advance human technology."
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The man sarcastically applauded, his face twisting into an expression of madness.
"Congratulations. Congratulations…"
A heavy silence filled the room. Ken was frozen, his thoughts swirling, but his face remained impassive.
The man continued, his voice slower now, almost devoid of enthusiasm.
"Madam is rich enough to hire people willing to do this kind of thing. But from what I know, she never buys… anything useless."
He paused, then concluded, his tone almost theatrical:
"There, you know everything. Naturally, after doing a service, I need compensation. What are you giving me in return?"
The weapon was now aimed at Ken.
But Ken, though outwardly calm, was lost in a whirlwind of confused thoughts. His mind wandered through memories of old films, mad scientists, and forbidden experiments.
These crazy bastards, is that what they want to make me?
But wait... do mad scientists really do this kind of experiment?
Outside, he appeared frozen, stoic. But inside, it was chaos.
Argh... damn it.
He sighed deeply, his breathing slow but heavy.
I'm going to go through something worse than death if things go as planned.
He closed his eyes for a moment, centering himself.
I've already lost everything. I'm nothing now.
A subtle, almost imperceptible grin formed on his lips.
I have nothing left to lose now. So I'm going to bet everything on you, Blue.
(He had lazily named the blue interface "Blue" instead of bothering to look up its real name.)
With a nearly imperceptible movement, Ken activated his instinct, and immediately, an attack plan took shape in his mind, clear and precise. He flashed a slight smirk.
Fuck this fucking world.
Ken slowly opened his mouth, his eyes locking onto the man who was aiming his Desert Eagle at him. He wasn't afraid, not this time.
"Would becoming handicapped for life in both hands be enough payment for you?"
The man seemed initially surprised, his eyes widening at the question. But that surprise lasted only a few seconds before turning into a smug, almost amused smile.
"Ha…"
His laughter quickly faded, replaced by an icy coldness. The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly, as if time itself had frozen. The man stared Ken straight in the eyes, his gaze as sharp as a blade.
"You're really different, huh…" he said, in a tone that was half-amused, half-crazy. "You're funny, I'll give you that. But I think I'm going to regret not being able to deliver you to the doctor."
His smile widened before transforming into a chilling expression. No more trace of joking, just a palpable threat. The gun aimed at Ken remained unmoving, each second of waiting an eternity.
"You really think I can't kill you right now?" the man asked, his voice lower, more threatening.
Without flinching, Ken replied in a voice that betrayed an absolute mastery of the situation:
"No, you can't."
The silence that followed was heavy. The man, apparently disturbed by this response, squinted his eyes as if searching for a flaw in Ken's stoic gaze.
Ken, however, did not blink. In his mind, everything was clear. He had already played his cards. He wasn't relying on luck anymore, but on his expertise. He had gone from being a victim to becoming an unrelenting strategist.
The man, disturbed, hesitated for a moment. Then he sat up slightly, showing a predatory grin.
"Hmmm... I forgot one detail. The doctor needs a human, dead or alive. So... do you still want to continue this conversation?"
Ken felt his heart race faster, but he showed no sign of it. He stared at the barrel of the gun, his mind working at a fever pitch. Every movement of the man, every word, every hesitation became a target to seize.
In a calm voice, colder than ever, he retorted:
"I think being handicapped in both hands will be more than enough for you to understand."
A twisted smirk distorted the man's face. He burst into laughter, but this laugh was the laugh of a predator. He leaned forward, tongue out, his eyes filled with a sadistic gleam.
"Well, you've made your choice."
He moved his weapon closer to Ken, one final motion before uttering one last phrase.
"We'll see each other in hell, my friend."
Ken felt the pressure build as the man aimed the Desert Eagle at his forehead. His hands were still bound, but thanks to the "Expert in CQC" skill granted by the system, he knew he had a chance. Since the beginning of this confrontation, he had been discreetly using his skills to test the ropes binding him. The quick and precise movements that "Expert in CQC" instilled in his brain allowed him to search for a weakness in his restraints.
The man, visibly impatient, aimed the gun with cold determination and fired.
Bang
The sound of the shot filled the air, but Ken had anticipated this moment. In an instant, he had freed his wrists, and the bullet grazed his face as he lunged forward. His reflexes were sharpened, each movement quick and precise thanks to the system's expertise. He rolled on the ground to avoid another shot...
Bang
...and got back up, dodging two more shots with extraordinary agility.
The fourth shot was fired...
Bang
...but Ken was already mere inches from the man. With a brutal move, he grabbed the weapon and, in one fluid motion, forced the man to fire in an uncontrollable direction.
Bang
In the blink of an eye, Ken used his free wrist to grab the assailant's arms and with a sharp jerk, broke both his hands in one swift motion. The man screamed, his weapon falling to the floor, while Ken remained calm and unrelenting.
But that was from the outside.
Rather than the confusion in his thoughts, Ken felt a certain excitement seeing his captor, once so haughty, now writhing in agony on the floor.
When he finally realized what he had just done, he thought:
Damn…
I did that?
His eyes sparkled with excitement, and a half-smile formed on his lips.
"CQC is crazy, cousin."
---
As the seven men rushed toward the small room from where the gunshots had come, a sleek but discreet black car stopped abruptly in front of the warehouse. The rear door opened, and a tall man in a black jacket quickly stepped out, glancing around him before positioning himself near the car. On the other side, a slim and confident silhouette appeared: a young woman, breathtakingly beautiful, with short black hair speckled with freckles. She had an almost unreal air, as young as Ken, but with unparalleled grace and femininity.
The second man, also imposing, exited the car with a determined gait. But before they could even prepare, the lady stepped forward with a confident stride, her gaze already fixed on the warehouse.
She addressed her guards in a calm voice, but one filled with charisma:
"It seems lively in there."
The two men, visibly worried, drew their weapons, but one of them tried to stop her, speaking urgently:
"Madam, please, stay here. We'll see what's going on."
But she didn't even look at him. Without another word, she walked resolutely toward the warehouse. Her smile widened, almost mischievous.
"No, this looks interesting. Let's go."
She entered with a certain lightness, a gleam of curiosity in her eyes, her thoughts already in motion: This could be my new toy causing all this ruckus. Interesting.