City 403 wasn't just a metropolis of steel and glass. After Shoran Left Jerry start his own Mission.
Jerry had only been in the city for 2 days, but in that time, he had set into motion an inferno of blood, chaos. The construction of his Isekai Club was not the only thing keeping him busy. No, in fact, his most important task at the moment was to make sure the entire city was under his control.
The people here didn't know who Jerry truly was, nor would they ever. To them, They didn't understand why he is so interested in this city. His Phone is ringing all the time since yesterday. his secretary handling all the calls. Before He thought it would be easier to take control over the city. As this city belong to a third grade world like earth. He thought Money would solve the problem. but turns out this matter really needed blood. He needed to take it by force.
The 2nd night in City 403, Jerry's security team reported a raid on his construction site. A rival faction, one of the local underworld families, had gotten wind of his activities and decided to take a piece of the action. They thought they could intimidate him, perhaps scare him off.
But Jerry didn't scare easily.
He was standing in his office high above the construction site when the alarms went off. His fingers hovered over the console, but instead of panic, he felt an odd satisfaction. It was time to send a message.
"Shut down the construction, bring me the leader," Jerry ordered, his voice cold.
His team moved swiftly, armed to the teeth with weapons. They descended on the site like shadows, surrounding the intruders before they even had time to react. The rival gangsters weren't prepared for this level of force—pulse rifles, anti-material laser guns, and energy shields—weapons that could tear through steel and flesh with ease.
The first few shots rang out.
The gangsters, armed with basic handguns and makeshift energy blasters, tried to fight back, but the firepower Jerry's team brought was overwhelming. They tried to scatter, but it was useless. One by one, they were picked off by precision shots.
A figure appeared in the chaos—a man in a black suit, holding a lightning-fast plasma sword. He was the leader. He swung his sword with the speed of a seasoned warrior, cutting down one of Jerry's men. But before he could take another step, a red dot appeared on his chest.
A sniper's shot.
He never saw it coming. The plasma sword fell from his grip, and his body slumped to the ground in a heap.
Jerry didn't waste any time. He stepped out of his office, calmly walking toward the leader's body. His eyes scanned the fallen men, some still twitching from their wounds, others already dead.
"Pack them up," Jerry muttered to his men. "And make sure the message gets out. City 403 belongs to me now."
The next day, the streets of City 403 were bathed in blood. The word had spread that Jerry had eliminated a major underworld boss in the city. The gang factions didn't take kindly to this, and before long, a full-scale war had erupted.
Every corner of the city was a battleground. Rival gangs started fighting for control of the lucrative areas that Jerry had taken interest in. But Jerry wasn't just sitting back and letting it happen.
He was building and fighting at the same time.
Jerry's focus remained split between the construction of the Isekai Club, which was now a target for sabotage, and the fight for control over City 403.
At the construction site, his security was constantly under attack. Rival gangs tried to infiltrate, planting explosives, sabotaging machinery, and even sending assassins to kill Jerry's men. But Jerry had anticipated this. His security system was designed to handle these kinds of attacks.
In one particularly brutal encounter, a bomb went off in the lower levels of the construction site. Jerry had been on the upper floors, overseeing the installation of the last of the World Tree wood when the explosion shook the building. The blast sent a shockwave through the floors, and debris rained down on the workers.
The gang responsible, a group called the Blackclaw Syndicate, thought they had made their mark. But they were wrong.
Jerry's response was swift.
He activated the building's automated defense systems—turrets, energy barriers, and shockwave generators. The Blackclaw Syndicate's men were torn apart in a matter of seconds. Their bodies hit the floor, but they never had the chance to react. Jerry stood there, watching through the surveillance screens, his face stoic.
The blast from the bomb had caused some structural damage, but Jerry didn't mind. He had always intended to reinforce the building with military-grade armor. In fact, he was secretly glad that the Syndicate had provided him the perfect opportunity to test it.
Just as Jerry thought he had put down the local gangs, the Metropolitan City—the more powerful, distant factions—stepped into the fray.
The Metropolis wasn't just a city; it was a corporate stronghold that governed several regions, including City 403. They had heard about Jerry's rise to power, and they weren't about to let some guy take over.
The Metropolitan Faction dispatched an elite squad of mercenaries to claim control of City 403. They had the best equipment, the most advanced tactics, and a reputation for being ruthless. Jerry, however, wasn't afraid. He had expected this.
At the Isekai Club construction site, a helicopter dropped down, and dozens of heavily armored soldiers poured out. Their pulse rifles were equipped with armor-piercing rounds, and they moved in formation.
"Get ready," Jerry ordered, his eyes cold. "We're not letting them walk out of here."
The battle began in an instant. The mercenaries were highly trained, but they didn't have the advanced weapons Jerry's men did. It was like hunting in a fish tank. Jerry's men had a distinct advantage in both technology and firepower.
Explosions rocked the ground as both sides exchanged fire. Laser beams and plasma bolts lit up the night. The construction site, already in ruins from the previous skirmishes, became a war zone.
Jerry personally led a charge toward the Metropolitan leader, a man named Harrison. He was tall, with an icy gaze and an intimidating presence. But Jerry had no time for fear.
As he advanced, Jerry activated his plasma gun, firing blasts of concentrated energy at the enemy soldiers. One by one, they fell to the ground, their suits disintegrating under the sheer power of Jerry's weapons.
Harrison, seeing Jerry's determination, ran forward, drawing his energy sword.
"You think you can beat me?" Harrison snarled. "I'm a product of the Metropolis! We've crushed worlds."
Jerry just smirked.
"Well, Harrison," Jerry said, "this world's already mine."
In a flash of light, Jerry lunged, using his power-enhanced combat skills to disarm Harrison and stab him through the chest with a vibro-blade—a weapon that vibrated at a frequency that tore through any material.
As Harrison crumpled to the floor, the rest of the Metropolitan mercenaries began to retreat. The war was over. Jerry had won this battle.
With the Metropolis dealt with, Jerry turned his attention back to the local underworld. The city was now a chaotic battlefield, with gang wars erupting in every corner. Jerry's men moved like shadows, silently eliminating rival bosses, taking over turf, and slowly eradicating the competition.
Every fight was violent. Every victory was sweet. But Jerry was never satisfied. He knew that control of City 403 meant more than just taking down a few rivals. He needed to eliminate the competition entirely.
By the end of Day 4, Jerry had already taken control of half the city. The gangs had been scattered, and many of the influential gang bosses were either dead or hiding. The local population was scared, unsure of who to trust. But they did trust one thing—Jerry.