The air in the city felt heavier than usual.
Lin Chen sat by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his high-rise office at Polaris Holdings, sipping black coffee that had long since gone cold. The view below, a mesh of lights and movement, usually gave him a sense of control. But tonight, it only mirrored the storm building within the capital market.
Something was wrong.
The System had been quiet since the last mission, but Lin Chen's instincts screamed louder than ever. His name had become a whisper among the elite—first spoken in awe, then in jealousy, and now… in fear. And fear, he knew, often gave birth to violence.
DING—SYSTEM ALERT:
Kill Order Detected.
Issued by: Confidential Capital Circle (E-Class Access)
Associated Network: EREBVS Financial Division
Threat Level: EXTREME
New Module Unlocked: [Threat Proximity Radar] – 72 Hours Duration
Lin Chen's eyes narrowed.
"Kill order…" he muttered. "So they're done playing games."
He tapped the table, the cold ring of porcelain against wood echoing like a war drum. Erebus—the ghost organization that had orchestrated countless market collapses, corporate overthrows, and currency wars—had noticed him. Not just noticed, but marked him.
Polaris Holdings had risen too fast, too clean. It was a beacon in a world of shadows, and Erebus hated light.
The System's threat module activated silently, overlaying his AR vision with faint, glowing red silhouettes scattered across the city map. Lin Chen counted six "probables" within the vicinity of the upcoming Global Capital Forum he'd agreed to attend tomorrow.
If it was a trap, it was a beautifully baited one.
He smirked. "Then let's go hunting."
The Global Capital Forum had always been a masquerade. Beneath layers of formal speeches, corporate handshakes, and investor smiles lay a pit of serpents—each wearing a suit more expensive than the last. Lin Chen arrived wearing a bespoke black suit, his name now known by every other table at the ballroom.
But his gaze wasn't on the glamour.
[Threat Proximity Radar Active – Scanning]
The System highlighted two figures in amber—medium threat. One, a Swiss banker with Erebus-aligned funds; the other, a Hong Kong venture capitalist whose portfolio had uncanny gaps. But neither matched the signature the System warned of.
Then he saw him.
A man, tall and lean, with a glass of red wine and a devil's smile. Hair slicked back, eyes too bright for someone in finance. The name tag read: Silas Morn.
[Target Match: 82.9% probability – Codename: Hunter]
System readouts showed erratic transaction trails tied to economic sabotage, silent bankruptcies, and the recent mysterious fall of a rival holding company Lin Chen had nearly acquired.
This was him.
The capital hitman.
Silas approached like a ghost in human form. His voice was velvet, accent hard to place—mid-Atlantic, maybe, or a fabrication.
"You must be Lin Chen," he said. "It's rare to meet someone who creates shockwaves without breaking a sweat."
Lin Chen smiled politely, his inner systems already mapping out the nearest exits, comms jammers, and escape routes.
"I only respond to the market," he replied coolly. "It tells me when to rise, and when others are about to fall."
A slow chuckle. "That's poetry. And dangerous poetry, if you ask the wrong people."
They clinked glasses.
Two wolves in a room full of sheep.
By the time Lin Chen returned to his office later that night, Polaris Biotech, one of his most promising subsidiaries, had suffered a mysterious data breach. News alerts buzzed on every device—"Security Flaws Detected in Polaris Holdings!" screamed one headline.
His net worth plummeted by 7%.
[System Alert: Coin Value Fluctuation Detected – Artificial Manipulation Suspected]
Silas had struck.
Lin Chen didn't panic. Instead, he opened his black ledger and poured 50,000 system gold coins into two temporary boosts:
Market Prediction Protocol Lv.2 – Active
Computational Focus Surge (24 hours) – Active
Within thirty minutes, he identified the three shell companies funneling manipulated trades. An invisible short-selling maneuver had been triggered while most of Asia slept. But he was awake—and furious.
With one flick, he froze all outbound trades.
With the next, he opened a fake bidding war on his biotech division—drawing attention back and flushing out the short sellers. The market believed a rebound was coming. Prices surged.
By morning, Polaris Biotech wasn't bleeding—it was reborn.
And Silas?
Gone.
But not before leaving a trace.
[System Analysis: Unknown Encryption Packet Detected]
Lin Chen opened the message in a quarantined sandbox environment.
"You've danced well for someone new to the stage."
"But you're not the only one with a system."
— Omega
His blood ran cold.
Someone else out there… had a system?
And they knew about his.
The room felt smaller. Shadows lengthened. For the first time in weeks, Lin Chen felt the edge of fear—not for himself, but for the bigger game.
Was he the hunter… or just another player in a far deeper plan?
He stared at the message for a long time, then deleted it.
The war had just escalated.