Tuyệt vời! Đây là bản dịch chương có tiêu đề "Khoảnh Khắc Định Mệnh Trong Hẻm Tối":
Chapter: The Fateful Moment in the Dark Alley
My hand trembled as it rested on the cold emergency exit doorknob. The distance was now only 8 meters. Beyond this door, in the darkness, was a G17 handgun.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. The programmer's mindset resurfaced, trying to analyze the situation like an algorithm: Potential danger of the item falling into the wrong hands > Danger of recovering it myself > Probability of success > Escape plan...
But that rationality was being drowned out by the pounding of my heart and the surge of adrenaline.
No more time to think.
I slowly turned the doorknob, gently pulling the door open just a crack, enough to peek out.
The faint light from the streetlamps illuminated a small area behind the building. It wasn't a large courtyard, just a narrow space between concrete walls, filled with trash bins and some old maintenance equipment. The smell of dampness and garbage assailed my nostrils.
The System's arrow still pointed outward. Distance: 5 meters.
My eyes scanned the small, narrow area.
And then, I saw it.
Lying neglected on an old oil drum, amidst the trash and shadow, was a black object with an unmistakable shape.
A handgun.
It lay there, silent, as if it didn't belong in this world. The streetlight shone on it, making it gleam ominously.
Distance: 5 meters.
I stepped out of the emergency exit, gently closing the door behind me. Every step on the concrete floor was taken as softly as possible, as if fearing to disturb something invisible in the darkness.
3 meters.
My heart pounded like a drum. The feeling of intense worry and anticipation. This was the first time I had approached a 'Drop Item'. The first time I had come near a real gun.
I reached the oil drum. The gun lay there. Up close. Dull black, heavy, with sharp lines. It was a G17. Exactly like the ones I saw in games.
I reached out my hand. My hand trembled.
Distance: 0.5 meters.
My eyes fixed on the gun, I looked around the area. Deserted. Only darkness, trash bins, and cold walls. It seemed no one else had detected this small 'Drop'.
I bit my lip. Just one more step...
Reaching out, my fingers touched the cold metal of the gun.
...So cold.
The tactile sensation was so real, completely different from touching a mouse or keyboard. This was a real object, with weight, with substance. And it was a tool for killing.
I gripped the G17 tightly. Heavy. Heavier than I imagined.
At that exact moment, as I just took hold of the gun...
From a distance, I heard the wail of a police siren. This time, much closer than before.
And at the same time, a small "shake" sensation transmitted through the System.
[Warning: Authorities are approaching the 'Drop' area.]
Damn it!
No more time to think. I had to act now.
System! Transfer to Spatial Inventory! Quick!
I commanded with my consciousness, my voice panicked.
[Command confirmed. Item 'Handgun: G17' has been transferred to Spatial Inventory.]
A strange feeling. The gun in my hand suddenly... disappeared. It didn't drop, it wasn't pulled away. It simply... wasn't there anymore. Like an object in a game being moved into the inventory.
My hand was empty.
But the police sirens were getting closer. I heard a car stop. Car doors opening. The sound of running footsteps, talking on radios.
"Unit 3 has arrived at the scene. No target detected. Requesting search support."
"Understood. Unit 5 is en route."
They were searching. Right nearby!
Retreat! Retreat now!
I turned, rushing back towards the emergency exit door. No more cautious tiptoeing. My steps were hurried, trying not to make too much noise as best I could.
I slipped through the crack of the door, back into the stairwell. The door closed behind me with a small "click".
My heart pounded in my chest, threatening to leap out. My breath was ragged. I pressed myself into a dark corner of the stairwell, looking through the small window towards the area I had just been in.
Flashlights swept across the small backyard area. Two uniformed police officers were carefully searching among the trash bins and maintenance equipment. I didn't recognize them. Not Inspector Tanaka or Officer Suzuki. This was a rapid response team or local patrol.
"Nothing here, Captain."
"That's strange. The report from the Item Monitoring System was very clear. An item of type A, weapon category, 'dropped' at these coordinates a few minutes ago."
"Maybe someone already picked it up?"
"Possible. Check the surrounding area. Pay attention to building entrances and exits. Watch out for witnesses or suspects."
They continued searching, shining flashlights everywhere. I held my breath, pressing deeper into the darkness. Watching them search where, just seconds ago, a G17 had lain in my hand...
The feeling was a mix of extreme tension and a strange victory. I did it. I recovered it.
My hand still felt numb, as if retaining the coldness of the gun metal.
In the System's Spatial Inventory, I knew it was there. A G17. The first 'Drop' item I had recovered myself.
The police were still searching outside. The static from their radios crackled.
I stood there in the darkness, a 16-year-old girl, who had just pulled off an unexpected "heist".
This world... it truly was changing. And I, Yuuka Hatsumina, had officially stepped one foot into the underground world of 'Drop' items and the dangers that came with them.
I had a gun in my "inventory".
Now... what to do with it?