The destination marker led him to an unexpected location, a hotel! On a street directly across from Sunny Beach stood a modest establishnt with a flickering pink neon sign reading "Beach Hotel" in cursive letters. This was both his mission destination and his character's temporary residence in Liberty City.
Following the helpful prompt that appeared on his screen, he returned to his rented room on the second floor, climbing the creaking stairs. Inside was a depressingly sparse space, a single bed with stained sheets, a chipped wooden bedside cabinet missing one handle, and a small, grimy window facing the noisy street below.
At that precise mont, his phone rang loudly.
"Hey! Tommy, long ti no see, old friend!" a voice bood.
The screen lit up brilliantly, revealing an absolutely ferocious face that made Boshita instinctively lean back. A white-furred werewolf grinned widely while video-calling him as Tommy Vercetti, but despite the smile, his expression was nacing, his eyes glinting dangerously.
"I get it, I get it, you're probably pretty emotional after just getting out," Sonny said with false understanding.
"Fifteen years behind bars... feels like it was just yesterday when I watched them drag you away."
"I don't think so, Sonny!" Tommy's voice ca out harder than Boshita intended.
"Hey now, I know taking one for the family isn't easy or pleasant, but we're family, understand? Blood is thicker than water," Sonny continued smoothly, though his tone was manipulative.
"So, how'd the deal go? You got those little goodies we needed, right?"
"Sonny, we were set up badly. There was a coordinated ambush waiting for us. Only Ken and I managed to escape alive," Tommy explained quickly, his words tumbling out.
"Are you joking with , Tommy? Please tell the money is at least still with you!" Sonny's voice suddenly rose sharply, his fur bristling visibly and his eyes turning murderous.
"...No, Sonny. I lost the money too," Tommy admitted reluctantly, rubbing his head in obvious frustration.
Sonny slamd the table so violently that the entire screen shook and pixelated montarily. He roared explosively, spittle nearly hitting the cara lens.
"What the hell, Tommy, that was MY money, MY MONEY! Do you understand what you've cost ?!"
"You'd better not ss with , because I'm not soone you want to ss with!" The threat was crystal clear and deadly serious.
Though Boshita didn't know the exact aning of every curse word, he absolutely knew they sounded nasty and threatening.
"Relax, Sonny, I promise I'll get both the money and the goods back," Tommy said with forced calm.
"I'll also find whoever orchestrated this ambush and hand him to you personally for punishnt."
"I already know you'll try. I know you're not stupid, Tommy, but don't take for a fool either," Sonny growled, his voice dropping dangerously low.
"If it were anyone else who lost my money, they'd already be dead and floating in the harbor."
"But because it's you, because we have history together, I'll give you ti to fix this ss."
"You'd better resolve this quickly, or history won't save you."
Before Tommy could respond, the screen went completely black. Sonny had hung up roughly without waiting for a reply.
Tommy angrily threw the phone toward the ground in frustration, though Boshita's player instincts made him regret it imdiately. The dramatic scene shifted perspective smoothly.
Boshita now roughly understood his character's desperate situation clearly. He'd lost a huge sum his boss had given him for an important deal, and now he had to systematically find out which criminal faction had set them up and recover the money quickly, or his paranoid boss would inevitably send soone to kill him. But everything about the ambush was unclear and mysterious, so he could only proceed carefully, taking it step by step.
He hurriedly picked up the phone from where it had fallen, genuinely relieved it wasn't broken or cracked. Lying back on the uncomfortable bed, his blue tail swishing thoughtfully behind him, he began planning his next moves carefully. He called Ken, who imdiately gave him an address, his office location downtown.
Boshita went outside and mounted the sleek Harley, admiring it again. This ti, he was considerably smarter about security; vehicles had keys in this ga, and he carefully removed the key when parking or leaving. When designing Liberty City's chanics, Alto had specifically patched this detail: unlike the original GTA, where cars mysteriously had no locks, vehicles now required proper keys or advanced lockpicking skills to steal. The protagonist's criminal background conveniently included both lockpicking and hot-wiring abilities.
Previously, Boshita hadn't pulled the key out after parking, which was exactly why his first car got stolen so easily.
He inserted the key and started the bike. The engine rumbled deeply and powerfully. Twisting the throttle aggressively, the motorcycle shot forward through the neon-lit streets toward Ken's office.
Ken stood anxiously behind his cluttered desk, round glasses perched on his nose, eyes absolutely bloodshot from exhaustion and stress.
"You still had the nerve to sleep?!" he shouted imdiately upon seeing Tommy.
"I've been drinking coffee all night! All night! Do you understand the position we're in?!"
He paced anxiously back and forth, his movents jerky and nervous. If the money wasn't recovered soon, Sonny would definitely co after him too as an accomplice, guilty by association.
Then he pulled out an elegant invitation from his desk drawer. Ken maintained useful connections throughout Liberty City's social circles despite his shady clientele. He knew a retired colonel nad Juan who was hosting an exclusive yacht party on Saintheart Lake this weekend.
Since Ken was completely overwheld with damage control and couldn't attend himself, he gave the valuable invitation to Boshita to use instead. Maybe eting local elites and brokers would provide crucial clues; the ambush must involve so established faction operating in the East District with resources and intel.
But before attending such a high-society event, Ken strongly suggested changing into appropriate formal clothes rather than showing up in street wear.
At the upscale clothing store Ken directed him to, dazzling designer outfits hung everywhere on gleaming racks, but even the cheapest acceptable suit cost 1000 cash minimum, and the truly nice ones were several tis that.
Boshita had absolutely no money.
So...
[Cash 125]
[Cash 270]
[Cash 211]
[Cash 160]
[You obtained: Dagger]
[You obtained: Enchanted Shock Baseball Bat]
[Combat EXP increased]
[Level Up! Attributes increased.]
He clapped his hands together, dusting them off while looking down at the various street thugs now lying groaning on the ground around him.
Boshita felt very satisfied with his efficient work. This honestly counted as righteously punishing evil and collecting a small, but reasonable "education fee" from criminals, so really, he was doing society a favor. Unfortunately for the nearby neighborhoods, every single suspicious thug he encountered during his fundraising walk got thoroughly beaten without rcy.
Local cri rates probably improved dramatically overnight thanks to his efforts.
The thugs were frustratingly poor, though, barely carrying any money individually. But quantity eventually made up for quality. Soon, he'd accumulated 1500 cash total, and his character's strength had improved noticeably from leveling up through combat.
He hefted the enchanted baseball bat experintally in his hand, watching small sparks of crackling lightning dance along its surface nacingly. So thugs had been genuinely strong opponents, like that massive orc kid who'd originally wielded this very bat; that particular fight had been surprisingly tough and required his entire focus.
But now, after his hard-fought victory, the powerful bat belonged to him.
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