In the small room on the first floor of Steve's villa, Hunter stared at the cara pointed directly at the doorway. His pupils constricted.
"Shit. A cara."
"I need to grab this and go. Fast."
He had applied makeup before coming. Even without the balaclava, most Westerners struggled to distinguish between different East Asian ethnicities, just as Asians often confused British, French, and German features. With the mask, identifying him by his eyes alone was impossible.
Still, he was wary of the owner.
Steve had betrayed his partners and killed a teammate in cold blood. He was ruthless.
Hunter wasn't here to fight. He was here for the money. Speed was key.
He reached out and placed his hand on one of the safes.
His confidence didn't co from a team or a complex plan. It ca from his System.
Specifically, the Personal Inventory.
Hunter had spent nearly two months testing its limits.
Ti Stasis: Food stored inside didn't spoil or change temperature.
Weight Negation: Regardless of mass, objects stored in the Inventory added zero encumbrance to his body. He had stored a motorcycle and a muscle car without feeling a thing.
Storage Condition: As long as he touched an object with his bare skin and it fit within the total volu (currently 70 cubic ters), it would vanish instantly.
This was his ace. He could steal a ton of gold solo because he didn't need to lift it.
He rolled up his sleeve, exposing his forearm.
To avoid leaving fingerprints, he had coated his palms in clear nail polish. But the Inventory required skin contact.
He pressed his bare forearm against the cold steel of the first safe.
Store.
With a thought, the massive safe vanished into thin air.
Hunter grinned.
But his smile froze instantly.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The mont the weight left the floor, a piercing alarm shattered the silence.
"A pressure plate!"
Hunter looked down. A chanical device rose from the floor where the safe had been. The alarm scread through the villa.
"He wired the floor!"
Hunter cursed. Steve was more paranoid than he expected.
He heard footsteps pounding down the stairs.
No ti to think.
He slapped his forearm against the second safe.
Store.
Another safe vanished. Another chanical clunk as a second trigger popped up.
The footsteps were getting louder.
"Run!"
Hunter sprinted for the front door.
He skidded to a halt.
A heavy alloy gate was descending rapidly, sealing the main entrance.
He glanced at the windows. More tal shutters were slamming down.
Outside, dogs were barking furiously.
"Fast reaction!"
Hunter's heart pounded. This was his first heist, and things had gone south imdiately.
Panic flared, but his enhanced stats kicked in. His brain processed the situation at lightning speed.
The front is sealed. The windows are sealed.
The basent!
"Go back the way I ca. The vent!"
He had checked the vent carefully. No sensors.
Plan set.
He spun around and sprinted for the basent door.
"FREEZE!"
A roar echoed from the stairs.
Then, gunfire.
TAT-TAT-TAT!
Automatic fire. AK series.
Hunter flinched as bullets shredded the wall behind him.
"Illegal mods!"
In the US, fully automatic weapons were heavily restricted. Civilian guns were semi-auto. But Steve didn't play by the rules.
Adrenaline flooded Hunter's veins.
He leaped down the stairs, clearing them in three bounds.
He slamd the basent door shut, tore off the tape on the latch, and locked it. It would only buy him seconds, but seconds were all he needed.
He sprinted across the garage to the vent.
It was over two ters high.
With double the strength of a normal man, it was nothing.
He jumped, grabbed the ledge, and pulled himself up in one fluid motion.
His upper body slithered through.
As his legs cleared the opening, he heard the basent door crash open behind him.
More footsteps. Angry shouting.
Hunter didn't look back.
He hit the ground outside and bolted for the cliff edge.
Behind him, the villa was in chaos. Dogs barking, alarms blaring, n shouting.
"The night isn't over yet."
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