DING!
[SYSTEM RECOMMENDATION: SQUAD IMBALANCE.] [YOU HAVE: 1 BRAWLER (MARCO), 1 ASSASSIN (JULIAN).] [DEFICIENCY: DEFENSE (TANKER).] [ADVICE: FIND A HUMAN SHIELD BEFORE ATTACKING VINNIE’S HEADQUARTERS.] Marco was starting to get used to the system notifications, which he found irritating. He exhaled the smoke of a cheap cigarette into the cold night air. Beside him, Julian was busy licking the remnants of ketchup off his fingers after finishing a pack of street hotdogs. "So, what's the plan, Boss?" Julian asked with a mouthful, "We smash the front door, I gouge out the guards' eyes, you snap the rest of their necks? Sounds thrilling. I like it!" "We need one more person," Marco said, his eyes fixed on the blue notification hovering in the air. The System provided the coordinates: THE PIT (UNDERGROUND ARENA) - QUEENS. "One more, for what?" Julian scoffed, "I think the two of us are enough to flatten that greasy warehouse!" "I can’t block bullets forever, Julian. And you..." Marco glanced at Julian's ridiculous purple suit, "You’ll be dead if someone shoots you from ten meters away. We need a shield!" "A shield?" Julian laughed, "Oh, okay! Just as long as I’m not the shield!" Julian enjoyed trouble, fighting just for the fun of it. Unlike Marco, who possessed strong ambition and purpose. Julian smiled, a glimmer of admiration shining through as he observed Marco. * THE PIT was a hellhole hidden behind a bankrupt textile factory. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, the smell of male sweat, and the coppery tang of fresh blood. In the middle of the vast room was a ten-foot-tall chain-link cage. Hundreds of gamblers screamed and waved cash, shouting their champion’s name. "KILL HIM! BREAK HIS LEGS!" Marco and Julian stood on the upper balcony, observing the fight below. Inside the cage, a nimble Muay Thai fighter was beating his opponent relentlessly. He launched a flurry of kicks into his opponent's ribs. THUD! THUD! THUD! But his opponent didn't fall. The opponent was a giant, nearly two meters tall, with a body as solid as a steel cabinet. His skin was riddled with scar tissue. His head was slick and bald. He just stood there, holding both arms up to cover his head, taking every hit without backing down an inch. [TARGET ANALYSIS] [NAME: BRUNO "THE WALL" FERRO.] [CLASS: TANKER (A-CLASS)] [PRIMARY ATTRIBUTE: EXTREMELY HIGH ENDURANCE.] [WEAKNESS: LOW SPEED.] "Insane," Julian commented, whistling in admiration, "Is that a man or a rhino? He's been kicked twenty times in the kidneys but his face is still flat as a wall!" "That's our guy," Marco muttered. Down below, the Muay Thai fighter was beginning to tire. His breath was ragged. He had just spent five full minutes beating on a solid rock. "Why... why won't you fall, you bastard?!" the frustrated Muay Thai fighter screamed. Bruno slowly lowered his arms. His face was battered, his temple cut open, but his eyes were calm. A terrifying calm. "Are you finished?" Bruno's voice was heavy, booming like an echo in a cave. "WHAT?!" Bruno stepped forward. The Muay Thai tried to kick again, but this time Bruno didn't defend. He caught his opponent’s foot in mid-air. GRAB. "My turn to attack now!" Bruno said. With one simple yet brutal motion, Bruno slammed his opponent's body onto the concrete mat. CRASH! The floor trembled. The Muay Thai fighter instantly passed out, foam bubbling from his mouth. A second of silence, then the roar of the audience exploded. "THE WALL! THE WALL! THE WALL!" * In the damp locker room smelling of liniment, Bruno sat alone on a long wooden bench. He was counting his earnings. A stack of crumpled, blood-stained bills. "$500... $600..." Bruno stopped counting. His shoulders slumped, "$800. Still not enough. Still far from enough!" "Not enough for what, rhino boy? Why so serious about counting, friend?" Bruno looked up. Standing in the doorway were two strangers. One was wearing a grungy hoodie with a sharp gaze (Marco), the other was a lunatic in a purple suit playing with a coin (Julian). Bruno quickly stuffed the money into his ragged bag and stood up. His height made the small room feel even more cramped. "I don't take visitors," Bruno snarled, "If you want an autograph, wait outside!" "We don't need an autograph," Julian grinned, walking in fearlessly, "My Boss wants to buy a wall. And it looks like you’re the sturdiest wall in this whole flea market," "Watch your mouth, Clown," Bruno clenched his fists. The veins on his arms bulged like steel cables. Marco stepped forward, cutting Julian off. "I need someone to attack Vinnie The Shark's warehouse tonight," Marco said, getting straight to the point, "The pay is ten times what you're holding right now!" Bruno’s eyes narrowed at the name Vinnie. Everyone at the harbor knew who Vinnie was. "I'm a fighter, not a hired thug," Bruno refused harshly. He slung the bag over his shoulder and tried to walk past Marco, "Move!" Marco didn't move. He held Bruno's chest with one hand. For a moment, it was a test of strength. Bruno, a 120 kg giant, tried to push. But Marco, whose strength attribute had been enhanced by the System, didn't budge. Marco's feet were cemented to the floor. Bruno was startled. This little guy... is strong? "Move, or I'll break your hand," Bruno threatened. "Your mother needs more than money, Bruno," Marco said suddenly. Bruno froze. A killing aura immediately exploded from his body. He grabbed Marco's collar, lifting him slightly off the floor. "How do you know about my mother, huh?!" Bruno bellowed, his face red with fury, "If you mess with her, I swear I will tear your head off!" The System had provided Marco with the information. [TARGET MOTIVATION: MOTHER'S HOSPITAL BILLS (STAGE 3 CANCER). REQUIRES SPECIAL MEDICAL ATTENTION OR... A MIRACLE.] Marco looked calmly into Bruno's eyes, despite his feet dangling. "I know she's at St. Mary's Hospital. I know your $800 is only enough for a week's worth of painkillers. I know you're desperate," "I'll kill you..." Bruno's hands trembled. "I can heal her," Marco cut in. Silence. Julian behind them just whistled softly, enjoying the drama. "Whoa, Boss has some fortune-telling magic now, huh? Magic Stove. Wait, no, what do you call those future-seeing things, wooow... cool!" Marco rolled his eyes internally. Stupid clown! Comparing me to a magic appliance, am I made of rice or something? Bruno slowly lowered Marco, but his grip hadn't loosened, "Don't... don't play games with my mother's life!" "Look at your hand," Marco commanded. Bruno looked at his right hand. His ring and pinky fingers were severely swollen, cracked from blocking those kicks. They were purplish-black. Marco placed his palm over Bruno's injured hand. "I don't have time to debate," Marco said. [SKILL ACTIVE: MINOR HEALING (OTHER TARGET)] [COST: 50 ENERGY POINTS.] A faint blue light pulsed from Marco's palm. Warm. Extremely warm. Bruno's eyes widened. He felt the agonizing pain in his fingers vanish instantly, replaced by a strange tingling sensation. The swelling subsided. The purple color faded. Within seconds, his hand was back to normal. Bruno released Marco, stumbling back two steps as he stared at his own hand in horror and amazement. He flexed his fingers. Perfect. "My God?!" Bruno exclaimed, a mixture of shock and awe, "Who... who are you, exactly?! How did you—" "I’m Marco. I’m just a man offering you a contract," Marco straightened his collar. His face was slightly pale from the energy drain, "You come with me, be my shield, protect my back. In exchange, I guarantee your mother's safety and health. I can heal her gradually, as long as you stay loyal!" Bruno looked at Marco, then at Julian who winked at him (in his typical flashy style), then back at his unbelievably healed hand. He had no choice. The doctor said his mother wouldn't survive the end of the month without expensive surgery. The man in front of him had just done the impossible. Bruno took a deep breath and let it out harshly. His tense shoulders slowly relaxed. "Alright... I guess I don't have a better option," Bruno said, his voice now resigned but full of resolve, "I'm with you!" Marco offered a thin smile. The smile of a king who had just acquired his fortress. For now, Julian would be the sword and Bruno the shield. That was satisfactory for Marco. "As I said, our agenda is to wipe out Vinnie 'The Shark.' Tonight!" Marco commanded. Julian clapped his hands excitedly, "Yes! The Crazy Trio is complete! We've got the fierce Butcher, the mad Joker, and the big brute Tanker! Vinnie is going to pee his pants!" Marco turned and walked out, followed by Julian. Bruno stared at Marco's back for a moment. He didn't know the decision he’d made would lead him into a bottomless dark pit. But for his mother's sake, he was willing to go to hell itself. He grabbed his bag, clenched his newly healed fist, and stepped out after Marco. Without looking back. ***Latest Chapter
Chapter 222: The Blood Legacy
VILLA ROSA - TUSCANY, ITALY - 02:00 AM LOCAL TIMEThe storm over the Tuscan valley did not arrive with a gentle warning. It slammed into the ancient stone walls of Villa Rosa with the sudden, catastrophic violence of a bomb going off. The wind tore through the vineyards, ripping leaves from their branches, while rain hammered against the reinforced glass windows like a barrage of relentless gunfire.Inside the sprawling estate, the darkness was absolute. The power grid had flickered and died an hour ago, leaving the manor illuminated only by the jagged, erratic flashes of lightning.Maria Rossi lay awake in her grand, empty bed. She had not slept a full night in five years. The silence of the house usually felt like a heavy, suffocating blanket, but tonight, the raging storm outside offered a strange comfort. It drowned out the thoughts in her head.Then, a sound pierced through the howling wind.It was a sharp, u
Chapter 221: Uncle Parker's Visit
VILLA ROSA - TUSCANY, ITALY - 10:00 AM LOCAL TIMEThe rented Fiat navigated the winding, sun-drenched roads of the Tuscan hills with a struggling, sputtering engine. The driver of the small vehicle looked entirely out of place amidst the vibrant green vineyards and ancient, picturesque stone farmhouses.John Parker had officially retired from the Federal Bureau of Investigation four years ago. He had surrendered his badge, packed his desk, and moved to a quiet cabin in Montana to fish and forget. He had spent his entire career hunting monsters, and he had believed, with absolute certainty, that he had watched the greatest monster of them all turn to ash in the center of Manhattan.Yet, the instincts of a lifelong hunter do not simply vanish with a pension check.Parker parked the Fiat at the bottom of the long gravel driveway leading up to Villa Rosa. He stepped out of the car, adjusting the collar of his signature beige
Chapter 220: Maria's Nightmare
VILLA ROSA - TUSCANY, ITALY - 04:30 PM LOCAL TIMEThe late afternoon sun bathed the sprawling estate of Villa Rosa in a warm, honeyed glow. The sky was a vast, unbroken canopy of cerulean blue, and the gentle breeze carried the sweet, earthy fragrance of ripening grapes and blooming lavender. It was a picturesque scene of absolute tranquility, a paradise carefully constructed from the ashes of a violent past. But as Maria Rossi stood behind the heavy velvet drapes of the second-floor library window, looking down at the courtyard below, she felt no peace. Her heart beat with a slow, heavy rhythm of ingrained, inescapable dread. She watched her five-year-old son, Antonio. He was sitting alone on the edge of the large, circular stone fountain. The water trickled softly behind him, but Antonio paid it no mind. He was not splashing his hands in the water. He was not chasing the colorful butterflies that fluttered around the rose bushes. He sat with his legs crossed, his posture rigidly
Chapter 219: The Time Jump
VILLA ROSA - TUSCANY, ITALY - FIVE YEARS LATER03:00 PM LOCAL TIMETime had a way of smoothing over the sharpest edges of trauma, covering the ruins of the past with a veneer of quiet, mundane peace. The rolling hills of the Tuscan countryside basked in the golden warmth of the afternoon sun. The endless rows of grapevines stretched toward the horizon, lush and vibrant, a testament to the resilient beauty of nature. A sleek, black armored Mercedes sedan wound its way up the long, gravel driveway of Villa Rosa. The heavy iron gates opened silently, granting the vehicle entry into the secluded estate. Sofia Moretti stepped out of the back seat before the driver could even open her door. At twenty-two years old, Sofia was a formidable presence. She wore a tailored, slate-gray suit that projected absolute, uncompromising authority. As the Director of the Phoenix Foundation and a top-tier international lawyer, she spent her days navigating the cutthroat boardrooms of Geneva and London,
Chapter 218: Birth on a Stormy Night
VILLA ROSA - TUSCANY, ITALY - 11:45 PM LOCAL TIMEThe Tuscan sky did not simply rain; it unleashed a biblical deluge upon the earth. The rolling green hills, usually a portrait of serene beauty, were swallowed entirely by the violent, churning blackness of a massive thunderstorm. Lightning violently fractured the heavens, casting harsh, jagged flashes of blinding white light across the stone facade of Villa Rosa. The thunder that followed was deafening, a physical force that rattled the ancient timber beams of the manor.Inside the fortified basement of the villa, the lights flickered erratically before dying completely, plunging the underground medical room into absolute, suffocating darkness. A few seconds later, the deep, rumbling hum of the backup diesel generator kicked in, bathing the room in the dim, sickly yellow glow of emergency halogen lamps.Maria Rossi lay on the pristine medical bed. She was completely drenched in a freezing, unnatural sweat. Her breath plumed in the col
Chapter 217: The Impossible Diagnosis
VILLA ROSA - TUSCANY, ITALY - 04:15 PM LOCAL TIMEThe heavy, iron-reinforced doors of Villa Rosa swung open to admit a solitary, mud-splattered Range Rover. The vehicle tore through the gravel driveway, ignoring the meticulously maintained landscaping, and screeched to a halt right in front of the stone patio. A man stepped out of the vehicle before the engine had even fully shut down. He was tall, dressed in a sharp black turtleneck and a dark blazer, carrying two heavy, reinforced medical cases. Dr. Julian Vivaldi was not a traditional physician. He was a shadow contractor, a man whose medical license had been revoked in Milan for unauthorized genetic experimentation. He catered exclusively to the ghosts of the European underworld, men and women who could not afford to leave a paper trail in a public hospital. Sofia Rossi stood waiting at the top of the stone steps. She did not offer a greeting. She merely turned and led the doctor inside the cool, darkened interior of the villa.
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