RETIRED WAR GOD'S EVERYDAY LIFE

2

"The police take twenty minutes to get to this district if the caller is just a small shop owner, Toby," Mason said. He took off his brown apron, folded it neatly, and placed it on the bar counter. "Watch this place. Don't go outside."

"W-Where are you going?!"

"Brewing coffee," Mason replied flatly.

Mason stepped outside. The cold Chicago air stung his face, carrying the scent of cooking oil and exhaust fumes. His footsteps were smooth and silent, walking along the wet sidewalk. Every step was calculated—his body position low, always ready to switch to survival mode if things turned sour.

"I told you, Old Granny!" Frankie's voice boomed amid the roar of passing cars on the highway. "This week's protection f*e is up two hundred dollars! Inflation! You think this city is free?!"

"কিন্তু Frankie... my flower sales were so slow this week," Mrs. Beatrice pleaded, her wrinkled hands gripping her coat fabric. "My pension hasn't cleared from the government yet—"

"I don't care about your pension!" Frankie grabbed the collar of Mrs. Beatrice's coat, lifting the old woman onto her tiptoes. "If there's no cash right now, tomorrow at dawn this shop is going to be flooded with red paint and all the dog shit in this district is going to be thrown inside!"

"Let go of her hand, sir."

The voice wasn't loud. There was no shouting. But its cold tone cut through the roar of the rain and night wind like a scalpel slicing through flesh.

Frankie was startled, turning reflexively. His two henchmen standing behind immediately put their hands inside their jackets, ready to draw their blunt weapons.

"Who are you?" Frankie hissed, scanning Mason's appearance from head to toe. A tall man with a wet black t-shirt and a gaze far too calm for a normal civilian. "Oh... the new cafe owner next door. Why? You want to be a hero tonight, Coffee Man?"

[Side Quest Detected! Resolve the Moretti Gang's intimidation against Mrs. Beatrice without hitting or damaging public facilities.] [Reward: Mrs. Beatrice's Flower Shop Land Ownership Certificate (Fully redeemed from the bank), +200 Tranquility Points.]

Mason flashed a slight smile—the smile of a perfectly trained store clerk. "I just don't like seeing my regular customer disturbed before she can buy her morning coffee tomorrow, sir."

Frankie burst into laughter, making the rolls of fat on his neck shake. "Customer? This old lady doesn't even have money to pay the land rent! Don't meddle in Moretti Gang business unless you want your cafe burned down tomorrow night!"

Frankie tightened his grip on Mrs. Beatrice's collar, making the old woman cough.

Mason stepped an inch closer. His hand moved.

Not a hook punch. Not a push either. Mason's right hand glided quickly like a scorpion's tail, catching Frankie's wrist as it gripped Mrs. Beatrice's collar. Mason's two fingers—his thumb and index finger—pressed the median nerve point on the inside of Frankie's wrist with a precision pressure of five kilograms per square inch.

Click.

"AAARGH!"

Frankie screamed shrilly like a slaughtered pig. His grip on Mrs. Beatrice's coat let go instantly. His entire right arm suddenly went numb, hanging limp like a fragile rope. He sat down on the wet sidewalk, holding his elbow, which felt like it had been electrocuted by millions of volts.

"What did you... WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY ARM?!" Frankie screamed, his eyes wide with terror.

Frankie's two henchmen pulled wooden bats from behind their jackets, their faces red with anger. "You bastard!"

Mason didn't even look in their direction. He shifted his position half a step to the left, catching the end of the wooden bat swung by the first henchman with just his bare palm. Before the man could realize what was happening, Mason twisted the hinges of the man's wrist outward—not until it broke, but enough to pressure his joints until the man fell to his knees in pain, dropping his bat.

"Your muscles are too tense," Mason said calmly, his voice sounding like a yoga instructor giving advice. "Cut back on cheap alcohol and sitting in cars too much."

The second henchman, who was about to attack, suddenly stopped in his tracks. His eyes stared at Mason in horror. In less than four seconds, his boss collapsed crying on the sidewalk and his partner knelt holding his wrist without a single punch landing. This wasn't a street fight—it was like dealing with a monster who knew exactly where the kill switch was on the human body.

Mason reached into his pocket, pulling out a few hundred-dollar bills—fresh cash from the System bonus this morning. He threw the bills onto the chest of Frankie, who was still panting on the sidewalk.

"This is security money for Mrs. Beatrice's shop and my cafe for the next two months," Mason said quietly. "But I need an official receipt from your organization's office. Send it to my cafe tomorrow morning."

Frankie looked up, his face covered in cold sweat. The burning sensation in his arm nerves began to spread to his shoulders. "You... you don't know who you're fighting, Coffee Man... Don Sal won't let this go..."

"I'll wait for the receipt, Mr. Bruno," Mason interrupted cordially.

He turned around, put his arm around the shoulders of Mrs. Beatrice, who was still trembling, and led her back into the warm flower shop.

[Side Quest Completed! Reward delivered to your personal safe.] [Tranquility Points: +200]

While tending to Mrs. Beatrice inside the shop, Mason looked out the window. Frankie and his two henchmen limped away into the darkness of the alley, holding their arms.

Mason smiled faintly, reaching into his apron pocket. In the palm of his hand was a micro liquid tracker measuring less than a millimeter that he had managed to plant on Frankie's pants when pressing his nerve.

However, before Mason could enjoy his victory, the cell phone in his pocket rang. An unknown number from a military satellite network blinked on the screen.

Mason picked it up, holding the phone to his ear without uttering a single word.

A woman's voice distorted by a frequency modifier was heard on the other end of the line:

"The Obsidian encryption signal was just active in the Wicker Park district of Chicago. Someone used the Ghost protocol ten minutes ago... I know you're not dead yet, Mason."

Mason froze in place.