2026-03-01 22:54:51
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Chapter 141: His hand
Chapter 141For a second, Johnny did not breathe.The sniper’s body dropped.It happened fast, but not fast enough.He saw it.The man falling backwards, arms loose, boots scraping uselessly against the wall. The broken glass around the window frame caught the sunlight as the body passed through it. And there—still clenched tight in the tactical vest—Johnny’s hand.His hand.They fell together.Fourteen floors.Johnny leaned over the window before he could stop himself.The wind hit his face hard. It smelled like dust, smoke, and something burnt from the fight. Far below, the street looked unreal. Small cars. Tiny people.Then—A distant sound.A heavy, sickening impact.Even from that height, he heard it.A dull crack against concrete.Johnny’s stomach twisted.For a moment, everything went quiet.Then the pain arrived.It did not build slowly.It exploded.“Aaaahhh!”He fell backward into the room, clutching his arm. Or what was left of it.Blood poured from the open stump in violen
Chapter 146: The Fight
The room felt smaller the moment the sniper stepped forward. Wind pushed through the shattered windows behind him, carrying dust and the distant echo of traffic far below. The building creaked from all the damage Johnny had caused getting here. They were alone. No civilians. No witnesses. Just broken walls and unfinished business. The sniper raised the pistol. Johnny moved first. Bang. The muzzle flashed bright orange. Johnny twisted sideways. The first bullet sliced past his ribs. Bang. The second round slammed into his upper arm. Pain burst through him like fire under the skin. He didn’t slow down. He charged. The sniper fired again. Bang. This one hit his shoulder. The impact spun him slightly—but he kept pushing forward, teeth gritted, ignoring the burn as flesh already began stitching itself back together. [Instant Health Restoration Activated] Johnny grabbed a metal stool from beside the wall and hurled it. The sniper shot it mid-air.
Chapter 145
The final rotation slowed...Click.The tile locked.A pause — stretched too long.Peter leaned in.And then — the number flared into view.NEGATIVE FOUR MULTIPLIER.–4XThe red pulsed across the board like a warning siren, deep and final.Peter stared.Froze.Time stopped.“What the fuck...” he whispered, the words falling out of him like broken glass.The crowd gasped — not just surprised, but horrified. A ripple of stunned silence spread through the arena. Even the anchor didn’t speak — for a moment.Then:“...OH NO.”The Anchor's voice cracked with disbelief. “Peter Donovan has landed a –4X! That’s the highest penalty on the board!”Gasps turned to roars. Shouts. Chaos.It was like someone had thrown a match into dry brush — disbelief ignited into pandemonium. The arena screens zoomed in on Peter’s face, pale and stunned. His chest rose and fell, sharp and uneven.Across from him, Chloe didn’t blink. She didn’t smirk.She simply tilted her head. One degree.As if saying: Now we’re
Chapter 144: What the fuck
Chloe didn’t hesitate.Her eyes flicked briefly to the board—just once, just long enough to assess the remaining tiles. 5x unflipped, Six unknowns.But unlike Peter, she didn’t pause to consult a system. She didn’t flinch.She moved.A single, fluid motion: her hand rose, fingers curved like a conductor mid-symphony, then drifted downward and tapped tile 4.The crowd barely had time to react before the hum returned.Click—click—click.The flipping began.Peter leaned in.He watched—not the tile, but her.There was no tremble in her hand. No shift in her gaze. But her breath — there it was. A single, almost imperceptible hitch in her inhale. Not fear. Not panic.Just... calculation failing to resolve.Click—click—click.The rotations slowed.Light glinted off the edges of the spinning tile like silver teeth waiting to bite.Click.It locked.A cold pulse spread through the board.NEGATIVE ONE MULTIPLIER.–1XThe number glowed red. A soft, almost mocking tone accompanied the display. An
Chapter 143: 4x
"System, give me the probability odds of the remaining tiles landing a 4X."---[PROBABILITY VISION ACTIVATED]Calculating...Using Probability Vision for 8 tiles will cost 24 minutes.Would you like to proceed?{YES/NO}---“Yes.”---[TIME BANK: 121 minutes → 97 minutes][Skill Activated: Probability Vision (Level 3)]Calculating...---Tile 1: 30%Tile 3: 17%Tile 4: 11%Tile 5: 18%Tile 7: 12%Tile 8: 25%Tile 9: 9%Tile 10: 22%---Peter’s eyes flicked across the shimmering data overlay on his display, absorbing it all in a heartbeat. Sweat prickled beneath his collar, but he kept his breathing steady.His first flip had landed. But Chloe’s cold 5X had already shifted the entire flow of the match.No more room for safe moves.Still… he couldn’t risk a reckless one.Tile 1. Best odds. Highest probability. No hesitation.Peter extended a single finger toward the board. The surface of Tile 1 pulsed faintly beneath the glass-like sheen, as though sensing the weight of the moment.He
Chapter 142: First flip
The crowd was still vibrating with energy as the Anchor gave a sweeping bow and stepped back from center stage.A quiet hum pulsed through the vast hall, as though the room itself was holding its breath.On the holo-display, the game board flickered into readiness — the sleek digital grid shimmering faintly in the dim light.10 tiles loaded. Coin flip pending.At their seats, Peter and Chloe faced each other across the elevated table — a sleek black surface bordered with thin neon-blue lines. Their personal displays hovered in front of them, responsive to their slightest touch, transparent but pulsing faintly in rhythm with their heartbeats.Peter tightened his grip on the tablet, knuckles white for a moment before he forced himself to breathe. His pulse thrummed painfully in his neck.Across from him, Chloe sat like stone. One leg crossed over the other, tablet resting lightly on her lap. Not a flicker of tension showed in her face — only cold, clinical focus. A chessmaster waiting f
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