2025-12-22 22:03:01The isolation cell felt different now.
Bradley sat cross-legged on the cold slab, eyes closed, the blue glow of the system interface illuminating his mind like a private screen. The pain from the second attack had vanished completely with bruises faded, cuts sealed, ribs no longer tender. Whatever this system was, it wasn’t just giving him strength in the moment. It was rewriting his body.
He focused on the translucent panel.
**Urban Ascendancy System**
**Host: Bradley Turner**
**Level: 2**
**XP: 100/500 to next level**
**Health: 100/100**
**Strength: 14**
**Agility: 12**
**Intelligence: 15**
**Charisma: 8**
**Available Points: 0**
**Skills Unlocked:**
- Basic Combat Module (Level 1): Enhanced reflexes, instinctive knowledge of hand-to-hand techniques, pressure points, and improvised weapons.
**Active Quests:**
- None
**New Notification: Daily Login Reward Available**
He mentally selected the notification.
[Daily Login Reward claimed: +50 XP, Minor Healing Potion x1 (consumed automatically on critical injury)]
XP ticked up to 150/500.
Bradley exhaled slowly. This was insane. Systems like this belonged in video games, not the real world. Not in a Rikers Island segregation cell at 3 a.m.
He thought the word “Help” experimentally.
A new panel unfolded.
**System Overview**
The Urban Ascendancy System is designed to elevate the host from the bottom of urban society to its absolute pinnacle. Through quests, skill acquisition, knowledge downloads, and strategic empowerment, the host will gain dominance in politics, business, combat, social influence, and any urban domain chosen.
**Modules Available for Unlock:**
- Political Mastery
- Business Acumen
- Social Engineering
- Advanced Combat
- Insight & Analysis
- And many more…
**Note:** The system adapts to host desires and circumstances. State or focus on a goal to generate relevant quests.
Bradley’s mind reeled. Pinnacle of society. Revenge flashed immediately, images of Victoria’s smug face, Leo’s bruises turning to fear, Evelyn’s betrayal exposed.
The system responded instantly.
[Detecting host intent: Revenge against Jordan family and ascension through power structures.]
[New Path Suggested: Revenge & Ascendancy]
[Accept path to unlock tailored quests? Y/N]
He hesitated only a second. Yes.
[Path Accepted. First long-term quest generated.]
**Quest: Path to Freedom**
**Objective:** Secure release from incarceration without compromising dignity or family ties.
**Sub-objectives (revealed progressively):**
1. Gain a powerful ally within the prison.
**Reward:** Political Knowledge Module (Basic) + 500 XP
He dismissed the panels, opening his eyes to the dim cell. The fluorescent buzz was the only sound he heard.
An AI? Alien tech? Some government experiment gone wrong? The system had mentioned “bonded” during activation. Whatever it was, it had saved his life twice in one night. He wasn’t about to question the gift.
But he needed answers.
“System,” he thought clearly. “How did you choose me?”
Text appeared.
[Host was in critical mortal danger with high potential for urban ascendancy. Compatibility scan: 99.7%. Emergency binding authorized.]
High potential? Him? The live-in son-in-law who trimmed hedges and swallowed insults for eight years?
He almost laughed. Maybe the system saw something he didn’t.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor, they were of two sets. Thens the slot slid open.
“Turner. Hands through the slot.”
He was cuffed again followed by the door opening.
“Back to general pop,” the guard said gruffly. “Warden says you’re too much trouble for seg.”
Bradley stood, compliant. As they walked him down the hall, he noticed the guards’ wary glances. Word of the two fights had spread. He wasn’t fresh meat anymore.
Back in Block C, dawn was breaking as gray light filtering through high barred windows. Men were stirring for morning count. Eyes followed him as he reached his bunk, but no one approached. The three latest attackers were still in medical; rumors said one had a punctured lung.
He sat, pretending to adjust his bedding while scanning the room discreetly.
The system highlighted figures in his vision, subtle red auras around potential threats, green around neutral or possible allies.
One man caught his attention immediately.
Mid-fifties, lean, graying hair, sitting on a top bunk near the far wall reading a worn paperback. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the room with practiced awareness. A faint green outline pulsed around him.
[Potential Ally Detected: Isaac Jones]
[Background: Former New York State Assemblyman. Charged with corruption and bribery. case pending trial. Multiple attempts on life suspected. High influence if freed.]
Isaac Jones. Bradley had seen his face on the news months ago, a rising star in city politics, tipped for mayor, until federal charges hit. He was framed, most insiders whispered.
The system pinged.
[Sub-objective 1 updated: Befriend Isaac Jones to unlock political knowledge.]
Bradley kept his expression neutral. Making allies in here required finesse, not force.
Morning count and breakfast time soon passed, then it was yard time.
In the yard, under a weak winter sun, Bradley walked the perimeter slowly. Inmates clustered in groups of racial lines, gang affiliations. He stayed solitary, but not isolated.
Isaac Jones sat alone on a concrete bench, coat pulled tight against the cold, staring at the razor wire topping the fence.
Bradley approached him casually, stopping a respectful distance away.
“Mind if I sit?”
Isaac glanced up with eyes assessing him. “it’s a free country. Or it used to be.”
Bradley sat, leaving space between them.
“Bradley Turner,” he said quietly.
“Isaac Jones.” he paused. “You’re the one who took down six guys in two nights.”
“Three each time. And they came at me first.”
Isaac nodded slowly. “Heard that too. You are ex-military? Or Cop?”
“No. Mechanic who married into the wrong family.”
Isaac’s mouth twitched with almost a smile. “We all marry into something, one way or another.”
They sat in silence for a minute, watching a basketball game on the cracked court.
“You’re big news outside,” Bradley said. “Clean politician in a dirty system. Lot of people think you were set up.”
Isaac’s jaw tightened. “Lot of people are right. But proving it from in here…” He shrugged.
Bradley nodded. “Connections only reach so far when someone wants you gone.”
Isaac turned, studying him fully now. “You sound like you know.”
“I do.” Bradley met his gaze. “My in-laws put me here under assault charge, fabricated. And they’ve already tried to have me killed twice.”
Isaac’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t scoff. “Jordans?”
Bradley turns out to be surprised.
“Saw it on the news when you came in,” Isaac said. “Victoria Jordan is a shark. Old money, older grudges. If she wants you dead, she won’t stop.”
Bradley leaned forward, his voice low. “Then we have something in common. Someone wants both of us buried.”
Isaac considered him for a long moment.
“Maybe,” he said finally. “But trust is expensive in here.”
“I know. I’m not asking for trust. Just conversation.”
Isaac almost smiled again. “Fair enough.”
The yard bell rang, indicating time up.
As they stood, Isaac spoke quietly. “Same bench tomorrow?”
Bradley nodded.
Back in the dorm that afternoon, the system updated.
[Progress: Initial contact with Isaac Jones established.]
[Reward: +50 XP]
[Current XP: 200/500]
A new notification appeared.
[Daily Quest Available: Build Reputation]
[Objective: Gain respect from 5 inmates without violence.]
[Reward: +100 XP, Charisma +1]
Bradley dismissed it for now.
That evening, news filtered through the block via the TV in the common area.
A guard changed the channel to NY1.
“Breaking update: Bradley Turner, son-in-law of prominent Jordan family, reported dead after prison altercation at Rikers Island. Sources say he was killed during a gang-related fight early this morning. The Jordan family has released a statement expressing grief…”
The dorm went quiet. Heads turned toward Bradley’s bunk.
He sat there with blank face watching his own mugshot on screen.
Victoria’s doing. A fake the death, cover by the failed hits tying up loose ends.
On screen, a reporter stood outside the estate. Victoria appeared briefly at the door, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, the act was Oscar-worthy.
Evelyn beside her was pale and composed, pretending to grief.
Then Leo, arm in a sling for show, face still bruised but solemn.
The reporter: “Police are investigating, but sources say it was tragic but unsurprising given Turner’s violent history.”
Bradley’s blood ran cold.
They were celebrating already, and there was nothing he could do than let them.
He met the stares of the other inmates calmly.
One older man nodded slowly but full of respect.
Another whispered, “Ghost walking.”
The system pinged softly.
[Bonus XP: Reputation increased through perceived resilience. +75 XP]
[Level Up! Current Level: 3]
[+3 stat points available]
Bradley allocated
them silently: two to Charisma, one to Intelligence.
Let the Jordans think he was dead.
It would make his return even sweeter.
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9: Prison survival mode.
Days passed by very fast with strict routine at Rikers Island which couldn't by bent by any means.The morning count was every 5:30 a.m. followed by the slop for breakfast and then yard time if the weather allowed, showers under lukewarm water that cut off too soon, endless hours in the dorm with nothing but concrete walls and the low hum of male voices. Bradley moved through it all with deliberate calm, his body was becoming stronger now and his senses sharper. The system had turned him into something new, someone patient, watchful and lethal when needed.The assassination attempts had stopped since other inmates were now scared of attacking him, but there were other means to silent a man without the use of brute force.Word had spread through the block like wildfire: the “dead man” who couldn’t be killed. Six professional hitters down in two nights, and he’d walked away without a scratch. Inmates gave him space and nods of respect in the chow line, some even offer extra dessert fro
8. Evelyn's true colour
The Jordan estate glowed like a jewel against the snowy night, every window lit warmly as if in celebration. Inside the drawing room, a fire crackled in the marble hearth, casting dancing shadows across antique furniture and oil paintings of long-dead ancestors. The air smelled of pine from the massive Christmas tree in the corner and the faint, expensive notes of Victoria’s favorite Chanel perfume.Three crystal flutes stood on the silver tray, champagne bubbling gently. Victoria lifted hers first, the diamonds on her wrist catching the firelight.“To the end of an unfortunate chapter,” she said, her voice smooth as silk.Leo clinked his glass against hers eagerly, wincing only slightly from the movement, his ribs still tender, but the sling was mostly for show now. “About damn time. I thought the bastard had nine lives.”Evelyn stood a step behind them, near the window overlooking the snow-covered gardens. She held her flute but hadn’t drunk yet. Her reflection stared back from the
7. System awakening
The isolation cell felt different now.Bradley sat cross-legged on the cold slab, eyes closed, the blue glow of the system interface illuminating his mind like a private screen. The pain from the second attack had vanished completely with bruises faded, cuts sealed, ribs no longer tender. Whatever this system was, it wasn’t just giving him strength in the moment. It was rewriting his body.He focused on the translucent panel.**Urban Ascendancy System****Host: Bradley Turner** **Level: 2** **XP: 100/500 to next level** **Health: 100/100** **Strength: 14** **Agility: 12** **Intelligence: 15** **Charisma: 8** **Available Points: 0****Skills Unlocked:** - Basic Combat Module (Level 1): Enhanced reflexes, instinctive knowledge of hand-to-hand techniques, pressure points, and improvised weapons.**Active Quests:** - None**New Notification: Daily Login Reward Available**He mentally selected the notification.[Daily Login Reward claimed: +50 XP, Minor Healing Potion x
6. The assassin's shadow
The isolation cell was a tomb.Six by eight feet, poured concrete on all sides, a steel door with a narrow slot for food trays. No window. A single fluorescent bulb behind wire mesh buzzed overhead, never turning off. Bradley sat on the bare slab that served as a bed, knees drawn up, staring at the wall. His ribs throbbed with every breath; the cut on his forearm had scabbed over, but the bruises were blooming purple and yellow.Twenty-four hours in seg for “his own protection,” the guard had said with a smirk. Protection from what came next, more likely.He replayed the fight in his mind, the three men, their coordinated attack, the glint of the shiv. They hadn’t been random. Though paid to make it look like a typical prison beating gone fatal. The Jordans’ reach stretched even here, into the bowels of Rikers.He leaned his head back against the cold wall, sleep felt dangerous. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Maya’s face, heard Evelyn’s silence as the cuffs clicked shut.A clan
5. First night in hell
The clang of metal doors echoed like gunshots as Bradley was escorted into Block C at Rikers Island. The guard, a thick-necked man with a shaved head and a name tag reading “Ortiz” shoved him forward with casual indifference.“Home sweet home, Turner. Bunk 42. Touch nothing that ain’t yours, and maybe you’ll last the week.”Bradley stepped into the dorm, the stench hitting him first: a mix of sweat, bleach, mold, and something sour he didn’t want to identify. Sixty bunks lined the walls in two tiers, most occupied by men who looked up with predatory curiosity. Tattoos crawled up necks and arms; eyes assessed him like fresh meat.He kept his gaze forward, walking the narrow aisle to bunk 42 bottom, near the toilets, as expected. The thin mattress was stained yellow in places, the pillow flat and gray. He dropped his issued bedding roll onto it and began making the bed with mechanical precision, the way he’d learned in the brief intake orientation.Conversations resumed around him, but
4. Arrested and betrayed
The back of the police cruiser smelled like old vinyl, stale coffee, and something faintly metallic, maybe blood from previous passengers. Bradley sat with his hands cuffed behind him, the metal biting into his wrists every time the car hit a pothole. The two officers up front spoke in low murmurs, occasionally glancing at him in the rearview mirror. One was young, fresh-faced, almost apologetic. The older one had the weary eyes of someone who’d seen too many domestic calls in neighborhoods like the Upper East Side.Bradley stared out the window as Manhattan blurred past holiday lights strung across brownstones, doormen hailing cabs, couples in wool coats hurrying toward restaurants. Normal life. A world he’d been part of, but never really belonged to.His mind replayed the scene in the foyer: Victoria’s cold triumph, Leo’s smug grin despite the bruises, and Evelyn… Evelyn turning away. That fleeting look of relief on her face haunted him more than the cuffs. He’d caught it just befor
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