Johnny kept running until his legs gave in—
and even then, he had to keep running. He couldn’t stop. Not with a three-headed monster on his tail. “Vixen, please—make it stop! I can’t feel my legs anymore!” [It will stop when the penalty comes to an end.] “Then just kill me already!” But death wasn’t an option. Every time his body was about to shut down, a faint glow pulsed through him— [Instant Health Restoration Activated.] —dragging him back into this hellish loop. Even death had been taken off the table. For five straight hours, Johnny sprinted like a madman through the city. Past the Nebula Hotel at least five times—each lap scraping open memories he’d rather bury, memories of the accident…memories of Mia. Johnny flew across bridges, down highways, tearing through alleys, blasting past security guards who cursed at him as he blew through private property. To everyone else, he looked like a lunatic—an unshaven guy in a hospital gown, sprinting through the night, wide-eyed and screaming at shadows. But if only they knew. If only they could see the beast behind him, its triple roar shaking the air. “Vixen!” Johnny wheezed, lungs burning. “Wasn’t the task sixty kilometers?” [Correct.] “Then why the hell hasn’t it stopped?! I’ve been running for two hours straight! What gives?!” [The chase will end once the penalty result is equivalent to the entire workout task.] Johnny’s jaw dropped. “What the fuuu—” Cerberus roared behind him, cutting him off. And so the chase continued. Hour after brutal hour. By the time the hound finally vanished into smoke, dawn was breaking. Johnny collapsed face-first onto the asphalt in some godforsaken part of the city he didn’t recognize. His chest heaved. The inside of his mouth was sandpaper. His entire body screamed in exhaustion. And yet—he was still alive. No scars. No bruises. No broken bones. Only mental fatigue so deep he felt hollow. The blue screen blinked in front of him. … [Penalty Quest Completed.] Task: 4 hours chase by biggest fear. Reward: +12 Charm Points …. Johnny groaned into the pavement. “Please tell me I at least get an actual reward for that. What the hell is a charm point anyway?” [Charm Points can be exchanged for goods, upgrades, and opportunities in the System Market. They also influence social interactions, and they...] “—Ahhh, fuck this. I need a drink.” Johnny cut the system off. He staggered to his feet. His vision was hazy, but neon lights flickered ahead. A nightclub, still pulsing with bass at 4:05 AM Club Euphoria. Johnny smirked weakly. “Of course only a damn nightclub would still be open at this hour.” He pushed through the doors. Inside, Euphoria was alive. A sea of bodies moved to the bass, lights flashing across sweat-slicked skin. The air smelled of perfume, alcohol, and electricity. Johnny dragged himself to the bar, shoulders slouched, expression dead. “Give me your most expensive bottle,” he said flatly. The bartender raised a perfectly arched brow. She was a slim figure wrapped in a fitted black vest and tie, red lipstick sharp as sin, hair pulled back in a messy bun that still looked deliberate. Her eyes ran over him, lingering at the hospital gown still hanging loose around his shoulders. “...You sure?” she asked slowly, leaning forward on the counter. “Our most expensive bottle is 1959 Château Lafite Rothschild. That’ll be eight thousand dollars. First-timers don’t usually start there. You’ll need to pay upfront.” Johnny slid his debit card across the counter without hesitation. She blinked. “You’re serious?” “If that demon dog was real,” Johnny muttered, “then the million bucks in my account sure as hell better be real too.” The bartender swiped the card. A moment later, her face lit up in surprise. Then she flashed him a dazzling smile. “My apologies for doubting you, Mr. Big Shot. Your bottle of 1959 Château Lafite Rothschild will be right out.” Johnny leaned back in his chair with a grin. He didn’t have a single dim in his account before the accident. This proved it. The money was real. Johnny swirled the glass awkwardly. He had no idea how to taste wine — but he damn well knew how to chug. As he downed his second glass, letting the burn scorch his throat, his mind spun with possibilities. If only he could figure out how this damn system worked. If only Vixen wasn’t so cryptic. Then suddenly, blue glow returned. ….. [Hot Assignment Alert] Task: Successfully Flirt with the Club Owner Reward: 50 Charm Points + Ownership of the Nebula Hotel …. Johnny spat his drink all over the counter. “What the fuck?!”Latest Chapter
Chapter 88: If I were you
As the men were about to pull their triggers— “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Johnny’s voice wasn’t raised. It wasn’t urgent. It carried the same tone he’d used all morning—flat, almost bored—as his eyes tracked invisible lines only, he seemed to notice. The trajectory of the bullets. The angles. The ricochet paths.He could dodge them.All of them. But he also knew what they didn’t. If he moved, someone else in the room would die. An assistant near the glass wall. A junior executive frozen behind a chair. Maybe even one of the guards themselves. Innocent blood spilled not out of intent, but incompetence. Johnny had learned long ago that survival wasn’t just about living. It was about choosing who didn’t have to die for it. Darren Cross stared at him. Not with rage. Not yet. For a long second, Darren simply looked—really looked—at the man standing alone at the center of the room with guns trained on him and no fear on his face. “Is this funny to you?” Darren asked. T
Chapter 87: Darren
The executive floor of SilverCrest Holdings now had a particular kind of quiet—manufactured, expensive, hostile. The carpet swallowed footsteps. The glass walls reflected power back at itself. Even raised voices sounded moderated by money.And the guns never moved.They stayed trained on Johnny’s chest, his head, his spine—three different men, three different angles. Professional. Careful. Not shaking. The kind of stillness that told everyone in the room these weren’t bluffing security contractors. These were people who had done this before.Johnny stood in the center of it all.Hands relaxed at his sides. Posture straight. Face calm.The room had formed a wide circle around him without anyone consciously deciding to step back. Executives. Assistants. Sector heads. A few interns frozen near the walls, unsure whether to look or pretend they weren’t witnessing something that could end careers—or lives.Darren Cross stood near the center of the floor, jacket perfectly cut, cuffs immac
Chapter 86: Grateful
Time stretches. Johnny’s finger settles against the trigger. Another realization surfaces—not a memory, but a truth he can no longer avoid. He is no longer innocent. That had ended the night he died and came back wrong. Since then, the world had felt thinner. Sharper. People too. Desire, fear, loyalty—none of it hid well anymore. The Ultimate Harem System hadn’t made him reckless. It had made him aware. He’d seen how easily power moved. How quickly it traded hands. How often it wore charm instead of violence. Death took his fear. Coming back took his excuses. That was why his hand was steady now. Why the begging didn’t move him. Why he could look at a broken man and feel nothing he hadn’t already buried. He wasn’t here to prove anything. He was just done pretending.Strangely enough, Johnny was grateful to them. To Darius, for showing him what power looked like when it rotted. For teaching him that authority was often just permission wrapped in a suit. For breaking him so
Chapter 85: The gun
Darius King doesn’t fall so much as he gives up. His knees buckle, not from impact, but from realization. From the sudden understanding that whatever protected him for years—status, fear, rooms that closed when he entered—has stopped working. He sinks down, palms bracing against the carpet, shoulders caving inward. The suit that once made him look untouchable now hangs wrong on his body, wrinkled where it shouldn’t be, pulled tight across a back that no longer knows how to stand straight. “I’m still the head here!” he snapped, voice louder than he felt. His hands trembled as they hovered uselessly. “You don’t—You can’t—know what you’re doing!Everything stopped. The air itself seemed to stiffen. Johnny’s fist hovered mid-motion, Darius’ body rigid, the room suspended in disbelief. Armed men appeared, their boots heavy on the floor, guns trained. Every heartbeat was audible, every breath a thunderclap. Johnny’s eyes scanned the barrels aimed at him. Each one a promise of instant
Chapter 84: : A gun
The gun is real.That is what breaks the room.Not the threat.Not the shouting.Not even Darius’s face twisted with rage.It’s the black metal aimed at a human forehead inside an office with glass walls and branded posters and quarterly reports still glowing on screens.Someone gasps.Someone else whispers, *“Is that a gun?”*Chairs scrape softly as people lean back without standing. Phones freeze mid-record. A woman near the conference table covers her mouth with both hands, eyes wide, body locked.Security is mentioned—half a sentence, unfinished—but no one moves. No one wants to be the first body between a bullet and a reputation.Darius’s hand shakes just enough to notice if you’re looking for it.He laughs. Too fast. Too sharp.“You think—” He scoffs. “You think fists mean anything here?”He angles the gun slightly, correcting his aim like it’s a presentation pointer.“All that confidence,” he continues, voice too loud, too fast. “All that posturing. Karate? Fists?” He snorts. “
Chapter 83: You will destroy me?
“You will destroy me?”Darius King threw his head back and laughed—loud, sharp, theatrical. “You hear that?” he said to no one in particular, spreading his arms. “Did everyone hear that?”“He is going to destroy me?” he said, spreading his arms as if presenting a comedian to the room. The laughter didn’t stay with him. It spread.A ripple first—confused chuckles from people who didn’t know why they were laughing but understood they were supposed to. Then louder. Freer. Someone near the printers snorted. Another person actually clapped once before catching themselves.Phones came out. Subtle at first. Then less subtle.Johnny stood where he was.Still. Straight. Hands at his sides.A statue dropped into the middle of a circus.“You’ll pay.” Johnny said again It didn’t sound dramatic. It didn’t rise. It didn’t shake.That was why the nearest people leaned in without realizing it.Darius blinked once. “I’m sorry?”Johnny continued, voice level. “You’ll eat your words. You’ll beg. And
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