Chapter Four: The Assassin

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"Number 12582, you have accepted the contract and gained permission to enter the Infinite World."

...

Mission Difficulty: D (Easy)

Main Quest Completion Reward: 800 Universal Points.

Main Quest Failure Penalty: 8,000 Universal Points

Hint: People possess different abilities, thus their roles differ. The tasks assigned to each of you are not the same. Therefore, divulging any information about mission difficulty or rewards to others is strictly forbidden.

The last line of the prompt was four large, blood-red characters, grinning maliciously: Otherwise, you will be erased.

August 15th, 1993, 8:30 AM

3500 meters west of the rendezvous point, West Street

The two ran swiftly. Yang Wentian lagged half a step behind, adjusting his posture while keeping the corner of his eye fixed on Zhu Cunjia's hand, occasionally tightening his grip on the knife's handle.

After entering the scenario, Yang Wentian had immediately drawn his weapon. The handle was entirely black, streamlined, and when held resembled a short baton. But at its end was a small button; a light press, and a two-foot-long blade of cold, gleaming steel would spring forth, capable of reflecting dazzling moonlight.

A finely-forged, razor-sharp knife. The result of Basic Forging Technique, valued at 2,000 Universal Points. Attributes: Attack 18-23, Durability 11, Agility +5, Critical Hit Rate +1%.

Yang Wentian had acquired it in the previous scenario, where luck had allowed him to turn the tables on a teammate who had intended to kill him. He’d obtained the blade from the traitor’s corpse. Afterwards, he trained specifically, earning Basic Dagger Mastery lv3 and Thrust lv5.

This world was merciless beyond compare. The bastardly Lord God would assign tasks that were virtually impossible; teammates, treacherous as whores' sons, might betray you at any moment. In the past three worlds, Yang Wentian had faced death at least twenty times—each time, survival came by a different, often bizarre, twist: once a boss, in its death throes, killed the traitor who’d meant to betray him; sometimes, naive newcomers, still bound by the morality of their original worlds, chose not to betray him and saved his life; most often, the traitor simply misjudged the situation and abandoned the attack.

This guy claimed to want a deal. Fine, let’s have one. Even if he was scheming like those bastards before him, Yang Wentian was unafraid. Watching Zhu Cunjia’s throat from five meters away—the standard distance for veterans of these cycles—he pictured his blade slicing the man’s arteries, blood spurting forth—even if this was a digitized world and a slit throat was not instantly fatal, the blow, both physical and psychological, was devastating.

“Have you seen this kind of situation in previous worlds?” In a dead-end alley, Zhu Cunjia stopped, hands deep in his bulging pockets, facing Yang Wentian.

This place favored close combat over firearms—Zhu Cunjia’s choice to talk here was a sign of genuine intent... Yang Wentian eyed his pockets, guessing at possible weapons. “All the missions I’ve taken so far followed the main storyline, usually lasting twelve hours.”

“Yes.” Zhu Cunjia sighed. “I’ve heard from some friends that occasionally—very rarely—the system alters the mission according to the entrant’s abilities.”

“The difficulty changes?”

“No. That’s the key—the mission may become much harder, but the overall difficulty of the scenario remains the same.”

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Yang Wentian took a moment to digest this. “So, we have to choose the right path? If we don’t follow certain routes, we might... all die?”

“Exactly. Many prefer to act alone in these scenarios, so when this happens, the mortality rate skyrockets. How much do you think this information is worth?”

Zhu Cunjia’s expression was calm, gentle, sincere—at least on the surface.

What was lurking in the shadows behind him? Was a gun about to be raised? Yang Wentian gritted his teeth. “It might not be as you say.”

“I know. But if I’m right, that’s trouble for all of us. This information could save your life—what price do you put on that?”

“If you’re right, I’ll pay,” Yang Wentian replied darkly. “As long as I make it through alive.”

“Exactly. I’m concerned too.” Zhu Cunjia touched his nose with his left hand, leaving it out of his pocket. “I suggest we cooperate first—none of this matters if we die.”

After a brief silence, Yang Wentian nodded.

Agree for now—if anything goes wrong, he’d adapt. He tucked the knife handle into his waistband, a show of good faith.

Zhu Cunjia smiled in return, friendly.

After that, they parted ways. Yang Wentian didn’t know what Zhu Cunjia intended to do, but he knew what he had to.

Apart from his weapon and combat skills, he relied on nothing else; aside from effort and caution, he believed in no other method.

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August 15th, 1993, 8:45 AM

4500 meters west of the rendezvous point, West Street

“Hey, you! Down on the ground!”

Yang Wentian, who had just kicked a mailbox several times, heard the shout from a nearby police officer.

The officer carried a baton, a pistol at his waist, and the distance between them was shrinking.

There were few pedestrians in this corner. Even if gunshots rang out, not many would notice.

Seeing that Yang Wentian was not obeying, the officer reached for his holster, ready to draw his gun.

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A flash of steel, blood sprayed. The officer cried out, gritting his teeth through the agony in his shoulder as he drew his pistol.

“You have inflicted 20 points of damage to the Grizzly Town Police Officer.”

“You attacked a Grizzly Town Police Officer. Failure to cover your tracks will result in being wanted.”

Stronger than average, but nothing exceptional. Yang Wentian yanked out his blade and stabbed the officer in the abdomen. The man cursed, trying to dodge, but was still struck.

Bang! The gun fired. Prepared, Yang Wentian dodged, then slashed at the officer’s throat. The officer tried to block with his hand, but Yang Wentian drove his knee into the man’s gut.

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A dozen minutes later, a police car arrived, responding to the call. The officers who disembarked found a gruesome scene at the doorway and immediately began shouting in alarm. Cries, curses, and the wailing of ambulances erupted, throwing the entire street into chaos.

Meanwhile, the perpetrator sat in a building several streets away, panting, going over the information gleaned from the recent fight.

Grizzly City Police Officer: Health 600 points;

Skills: Basic Firearms Mastery lv3; Basic Grappling Combat lv3

Equipment: Beretta M9 (handgun). Damage: 20–35

No special skills. Usually carries two magazines. That’s all for a regular officer, but 600 health points...

In modern scenarios, an ordinary cop’s health is usually 60—meaning three slashes would suffice. In initial scenarios like Resident Evil, police should be even weaker.

What about the zombies? The special teams, and the Lickers?

Yang Wentian sighed.

No matter what happened, as long as he had his trusty weapon, he would never be without the strength to fight.

With this thought, he raised the knife handle, shielding his eyes from the sun.