Chapter 13
Solomon kept his eyes locked on the door after Yuvia warned him the men were coming. The wood was thudding—banging hard. He had no doubt these men were armed; if they managed to break in, he'd have no way to counterattack or save himself.
How was he going to get them out?
The card had already proven it could slice through wood and even the reinforced roof. Could it cut a larger hole—one big enough for both him and Yuvia to slip through?
Solomon gestured frantically to his sister.
"Stay silent. Don't make a sound. We're getting out of here before they break through."
He focused on the ceiling, his mind racing to calculate how to widen the opening. His brow furrowed in deep concentration until, finally, an idea clicked. Solomon grabbed the bar chairs and began stacking them, one on top of the other. The makeshift tower grew taller with every addition until it nearly reached the ceiling.
Then, his eyes caught a ladder leaning awkwardly against the wall—randomly placed, as if by sheer luck. He didn't stop to question why it was there; he just grabbed it.
He braced the ladder against the stacked chairs. The structure held firm. Solomon climbed carefully until he reached the uppermost chair, his hands finally brushing against the metal of the roof. The card was still embedded there.
He gripped it and began to cut, slicing through the ceiling like a knife through paper. A sharp, metallic screech rang out—the sound of the system-enhanced card grinding against platinum. It should have been impossible to cut such a material, but this was no ordinary tool.
He kept cutting, the screeching of metal competing with the frantic banging at the door.
Solomon glanced down at Yuvia. she was shaking, nearly paralyzed by the weight of her fear. "God," Solomon sighed, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. He needed her to be calm. If she broke down now, their chances of survival dropped to zero.
"Solomon, the door! It's breaking—they're inside!" Yuvia cried out.
"They're what?!" Solomon spun around.
He saw them immediately: the Red Panda Casino men. They burst into the room, their eyes scanning the dark interior until they landed on Yuvia. She was in immediate, lethal danger.
One of the men leveled his gun at her. "Young man, you'd better get down from there right now, or your sister gets a bullet."
Solomon stood his ground atop the chairs, staring the man down. His face remained unnervingly calm—a mask of absolute indifference. It was a facade, a performance honed by years of surviving the D-Class zone. He knew that showing fear was an invitation to be trampled, just like his mother had been.
"I'll come down. Don't touch my sister," Solomon shouted, his voice echoing from the rafters.
The men laughed, the sound harsh and mocking. "That's it. Come down slowly and we promise we won't touch a hair on her head."
Solomon began his descent, his boots clicking against the metal rungs of the ladder. Click, click, click.
Suddenly, a deafening crack filled the room. Solomon turned just as smoke curled from the barrel of one of the guards' guns. The bullet whizzed past him, slamming into the wall. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird.
He had almost died.
If there was one thing Solomon truly feared, it was death. He considered himself a coward when it came to his own end; the thought of his life being snuffed out terrified him. It was a weakness the system had exploited more than once. The only time that fear had vanished was when he gave his kidney to Cassy. That was the difference between dying for love and dying for nothing. One was a choice; the other felt like a robbery.
What can I use as a shield? What can I use as a distraction?
The questions fired through his brain. He scanned the room for anything—bottles, glass, wine, more chairs. None of it would stop a dozen bullets. He needed something tall, something heavy that could fall and crush their momentum.
Then, a jolt of inspiration hit him. The tower of chairs he had just climbed was long, heavy, and perfectly positioned. With enough force, the entire structure could be brought down on the men. It wouldn't kill them all, but it would create the chaos he needed.
He needed to signal Yuvia. It was a desperate gamble, but he was their only hope.
Solomon took a deep breath, moving as soon as he reached the floor. He stayed low, his back bent as he crept behind the furniture. The men lost sight of him for a moment as he moved with cautious, silent steps. Luckily, his position gave him a clear path back to the chair tower. Even if they spotted him now, the bulk of the chairs would act as a temporary shield.
He locked eyes with Yuvia. "Hey! Over here!" he roared.
The men spun toward his voice. In that split second, Solomon hissed, "Yuvia, run!"
She bolted, sliding under a heavy table just as Solomon put his weight into the structure. The chair tower tilted, then collapsed like a falling skyscraper. It crashed into the guards with a thunderous roar of splintering wood and metal.
Yuvia crawled out from her hiding spot while Solomon lunged for a gun that had been knocked across the floor. He didn't care about the ethics of it anymore; he had one singular goal.
He snatched up the weapon and scanned the wreckage. Some of the men were groaning, pinned under the debris, but they were still alive. Solomon raised the gun, his finger trembling on the trigger as he found the man who had threatened his sister.
"You were going to sell her," Solomon said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous vibrato. "Turn her into a sex slave for the S-Class."
The man shook his head frantically. "No, no, please…"
Solomon's jaw tightened. "I don't care what you have to say."
His hand shook, but his mind was made up. He pulled the trigger.
The gunshot roared through the small space.
"Brother... you shot him," Yuvia whispered, her eyes wide with shock. She stared at the scene, unable to reconcile the boy she knew with the man who had just taken a life.
"Should I have let him shoot you instead?" Solomon asked, his voice cold.
Yuvia looked at him, a faint, sad smile touching her lips. "This isn't new, is it?
You've always been... violent when you need to be. But you're my brother. I know you. I don't blame you."
Solomon stared at her, stunned by her words, then clenched his teeth. "Let's get out of here," he muttered. "There's no time to go back to the roof. We're taking the door."
Yuvia followed as he slipped out into the corridor. They moved like shadows, navigating the halls until they finally burst out of the Red Panda Casino into the cool night air.
Outside, Solomon took a jagged breath. His pocket buzzed, and flashes of the shooting played behind his eyes—the blood, the smoke, the look on Yuvia's face. He felt physically ill. He had always believed he was in control of his darkness, but now he felt it slipping. He didn't want to look insane. He didn't want to end up in a ward again.
"Solomon, are you okay?" Yuvia asked, snapping him back to reality.
"I'm fine," he murmured.
A system notification chimed in his mind:
> $5,000 has been credited to the account for the successful rescue.
> Reward for defeating hostile entities.
> System loading…
> Upgrade complete. Level 2 Tier attained.
Host, you have limited time remaining to complete your primary mission. Failure will result in permanent physical damage. Proceed immediately.
"I'm so tired of this," Solomon whispered. "All of it."
He sat alone later that night, the mission timer ticking away in the corner of his vision.
He thought of his grandmother's tired eyes, Laura's laughter, and Yuvia's exhausted face after a double shift. He was tired, but "tired" didn't pay the bills or keep the monsters away.
"System," he said quietly. "The next mission. Give it to me."
The system chimed. A new alert appeared. He was still a D-Class nobody, but that was about to change. He realized now that walking away from the system wasn't an option. It was selfish. He might hate his own life, but quitting would doom everyone he loved.
If he had to be a puppet to keep his family safe, then so be it. If that was all his life was worth, then maybe—just maybe—it was finally worth something after all.