Sam pulled the apartment door shut behind him and let out a long, heavy sigh.
The duplex still felt almost empty, with just the basic furniture the realtor had left behind. It was a decent start, sure, but nowhere near what he actually needed.
He grabbed his phone and made a string of calls. Less than two hours later, a crew of delivery guys started showing up with high-end stuff. Sam had picked modern but low-key pieces: a sleek black leather couch, a simple minimalist coffee table, a big comfortable king-size bed, and solid cabinets. Everything in dark, neutral tones. Nothing flashy. Nothing that would draw eyes for the wrong reasons.
While the delivery team was busy assembling the furniture in the living room and bedrooms, Sam slipped out quickly to a specialty store and bought practical clothes — dark tactical pants, tight black t-shirts, hoodies, sturdy boots, and a couple of tailored suits for business meetings. He paid for it all in cash.
By late afternoon, the place already looked different — clean, discreet, and functional.
But he wasn't done yet.
Sam chose the smallest bedroom, the one tucked away at the back of the lower floor. He called a company that specialized in soundproofing and had them redo the entire room. In just a few hours, the walls were covered with high-density material, the floor got professional tatami mats, and the training equipment started rolling in: a heavy punching bag, pull-up bars, adjustable weights, knife targets, and even a small makeshift ring. Everything was completely soundproofed. No one in the building would hear a single sound.
When night finally fell, the little room had been completely transformed into his private combat gym. Sam tested the insulation by slamming the bag hard a few times. Absolute silence on the other side of the walls. Perfec
Aqui está a tradução para o inglês, reescrita de forma bem humana, natural e fluida — como se estivéssemos realmente dentro da cena familiar, sentindo as personalidades, o carinho e o leve interesse que surge:
---
On the same floor, right next door, Helen Stacy was finishing putting away the dishes after dinner. Philip, Howard, and Simon were still running around the living room, bursting with leftover energy.
"Mom, the new neighbor seems pretty cool," Philip, the oldest of the three boys, said while devouring a sandwich.
Helen smiled, remembering the young man with dark hair and striking blue eyes who had helped her with the grocery bags earlier that day.
"Yeah… he does seem like a good kid. A little serious for his age, but really polite."
The front door opened and Gwen Stacy walked in, still wearing her Midtown High School uniform, backpack slung over one shoulder. Unlike her younger brothers, she carried herself with a calmer, almost adult-like composure for someone her age.
"I'm home," she said, calmly pulling out her earbuds.
"Hi, sweetie. How was your day?" Helen asked.
Gwen set her backpack down in the corner and headed straight for the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water.
"It was good. I finished that report for Oscorp today. Dr. Connors really liked my analysis on the new plasma stabilizers." She gave a small but proud smile. "I have an advanced physics test tomorrow, so I'll study a bit after dinner."
Helen looked at her daughter with warm affection and pride.
"You never stop, do you?"
Gwen just shrugged, but her eyes showed quiet determination.
"Somebody has to keep the grades up in this house."
That was when Philip interrupted, still chewing:
"Mom, we were just talking about the new neighbor! He moved into the apartment next door today."
Gwen raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.
"New neighbor? What's he like?"
Helen answered while clearing the table:
"His name's Sam. He's nineteen, lives alone, studies programming and Law at the same time, and he already has his own tech company called Sony. He was really nice when he helped me with the bags earlier."
Gwen tilted her head, processing the information quickly.
"Nineteen and he already owns his own company? That's… impressive. He must be really disciplined." She paused for a second, then added in a lighter tone, "I hope he can handle the noise from the three musketeers next door." Gwen glanced at her little brothers with a playful smile. "If he likes silence, he's gonna have to adapt fast."
Helen shook her head, smiling.
"Be nice to him, Gwen. He seems like someone who really values his privacy."
Gwen took a sip of water, her expression thoughtful.
"Privacy is good… but if he needs anything, we can help. Neighbors should look out for each other, right?" She smiled in that mature way of hers. "Besides, it's never a bad thing to have someone smart around. Who knows, maybe he can even give me some programming tips."
Philip, mouth still full, teased:
"You just wanna know if he's cute!"
Gwen rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide a tiny smirk.
"Smart and cute would be a bonus. But the important thing is that he doesn't cause any trouble. We already have enough drama around here."
Helen shook her head again, still smiling.
"You two… Come on, let's finish dinner. Gwen, don't study too late."
"Got it, Mom."
---
The next morning, Sam woke up early.
The sun hadn't fully risen yet when he made his way down to the room he had turned into a gym. He slipped into his black training clothes and, as he flicked on the dim lights, allowed himself a small, lopsided smile. *Another day in this madness… and I'm still alive. That's already a win,* he thought, feeling a faint wave of excitement run through him.
He activated the punching bag.
The first movements came out light and fluid — jumps, spins in the air, and precise strikes that seemed to dance on their own. Even with only 1% released, his body responded with natural grace. Then, without warning, the rhythm changed: short, explosive punches, violent elbows, brutal knees, and imaginary takedowns, all executed with cold efficiency and minimal wasted motion. It wasn't anger. It was focus. It was control.
His mind watched every strike with surgical attention, correcting posture, calculating angles, reaction times, and weak points of the invisible opponent. Sweat ran down his face, but Sam felt a pleasant mental clarity, almost refreshing. *This body is good… young, strong. I can work with this,* he thought, and a satisfied little smile appeared again.
The workout lasted nearly two hours. When he finished, he took a deep breath, ran a hand through his wet hair, and murmured to himself:
"Good work, Sam."
He took a quick shower, put on a simple but elegant dark gray suit, and headed down to the garage. He stopped in front of the matte black Ferrari 488. For a second, he ran his hand over the cold hood, appreciating the aggressive yet understated design.
"Let's see what you've got today, beautiful," he said quietly.
He got into the car. The V8 engine roared to life with a deep, powerful growl. Sam shifted into gear and pulled out of the garage, feeling the vehicle's power respond to his touch. As he drove through the streets of Queens, the city was slowly waking up: lights turning on in buildings, the smell of fresh bread from bakeries, hurried pedestrians clutching coffee. He kept one hand on the wheel, relaxed but alert. He automatically analyzed alternate routes, blind spots, and quick exits — pure reflex. Even so, he felt a light good mood. *New life, new car, new company… things are starting to fall into place.*
Fifteen minutes later, he stopped in front of the modest five-story building. The simple sign still read Sony Tech. Sam parked in the owner's spot, stepped out, and adjusted his jacket. The contrast between the luxurious Ferrari and the ordinary building was intentional — he wanted to be underestimated.
The security guard at the front desk greeted him with surprise and respect.
"Good morning, Mr. Winchester!"
"Good morning, Jorge. Everything quiet around here?" Sam replied with a small nod and a polite smile.
He took the elevator to the third floor. The moment the doors opened, a blue notification appeared in his vision:
■ SYSTEM ■
■ MISSION 2 ACTIVATED: Internal Cleanup ■
Someone is draining resources from Sony Tech.
Objective: Take 100% control of the company.
Reward: +5% for Batman and Light Yagami | +7% for Sherlock Holmes and John Wick
Progress: 0%
Sam read the message without changing his expression. Only a cold, calculating glint flashed briefly in his eyes. He dismissed the system and walked straight to the center of the floor.
"Everyone in the meeting room. Now," he said, his voice clear, firm, and authoritative, but without shouting.
The five employees exchanged nervous glances and quickly obeyed.
In the meeting room, Sam closed the door, stood at the head of the table, and projected the financial reports onto the large screen. His posture was calm, almost relaxed, but his presence was undeniable.
"Good morning, everyone," he began, his voice low and controlled. "Starting today, I am taking full control of Sony Tech. Every decision goes through me. No exceptions. No expenses without my direct approval. No suppliers without a contract reviewed by me."
He paused, looking each of them in the eyes.
"In the last three months, more than 100 thousand dollars were cleverly diverted. I know exactly who did it."
The silence grew heavy. Marcus Reed and Laura Chen visibly paled.
Sam continued, his tone cold but never raised:
"Marcus and Laura, you're fired immediately. Your access has already been revoked. The supplier Nexus Solutions is also out. Any attempt to contact us will be considered extortion, and I will handle it in the harshest way possible."
He looked at the three remaining employees, who stared at him in shock.
"You three stay. We're reorganizing everything today. I want new departments: Development, Marketing, Finance, and Digital Security. I will personally supervise each one. If you have good ideas, bring them straight to me. If you make the same mistake they did… I will find out. Understood?"
The three nodded quickly, still stunned by how fast and calmly cold Sam was.
He closed the laptop, gave a brief, reserved half-smile.
"Great. Let's get to work. This company is truly ours now."
As he left the room, the system notification appeared:
■ MISSION 2: Internal Cleanup ■ Progress: 70%
That night, long after the city had gone to sleep, Sam changed clothes. He put on an all-black outfit, pulled the hood of his jacket low over his face, and slipped on silent boots. He left the building through the service exit at the back, avoiding the garage. He didn't want to leave any traces.
Moving through the dark streets of Queens like a living shadow, he vanished into alleys and backstreets, dodging cameras and busy roads.
He started with Marcus Reed.
He slipped into the apartment without leaving a single sign. He waited in the shadows. When the man came home and turned on the light, Sam was already behind him. A precise strike to the trachea. One quick, brutal movement. The neck snapped with a dry crack. Silent. Efficient.
Next, Laura Chen.
The same surgical precision. He entered like smoke. He waited until she stepped out of the shower. A hard blow to the back of the neck. As she fell, Sam finished it with a clean stab to the heart. She died without a sound.
In both apartments, he found more than 100 thousand dollars hidden in false bottoms, secret drawers, and small safes. He put it all into his black backpack without emotion.
Finally, he walked to the Nexus Solutions warehouse. He broke in at 1:47 a.m. He took down two security guards with fast, brutal strikes, leaving them unconscious. He reached Victor Kane. The man tried to grab a pistol. Sam pinned him against the desk, forearm pressing hard against his throat.
"Where's the rest of my money?" he asked, his voice low and icy.
Victor gave up everything. Sam took the remaining 47 thousand, transferred what he could, and erased all records.
Before leaving, he looked at the man with cold eyes:
"If you or anyone else ever mentions my name or Sony Tech again… I'll come back. And there won't be anyone left."
Sam walked back to the apartment on foot, the heavy backpack on his shoulders, body tired but mind at peace. He felt no pleasure. He felt no guilt. Just the quiet satisfaction of someone protecting what was his.
When he finally stepped into the duplex, he dropped the backpack on the living room table and sank onto the couch. He took a deep breath and stared at the lights of New York through the window.
The system notified him:
■ MISSION 2: COMPLETED ■
Reward released:
• +5% for Batman and Light Yagami
• +7% for Sherlock Holmes and John Wick
■ Current Status: Batman — 6% | Sherlock Holmes — 8% | John Wick — 8% | Light Yagami — 6%
Sam felt a light wave of energy flow through his body. He closed his eyes for a second and let a small, satisfied smile touch his lips.
"First obstacle removed."
He sat on the couch a few more minutes, looking at the backpack full of money on the table. More than 147 thousand dollars. Dirty money that now belonged to him. He stood up, opened the backpack, and calmly counted part of the cash. Then he stored everything in the hidden safe he had installed behind a false panel in the living room wall.
"I'm going to use this to make the company grow for real," he thought, feeling a genuine spark of excitement. "Good games. Useful apps. Something that actually matters."
He drank a glass of water, changed clothes, and lay down on the new king-size bed. The apartment still smelled of fresh furniture. The silence felt good.
Before falling asleep, one last notification appeared:
■ ANTI-HERO BONUS ■
Nightwing Equipment Map — Level 1 partially unlocked.
Sam smiled in the dark.
"Tomorrow… we'll see what comes next."
And for the first time since waking up in this new world, he drifted off with the feeling that things were finally starting to move in the right direction.