Bang* Bang* Bang*

Thud* Thud* Thud*

 

Blood splatters as you shoot your gun, your expression numb as bodies pile on the floor and eventually disappear.

During the first few minutes, you hesitated and even unconsciously aimed away from the targets, and when you downed your first target, you almost puked. It was too real.

However, by convincing yourself that it was just a simulation, you continued to shoot live target after another, your inner disgust and hesitation turning into numbness, a self-defense mechanism installed in the human mind.

 

Bang*

"Ah! My leg!!" - The target screams as it falls on the floor while clutching his leg.

Bang*

"Gurgle*" - Another target grabs his throat as he slumps to the floor, a blood pool forming on the ground.

Bang*

"Whimper*" - A german shepherd falls and rolls on the floor as it heaves its final breaths.

Bang*

"Ahhh! It hurts, it hurts!!!"

Bang*

"Mommy..."

Bang*

"Whine*"

Bang*

"I don't wanna die..."

...

 

At first, these cries and reactions made you wince and even stop shooting, but at some point, you stopped caring. Your mind philtered these unnecessary voices, as it felt painful to listen to them.

Your mind's only concern is to shoot the living targets in front of you, whether you like it or not. It was your decision, after all, be it good or bad.

As for regretting it? Perhaps. Perhaps not. You are not sure yourself, but do what you have to do, as your father always said.

 

 

Time passed by in a flash— or perhaps painfully slowly. You fail to differentiate between the two in your mind-numbing blur.

Bang* Bang* Bang* Click*

You hit two of the walking targets but missed the last one. At the same time, your ammo ran out. By the time you reloaded your gun, the target was up for too long and disappeared, marking a Game Over.

"Congratulations, Iver! Your High Score on Very Easy Mode is now 47." - Rosa said by the side.

"Mm..." - You grunt, barely acknowledging her words.

In Very Easy Mode, there are only targets walking about randomly. The goal is to shoot a target that pops up within ten seconds. If the target doesn't get shot within the allotted time, it's Game Over.

The score is the number of targets shot and disabled, and the rate of targets popping up increases as time passes. Naturally, the target spawning rate becomes too high at some point, so losing is inevitable even if you perform perfectly.

"You know, I'm proud of you. You improved so much in just two hours. In the beginning, you missed nearly all the shots and retched and almost cried when you hit one, but now, you are reaching the standard of a rookie cop." - Rosa said by the side.

"Mm..." - You grunt again, barely listening to her.

"...Okay, I think you need some time off to digest your gains. Time is up anyways." - Rosa said after noticing your zombie-like reactions.

"Mm... What?! Time is up already?!" - You shake your head, only now aware that you were shooting for another two hours.

"Yeah, Iver. It's already 15:01. The VR machine will wake you up in... now." - Just as Rosa finished her words, your vision tunneled, and everything went dark.

 

 

 

After exiting the VR, you spend the next three hours eating lunch, watching TV, and contemplating life.

You shot over a thousand life-like targets in two hours. Even if it was in a daze, that is what happened. The strangest part was that you didn't feel guilty about it, and it felt normal, even.

It wasn't a feeling of madness or power drunkenness. No, it was a sort of callousness developed by the mind to protect one's sanity, akin to a veteran's mentality. But unlike a veteran, you did not kill others for your craft. Your mind developed a killer's callouses by itself.

Unknowingly, from a wimpy guy that almost pukes at the thought of shooting someone, you are now numb to the idea of killing, let alone shooting. Although you are not immune to the effects of killing others, you will not hesitate to shoot anymore, and the mental burden from doing so would be smaller.

And this is the effect of two hours.

Two. Hours.

Just imagining soldiers and cops training with this simulation for months and years makes you shudder.

What kind of monsters are the soldiers of the future?

"Hey, Rosa, do all soldiers and cops in your world train with that simulation? How do they compare to my world?" - You ask.

[Yes, they all do, and are you asking me how genetically enhanced and over century-advanced soldiers compare to your world standards?] - Rosa asked dubiously.

"Kind of, yeah." - You admit, curious.

[Sigh, very well. In my world, a regular cop needs to have the training level of a full-time SWAT member of your world, both physically and skill-wise. As for special forces, they make your navy seals look like untrained recruits. To put it bluntly, it's like comparing civil war marines to modern marines. They are on another level overall.]

"Fuck..."

You need not ask more. The comparison was clear. Futuristic soldiers are all monsters.

 

 

Sometime later, after grooming yourself and appearing somewhat presentable, you take public transportation and arrive at Mateo's family home, a humble two-floor multi-use building with the family restaurant on the bottom floor, a traditional Mexican restaurant.

Since it was Sunday evening, the small family restaurant was closed. However, you could see the lights on the second floor through an open window. You walk to a side alley, climb a familiar stone staircase connected to the house and leading to the second floor, and knock on their wooden door.

Knock* Knock* Knock*

 

A few moments later, the door got opened by a plump clean-shaven man in his mid-40s. When he saw me, he immediately broke into a smile.

"Iver! ¡Qué milagro!" - The man said and reached to give you a handshake.

"Good to see you, Mr. Carballo! I hope I didn't come late." - You reply with a smile and firmly shake his hand.

"Haha! You just got right on time! Please, come in." - Mr. Carballo let you go and led you inside.

While going in, you noticed faint black bruises on his face and arms, likely from the beating he got a few weeks prior. It made you angry inside.

"Those fuckers got it lightly." - You thought venomously, considering whether to ask Rosa to make the loan sharks suffer some more.

Mr. Carballo, unaware of your dangerous thoughts, continued to lead you to the living room, where you saw Mateo and two of his three siblings at the dinner table. 

"Iver!" - The youngest sibling, a 10-year-old boy, jumped from his seat and ran over to hug you.

"Hi, little Pedro! Did you grow taller again?" - You smile and hug the boy while ruffling his hair.

"A bit, hehe." - Pedro chuckled and let go.

This boy is Pedro, the lastborn of the Carballo family. He is a chubby kid that resembles Mateo when he was younger, being hyperactive and rash. You used to babysit him together with Mateo, so your relationship is close.

"Hi, Iver. Thanks for coming over, man." - Mateo went over and gave you a bro handshake.

"Sure, dude. It's been a while since I had a Sunday dinner with your family." - You smile and return the handshake.

"Yeah, it's been a while. Come sit next to me." - Mateo gestured and went back to his seat, and you followed.

While walking, you passed by a nerdy-looking 17-year-old girl with acne scars and glasses, focused on her phone.

"Hey, Ariadna." - You say to the focused girl.

"Hey, Iver. I'm kind of busy right now." - She said while she kept moving her fingers.

"Oh? From the looks of it, she is texting someone. Did she finally get a friend?" - You thought to yourself in wonder.

Although your thoughts were rather mean, they were not unjustified.

Ariadna is a typical borderline autistic introverted anti-social computer nerd, lacking any interest in socializing with others outside of video games or studying, and hates makeup and girl stuff. Any friendship she had only lasted because her parents befriended her classmates' parents, but she lacked the social skills to maintain the said friendships, leading to her being friendless when she turned 14. You are probably her best friend(acquaintance) beside her family members and game friends.

However, that didn't bother the scarecrow-like plain-looking nerd. She enjoyed her solitude and comfort zone.

 

While you were thinking about the oddity of it, two women exited the kitchen holding plates, one older and one younger.

"Food is ready!" - The older one declared while bringing a large plate of hot food.

As she brought the food over, she saw you and smiled.

"Gulliver! Good to see you!" - The woman said while placing the food on the table.

"It's good to see you too, Ms. Carballo." - You reply with a genuine smile.

She is Ms. Carballo, a middle-aged and skinny Latina with signs of past beauty. She used to be a curvacious and beautiful woman, but the chemotherapy and surgeries did a number on her, aging her by a few years.

"Hi, Iver." - The younger girl set two plates down, gently put her hand on your shoulder, and said briefly with a pleasant voice.

"Hi, Alexia." - You smile at Mateo's beautiful sister while gently rubbing her hand twice and letting go.

Alexia is a 20-year-old girl with a voluptuous body, luscious hair, and a cute face. She is an ex-cheerleader, has an outgoing personality, is optimistic, is a social butterfly, likes small children, is responsible, likes girly stuff, and hates studying with a passion. She is a stark contrast to her younger sister, Ariadna, so much so that many wonder if they are siblings.

Since her grades were too poor to enter a good college and her mother got hospitalized, she dropped out of high school and took over all the household chores to help her mother and support the family. If someone asked you who is the best housewife material you know, you would say it's her.

 

As soon as Ms. Carballo and Alexia took their seats, Mr. Carballo, as the head of the family, spoke with clasped hands, "Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen." - The rest of you clasp your hands and say before eating.

You are not exactly a religious type like Mr. and Ms. Carballo, but it doesn't cost you any money to give some respect to their beliefs.

 

 

After gorging yourself with fried cheese sticks with avocado sauce, filled peppers, chicken empanadas, salad, and rice pudding, you sat together in the living room to chat with everyone except Pedro. He ran back to his room to play.

You, Mateo, and Alexia each had a homemade mojito, while Mr. Carballo had a tequila on the rocks.¹With ice

Ms. Carballo couldn't drink due to her medical condition, while Ariadna was too young and didn't like drinking alcohol, instead having some coffee.

However, you also found it odd. Ariadna almost always ran straight to her room after dinner, but she stayed while texting on the phone.

It wouldn't be so strange with any other teenage girl, but it was weird with Ariadna.

But out of respect, you don't mention it as you carry on your idle conversation with the Carballo family.

At least, that was until Mr. Carballo sent a curveball.

"Iver, I don't know how you did it, but thank you for helping us out with the loan sharks." - Mr. Carballo said bluntly after taking a sip.

"Pfft* Cough* Cough*" - You almost choke on your drink.

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile—

Four people were driving inside a black Mercedes Benz, driving inside the streets of Los Angeles.

"Boss, do we really have to see that depraved old coot?"

The driver, a muscular and tattooed man, spoke.

"Yeah, boss, I don't like that feng-shui mambo-Jambo or whatever he calls it. He is even charging 10 grand for an hour of his time. What a rip-off."

The man in the front seat, a skinny bald guy with similar tattoos dressed like an office worker, added with a disgruntled face.

"I also don't like those so-called fortune-tellers, but I'm not letting go of the asshole that made me lose over 5 million."

The boss, a bespectacled geeky-looking man in his early 30s that most would never think is one of the three most terrifying crime bosses in LA, said with a voice laced with venom.

The money they lost was not only the direct loans he gave out but also the interest money he received and investments he made. These investments included all the people he planned on forcing to work in their rackets and the businesses he planned to buy for cheap and then sell for a profit.

However, the 5 million they lost was not that big of a deal. It came from a side business in Sacramento, after all. Although it was a painful loss, it wasn't enough to cripple them since their main business is in LA, where he lives. The real problem was something else.

"Honey, don't forget that they have dirt on us. Dirt that can hurt our reputation and destroy our foundation in Sacramento city."

The woman beside him reminded him while rubbing his hand. She is a beautiful Latina in her late twenties wearing expensive jewelry and clothes and the wife of the crime boss. 

"Sigh, I know, dear. Even if all that dirt is fake, it looks authentic enough that even I almost believe it, let alone anyone else." - The crime boss sighed, removed his glasses, and rubbed his weary eyes.

Felipe Espiga, the crime boss, hasn't slept since last night. Even after he returned all the money, he still couldn't sleep due to fear. It was like a gun was being pointed at him, an uncomfortable and nerve wreaking experience he didn't have for a long time.

"There, there, honey. It's okay. Once Mr. Xun gives us a name and location, I will personally go over and turn the fucker into meat paste and feed him to our dogs." - The woman soothed in a sweet voice while saying those chilling words.

The driver and slim man visibly shivered at her words. They didn't doubt the woman's words. She will do it, and painfully and cruelly.

"Oh, I know you will, dear." - Felipe caressed his beautiful wife's cheek lovingly and kissed her lightly.

The two subordinates could only feel fear and respect for their boss, the man who tamed this beautiful monster.

 

 

The car continued to drive until they arrived at a large Chinese hotel/restaurant/casino in Chinatown, The Emperor's fortune, a semi-legal establishment controlled by the triads that also dealt with some less legal side businesses.²It doesn't exist, I think

China and the Chinese people have recently gained power due to their large population since fourteen years ago. They have four times the number of superpowered people in their country, and many of them left China and went to other countries to seek their fortune, especially in America, and many joined the triads instead of joining the superpower work agency.

Because they have more backbone, the triads have gained power and growth in recent years. That, and it is more difficult for English-speaking cops to track down and apprehend mandarin-speaking Asian criminals in the middle of Chinatown, where they are like fish in the ocean.

 

After the driver parked the car, the driver and subordinate opened the doors respectfully, letting their boss and madam exit.

"Boys, do as I say. Do not be disrespectful by any means. Even if they push or spit on you, just grit and smile. These Chinese bastards love their 'face' like they love their family. Perhaps even more. If you disrespect them, and they want to kill you for it, I won't save you." - Felipe warned his men while fixing his tie.³To the Chinese, 'face' is like a mixture of honor, respect, and social status. Some value it more than they value their lives. I'm dead serious.

"Yes, boss." - The two men nodded.

Felipe lightly nodded and then narrowed his eyes as he stared at the brightly lit and festive hotel. A hidden den of snakes. No matter how much the Chinese try and glorify themselves as dragons, they are just a bunch of venomous snakes in his eyes.

Anyone that lives in LA knows that the most dangerous place there is Chinatown⁴FACT. And the triads, although not united against each other, are united against outsiders like him and are as strong as his entire gang. Worst of all, they are concentrated in a small region, unlike his branched-out organization.

Being out of his home turf and in the territory of an equally powerful gang, he knew that he had to be cautious, or he and his dear wife might lose their lives to these snakes and leave behind two orphans.

"Don't worry, honey. I will protect you." - His wife, Zoe, hooked her hand with his and assured him.

"I'm sure you will, dear." - Felipe smiled at his wife and kissed her hand while looking deep into her lovely eyes.

Felipe had no doubts about Zoe's words. He knows how strong she is. But he also knew it wasn't enough.

He was only willing to enter this place because he knew the triads would not harm them as long as he played by the rules. Chinatown is their turf, and at the same time, they don't want to expand outside this turf. You only needed to give them 'face' and money. That is all they cared about.

After taking a deep breath, he started walking toward the den. Tonight will certainly be an unpleasant one.