(A/N: Art is an explosion. Someone pretty iconic said that in the past.

What is art?

Art: an expression of human creativity.

What is human creativity?

Human creativity: the manifestation of ideas, thoughts, feelings, and imagination.

What is an explosion?

Art.

That's what I think. It's what I thought—how I feel.

So explosions are art.

Wrong.

It can be art, but it's incomplete.

Through the expression of human creativity, art takes form.

I must express the thoughts in my head to make art.

"Art is an explosion."

I agree.

To express this statement, I must manifest it.

I need to blow shit up, truthfully.)

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After attending to a few more guests, Charon, the concierge, heard the Manager call for him.

—Meet me in the lounge.

—Of course, sir.

Charon delegated a temporary substitute for his post before heading to the lounge. He had an idea why the Manager called for his presence.

Soon, he arrived on the hotel rooftops.

The rooftop of the Continental Hotel was sleek and modern, with panoramic views of the city skyline.

It featured elegant seating areas, a well-stocked bar, and tasteful decor. To describe it in one word: Sanctuary, as it should be.

The antique lamp posts were on early to accommodate the dark clouds overhead. Basking in the ambient light, Charon saw the Manager—his friend, Winston.

"How are the preparations?" Winston inquired.

Charon illustrated the current situation.

"As requested by Mr. Valis, the power in the building is set to fail at exactly midnight. We have also monitored the daily habits of 'The Wolf' and compiled the information for Mr. Valis to receive. Hotel security will delay their response.

"All that is left is for Mr. Valis to handle."

"That's good," Winston responded, falling into silence.

...

"Is something bothering you, sir?"

"...nothing escapes your eyes."

But Winston didn't explain further, leaving Charon in the dark. Still, he stayed to accompany Winston to help ease his worries.

Charon, of course, had an inkling as to what he was thinking.

Winston wasn't the only one to lose such a precious friend after all.

'Jonathan...'

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(A/N: Going back to first-person to practice it.)

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"Let's get this quest over with!"

I ran for the spiraling stairway at the other end of the unlit hallway. My senses, adapted to a dark environment, remained unhindered.

"Hup!"

I jumped over the handrail and felt gravity take hold. From the ninth floor, I descended faster than taking an elevator. Besides, the power was out. Elevators wouldn't work in the first place.

Ninth. Eighth. Seventh. Fifth. Second.

*Bam!*

I rolled forward to redirect the impact of my noisy entrance. Just as planned.

Gunshots immediately rang out from the dark hotel halls. Bullets whizzed over my back, a mere few centimeters away from hitting a vital organ or two. The muzzle flashes from the firearms revealed two armed men in the next room forward.

I continued to crouch as I threw both of my knives. They flew undetected in the dark.

"Urk!"

The throwing knives sank deep into their hearts. The result was quite impressive for someone who's never thrown a knife.

Well, I have thrown other things.

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[Deadeye Skill |Rank: XVI|]

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But it was more impressive that I heard their hearts palpitate from nine floors high.

More remained, however. I can hear more of the henchmen come.

"Unknown hostile in the Northern Quadrant! Who's there?!"

Multiple cones of light approached with rapid footsteps. I hid behind a wall that separated us, planning another ambush after retrieving my knives.

However, the lights never fell upon the corpses of their comrades.

"Imagine camping."

Their flashlights illuminated my only possible exit point to the dining lounge. Most likely, their guns aimed there too.

They didn't engage, presumably awaiting more companions.

'How careful of them.'

Instead of going back up the stairs and finding another way in, I snatched a stun grenade from my belt and pulled the safety pin.

I bought it with the concierge's recommendation. Now felt like the best time to use it.

The internal mechanism activated as its timer began to tick.

I threw it across the other room as I willed my senses to weaken. I watched the cones of lights illuminate the flashbang, before scrambling for shelter.

"Take cover!"

Too late for that.

A bright explosion blanketed the other room for a split second.

My weakened eyes and ears immediately regained their sharpness, revealing the blinded, deafened men. They were screaming in pain.

"MY EYES!!!" One of them shouted.

"MY EAAAARS!!!" yelled another.

Charon was right. Flashbangs in dark places are a good combination.

Using that chance, I charged in without delay.

Even while disoriented, the armed men shot their bullets in my general direction, a futile attempt to deter my advance.

A normie would probably shit themselves and not even bother charging in. Professionals wouldn't shit themselves but still wouldn't run into the rain of lead.

What does that make me? A crazy person?

That sounds perfect.

Disorganized, it was easier to weave between their bullets. The ones I couldn't dodge were... well, they didn't exist. I dodged them all.

I reached the first man in record time. I'll call you Henchman #1.

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[Sever Swordsmanship Skill |Rank: XVIII|]

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Goodbye, Henchman #1

"Sever Swordsmanship: Split."

Under the dim chaos, The snapping of my wrist was barely visible, the sound of a blade leaving its sheathe hardly audible.

It made contact with his neck. Just as quickly, the blade came out the other side.

Henchman #1's head separated from his body. He didn't realize that he had been beheaded, his mouth still wide open to scream. Without lungs and a diaphragm, fortunately, Henchmen #1 couldn't add to the noisy screaming of his friends.

Before his head hit the ground, I was already in front of my next victim.

"Split."

I gave Henchman #2 a similarly gruesome death, a clean cut that severed their body into two halves from their right shoulder to their chest.

The person beside him didn't escape a similar fate.

"Rend."

An upward slash sent blood splattering to the fancy, unlit chandelier above. The blood dripped down like rain, hitting nothing but the bloody corpse below.

I was across the room, stabbing another disoriented gunner through the abdomen.

"MY EAAAA—Gah!" he screamed in pain—real pain. Flashbangs only really disoriented the enemy. They weren't meant to hurt, unlike my pointy weapon.

Changing my grip, I slashed upwards with little difficulty, ending Henchman #4's momentary pain.

I couldn't avoid the blood this time. It stuck to my hands and made gripping the sword harder. Henchman #4 worked against me, even in death.

"Ah, it got sticky real quick. That feels disgusting."

If I were in the dungeon, the blood would evaporate into mist, the body in a burst of white steam. In here, the blood coagulated like a clingy girlfriend, not like I would know what having one was like.

I didn't hunt humans there, but monsters. But they never did feel like "living things" to me. Was it because the dungeon made them through whatever magic bullshit, an incredibly different process from simple reproduction?

It was probably because they were just monsters. That must be it. I never saw them as human to begin with.

'Maybe I'll come by to destroy that dungeon some time. And enter heaven too—wherever it is that the gods reside.'

I gripped the sword tighter and continued my slaughter. I spotted a henchman rolling back and forth on the floor. He was the loudest out of everyone.

"MY EY—"

"Split."

One by one, I cut their words in half.

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"That was fun."

The bodies numbered around fifty.

"Damn. How do I clean this? Ah, wasn't it called a 'Dinner Reservation?' Everything underworld related is dinner this, dinner that..."

—Report. What's the status?

"What the hell?!"

From one of the severed heads, a little voice squeaked out.

—Report, Kowalski.

"Hoo... that scared me."

No, it wasn't a talking decapitated head. Henchman #14's security earpiece relayed a rowdy voice.

—Kowalski?

I decided to put on the earpiece.

—Kowalski here! Everything's cool, boss.

I replied, imitating Kowalski's screaming voice. My version was more coherent and less AAAHHHH!!!

—Ты не Ковальски. Кто ты?!

"Well, shit. I can't speak whatever that is."

Apart from speaking whatever language that was, the person on the other side started to speak English for a good portion.

—Ты мертвец! Мертв! Ты меня слышишь?! I'm a member of the High Table! You don't know what you're messing with! Excommunication is just the start... blah blah.

Ignoring the blathering blabberer, I thought about his words.

'A member of the High Table. My last target was one of them as well... he must be my target.'

Iosef "The Wolf" Tarasov.

Damn.

I remember this guy being a little pussy.

'If it's him... this makes things easier.'

I memorized Iosef's voice and pushed my hearing to cover the entire hotel.

There were a lot of sounds. I heard big and small sounds, but none that resembled the high-pitched voice of a pissed-off crime boss.

"So he left the hotel."

It's only been a few minutes, but he evacuated so quickly.

"Impressive. Very impressive."

I ran to the staircase and started ascending it, passing by the dead bodies on the floor.

While making my way up, I gradually heard more sounds by continuing to increase my range of hearing. This time, they came from outside the hotel.

Cars. Footsteps. Raindrops. Thunder. Music.

They were all so noisy.

I arrived on the hotel rooftops. The Continental wasn't the highest building in the area, but it was high enough to be a suitable sniping place.

An invisible barrier of mine blocked the falling rain. I remained dry despite having no shelter to come under.

I looked down at the streets and continued to strengthen my hearing. As expected, the city streets were full of energy despite it being the middle of the night.

Then I heard it. The voice from the earpiece overlapped with a voice on the busy streets of New York.

—Death will come quickly. Just lie down and die for both of our sakes, yes?

"Death will come quickly. Just lie down and die for both of our sakes, yes?"

'Found you.'

Despite Iosef's quick evacuation, he ultimately couldn't escape the traffic. Around 300 meters away was his stationary SUV, surrounded by others like it. It was Iosef and his guards.

It would've been better for him to walk, but cars make for excellent bullet cover. The rain would've made it uncomfortable too.

'Well, it's not like I use bullets. But!'

I set aside my sword and grabbed the weapon that I carried around like a shoulder bag:

A big, fat bazooka.

"You beauty..."

When I saw it in the hotel armory, I just knew we would have a blast together.

'Looks like I get to use you today! Lucky!'

Charon gave me instructions on how to use it. It was easy to learn because of my natural affinity for using things to kill things, and one nifty skill.

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Weapons Mastery |Rank: XVIII|

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I rested it on my shoulder and took my time to aim. Then I remembered that Charon talked about how bazookas have a limit to their range.

Theoretically, bazookas have a maximum range of hundreds of meters, but their effective range is only around 100 meters. A target 300 meters away can technically still be hit, just that it might take you tens of tries.

The damage would be lessened as well. Why? Just trust me. Trust Charon, my source. I talked to him. It's all cool.

"I've got you in my sights."

The rain did nothing to hinder my sharp eyes.

As I aimed, I muttered a phrase under my breath.

"Augere: Efficiens Minor!"

The bazooka trembled as its form changed. It became heavier and more robust as a magical luster enveloped it.

This should increase its effective range enough.

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Augere |Rank: XVIII|

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—Hey, Kowalski here.

—You shut your fucking trap. What do you want?!

"You shut your fucking trap. What do you want?!"

—I just have a little message is all. Tell the "Baba Yaga" that he's breathtaking when you meet him in hell. That guy just has to be there with all the things he's done!

—That fucking nobody—

"That fucking nobody—"

I pulled the trigger.

Less than a second passed.

*BOOM!*

The car disappeared within the center of the spectacular explosion. The impact caused the surrounding vehicles to explode before crashing against nearby buildings.

All the windows in the nearby area shattered in rapid succession. Even the Continental sustained damages, albeit minor.

"I made something beautiful today."

The bazooka in my hands crumbled into smoldering chunks of metal. It couldn't handle the enhanced firepower.

"I should've made it sturdier as well. Oh well."

With my target dead, I headed down to the hotel car park (By jumping from the building rooftop and running for a bit) and drove off the Continental.

"...this traffic sucks."

It's just that, I may have made the midnight traffic worse.

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[Leisure Quest: First of Two (1/2)]

Killing Strangers |Rank: FFFFF|

[Quest Completion Rank]: S

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"Well, it's done."

While stuck in traffic in his dream car, Elias Williams, aka "Mr. Valis," began reviewing his quest. Having given up on his romantic life, he pursued riches instead, and the best way was to complete contracts. The system generated the quest according to his request.

But you might be asking why.

Why is he here? Wasn't Elias—This Elias—on his way to get some bitches? Collect his waifus throughout the many anime universes?

<CHA> %^#&%

That's why. The effects of an incalculable CHA stat didn't mean Elias could swoon all the ladies with his dashing looks.

No. Elias was too dashing. "Bird Box" from Netflix kind of "dashing."

How he regretted ever wishing to be incredibly handsome. The pain! The suffering!

"The waifus!" he sorrowfully mentioned his most precious desire. It was out of his grasp in this universe and the last, and the last one before that.

Elias hoped the System Function, Status Limiter, could resolve this obstacle.

Rank: XX

XX!

That was the limit, the lowest the CHA stat would go! At such a ranking, simply showing his face to a person caused...

Elias refused to recall the tragic memories. However, he continued hoping a way to hide his face existed.

—I can always wear a mask. That way, my Charisma technically wouldn't work.

A misconception. True, other living beings couldn't see Elias's glorious face. But CHA doesn't affect appearance alone!

A charming person doesn't need a face to charm people. There's a reason why people find themselves attracted to the unknown, like, for example, streamers who hid their faces. Or cult leaders behind a mask. Or a random masked cashier at McDonald's.

A real life example from the past would be a man with a silly moustache.

Charisma is all-encompassing. How a person walks, talks, lives, dies, moves, and thinks—so many aspects are affected.

*BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP*

Annoyed by the traffic and untimely flashbacks, Elias pressed his head against the steering wheel.

It didn't take long for a pissed-off driver to start voicing their thoughts.

"GO TO HELL YOU NOISY BASTARD! IT'S FUCKING DARK OUT!!!"

From a lane on his side, Elias saw a balding man hold his hands up in a gesture of "Greetings, most lovely person. I wish you love a long and happy life."

Of course not. Not in this universe, anyway.

Elias, however, was happy to reciprocate.

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Master of Mana |Rank: XVIII|

Matchless Craftsmanship |Rank: XVIII|

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After creating another mana mask to cover his face, Elias opened his tinted window, replying with the hand sign for "Peace among worlds."

Perhaps in another universe like Rick and Morty, but definitely not this one.

However...

"..." The balding man sat frozen in his seat. His two hands retained their rude gesture but were noticeably flimsy.

Unbeknownst to Elias, or perhaps he knew, the man's wife and kid were with him. They were frozen too.

Slowly, Elias's window rolled up. The cars before him were moving again, and he went with the flow.

*BEEP BEEP*

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE UP FRONT!? MOVE!" It was another man's turn to start swearing.

The balding man and his family, however, remained unresponsive. A noticeable blush tainted each of their cheeks.

"As expected. I need to solve this problem!"

Elias didn't want to go through the effort of setting up what he calls "Charisma Concealment" spells. The mask he fashioned using mana contained numerous spells. But that isn't enough. Elias must also apply the spells to himself and the surrounding air to prevent people from falling into a vegetative state.

And if he wants to talk to people, he'll have to do some extra things...

He's Medusa, basically.

"Not just the women, but the men and the children too." he nervously said. "Why the kids too, god damn it. It's a universal law to never screw with the kids..."

However, when the CHA goes beyond the scope of an Omniverse...

"I am cursed!"

Elias decided to head straight for a nearby pub. It was all to complete a new personal mission.

Get shit-faced.

"That kid should've been at home this late at night anyway! That's one shitty parent!"