Chapter 3: First Mission
1304 Words
Chapter 3: First Mission
Marcus's eyelids lifted, and the first thing he saw was the smooth leather ceiling of a luxury car. The hum of the engine was quiet beneath him. He blinked twice, his mind still catching up to the transition from the void to the real world.
He slowly pushed himself upright on the back seat. Aiyana Holloway was seated beside him, her long hair falling past her shoulders, her expression a careful mask of composure. She watched him with sharp, evaluating eyes.
"You are awake," Aiyana said flatly. "You collapsed on the sidewalk. My grandfather knows who you are."
Marcus rubbed his temple and winced. The pain from the beating had dulled to a distant ache. "Your grandfather?"
"Old Mister Holloway of Crown City," the aide in the front passenger seat interjected. He turned around, his earlier wariness replaced by something more measured. "You have no idea how fortunate you are."
Aiyana raised a hand, and the aide immediately fell silent. She returned her gaze to Marcus. "The pendant I placed around your neck. It belonged to you. I was told to return it when you turned 30. Do you remember what happened?"
Marcus's hand moved instinctively to his chest. There was no pendant. But the warmth was still there, a faint, living pulse beneath his skin. "I remember you putting it on me. After that, nothing. Just darkness."
Aiyana studied his face for a long moment. "The pendant is gone. Do you know where it is?"
"No," Marcus said. The lie came easily.
Aiyana's expression did not change. "I did not come here for you. I came because my grandfather gave his word to your father many years ago. The Holloway family owes a debt. Returning the pendant settles it."
Marcus felt a twinge at the word "settles it." "Then why am I still in your car?"
"You were unconscious in the middle of the street. I am not heartless enough to leave a man to die on the pavement. We are heading to Platinum City Central Hospital."
Marcus straightened his back. The worst of the injuries had faded to a dull soreness. "I do not need a hospital. I am fine."
The aide let out a short, disbelieving sound. "You were beaten senseless. You are the opposite of fine."
Marcus ignored the aide and looked directly at Aiyana. "I appreciate the ride. But I will not waste any more of your time. You can drop me off at the next corner."
Aiyana tilted her head slightly. "You are refusing medical attention after what happened to you?"
"I heal fast," Marcus said.
A beat of silence passed between them. Aiyana's gaze flickered to his bruised face, and for a moment, something unreadable crossed her eyes. It was not pity. It was closer to a question she chose not to ask.
"Who did that to you?" she asked.
"People who thought I was worthless," Marcus said.
"And are you?" Aiyana asked. Her tone was genuinely neutral.
Marcus met her stare. "I used to think so. I do not anymore."
Aiyana held his gaze for a long moment. Then she turned to face forward. "Pull over at the next corner."
The aide blinked. "Miss?"
"You heard me," Aiyana said coolly.
The driver complied, and the Maybach glided to a smooth stop beside a quiet intersection. The street was lined with modest shops, their signs catching the orange glow of the setting sun. Marcus recognized the area. It was not far from the Kane family house, but far enough.
Aiyana gestured toward the door. "You are free to go."
Marcus reached for the handle, then paused. "Can I ask your name?"
"Aiyana Holloway. But you will not need it. Our business is finished."
Marcus opened the door and stepped out. The cool evening air hit his face. He turned back and looked at her one last time. "You said your family owes a debt. I do not know the details, but if your grandfather believed in my father enough to send you here, then maybe our business is not as finished as you think."
Aiyana's expression remained unreadable. "Goodbye, Marcus Kane."
She pulled the door shut, and the Maybach pulled away smoothly, merging back into the Platinum City traffic. Marcus stood on the curb, watching the taillights disappear around a corner.
He stood there in silence as the streetlights began to flicker on. The evening crowd moved past him, pedestrians heading home from work, shopkeepers pulling down their shutters. No one gave him a second glance.
[Host has regained consciousness. Healing cycle at 62 percent. Remaining injuries are superficial. You will be fully functional within 6 hours.]
Marcus did not startle this time. The voice in his head was becoming familiar. "You were quiet in the car."
[Unnecessary commentary in front of the Holloway heiress would have been a tactical error. She is observant. You were wise to conceal the pendant's activation.]
Marcus looked down at his clothes. His shirt was torn at the collar, his pants were scuffed with dirt from the beating, and dried blood still flecked the corner of his mouth. He looked exactly like what he was. A man who had been beaten and thrown out.
"I need a place to stay," Marcus said.
[Accommodations can wait. You have a more pressing concern.]
"What concern?"
[Your appearance. Right now you look like a brawl victim, not a future CEO. Before you do anything else, you need to look the part. People in business judge everything by what they see first.]
Marcus glanced at his reflection in a darkened shop window. The face staring back at him was bruised, haggard, and dressed in ruined clothing. "What do you suggest?"
[New sub-mission issued. Details incoming.]
[Sub-Mission: Image Refinement
Objective: Improve host appearance to a score of 80 percent or higher within 3 hours.
Guidelines: Purchase appropriate attire, footwear, accessories, and grooming services. Spending limit of 1,000,000 Cedis. You are expected to look like a CEO by the end of the timer.
Reward: One selection from a 3-box mystery reward pool.
Penalty: None. But walking around looking like a disaster is its own punishment.
Timer begins now.]
Marcus blinked. "One million cedis to shop?"
[The funds are accessible through your Platinum City Bank account. I unlocked it while you were unconscious. Use what you need. The limit exists to prevent reckless spending, not to restrict quality.]
Marcus looked down at his torn shirt and scuffed shoes. He had never spent more than a few hundred cedis on himself in 3 years. Every purchase had always been for Imani.
"Where do I even go?" he asked.
[Platinum City has a commercial district 12 blocks west. High-end retailers, tailors, barbers. I am uploading a route now. Move quickly. The timer is counting down.]
Marcus felt a strange sensation in his mind, like a faint directional pull. He started walking west, his pace steady despite the lingering soreness in his ribs.
"You mentioned rewards," Marcus said as he walked. "A mystery box?"
[Three boxes. You pick one. I cannot tell you what is inside. That is the mystery part.]
"And you find this amusing?"
[Immensely. But I am also serious. Your appearance is your first weapon. You cannot walk into a business meeting looking like a stray dog. Perception is leverage, host. Learn that early.]
Soon he reached his destination, North Point Mall. The biggest and luxurious mall in a city of over 5 million.
Don't look at the number, Platinum City's name came from the buying power of the masses. The city only lacked a few key infrastructure it'll be a first tier city.
High-end stores lined the streets, their windows displaying suits, shoes, watches, and everything a man of means was supposed to wear.
'Not for long,' he thought.
End of Chapter 3
- Writer
