Badge of the Death Game

Whoosh! c***k! The iron whip lashed heavily across his back. The white shirt on his body had already been soaked red by blood seeping from the wounds beneath. “You damn little bastard. Your whole family is nothing but broke trash!” “Listen up, Carter. Playing dead won’t save you. You’re finished. Three whole months, and you still haven’t hit your numbers!” “Morhaven’s truck is coming tomorrow. Enjoy waiting for death!” Inside the cramped room, the man in black cursed as he turned and left. Before leaving, he spat viciously at the young man collapsed on the floor. With a loud clang, the iron-barred door slammed shut. Only then did Xander Carter, who had been curled up on the ground, slowly open his eyes. “Where… am I?” The pain ripping through his body was so intense that it could barely suppress the dizziness in his head. Nausea surged up violently, and he lay on the floor dry-heaving for a long while before he finally managed to come back to his senses. The room around him was narrow, filthy, and miserable, almost like a pigpen. His body was covered in wounds. Fragments of unfamiliar memories kept flooding into his mind. All of it told him one thing. He was no longer in his original world. And worse, after briefly going through the original owner’s memories, Xander discovered that he was now in Myerdale, Shadorn, in a parallel world. A notorious region packed with scam compounds. And the identity of this body? A scammer. As for how the original owner had ended up here, it seemed he had committed some kind of offense back home and had been forced to flee overseas. As for what exactly he had done, the memories were too blurry to provide a clear answer. In short, Xander’s luck was terrible. Three full months of zero performance. The people above him had clearly reached the limit of their patience. He did not know what Morhaven’s truck meant, but he was certain of one thing. It could not possibly mean anything good. “Damn it…” Xander leaned back against the wall, his expression extremely grim. In his previous life, he had only just graduated from the police academy and successfully joined Marshfield Police Station, becoming a proud neighborhood patrol officer. He had thought a wonderful career of chasing chickens, kicking stray dogs, and handling petty neighborhood disputes was waiting for him. Who would have thought he would run into something like this? “Shadorn… No. I have to escape. But how?” Just as Xander was sinking into despair, an electronic notification suddenly rang out inside his mind. [Career Growth Game has finished loading!] [Detecting host identity… Identity confirmed. Beginner Career Dungeon has been activated. Host, please prepare for your mission.] As the voice sounded, a virtual panel appeared in Xander’s field of vision. [Name: Xander Carter] [Occupations: Police Officer, Scammer] [Career Skills: Detail Observation LV3, Police Grappling LV3, Military Combat Boxing LV3, Firearm Handling LV2, Shooting Proficiency LV3, Vehicle Operation LV2, Scam Script Delivery LV1] “This is…” Xander’s eyes widened. After confirming that he had not mentally collapsed and started hallucinating, he finally became certain of it. He had a cheat. He could survive. Thinking of this, Xander quickly glanced toward the iron-barred door. After confirming that no one was standing outside, he cautiously asked, “System, what exactly can you do? And what is a dungeon? What kind of preparations am I supposed to make?” A long while passed. There was no response. But Xander did not feel discouraged. Although he still knew almost nothing, in his current situation, even the smallest possibility meant hope. Hope that he could stay alive. He found a corner that could not be seen through the bars of the door, sat down, closed his eyes, and whispered, “Activate Career Dungeon.” [Dungeon activating…] [Dungeon activated successfully. Identity locked.] [Dungeon mission confirmed.] The next second, time froze. When Xander opened his eyes again, he was already in a completely unfamiliar place. 2009. United States. Westland State. Harbor City Police Department. SWAT Unit. “…Team C, load up! Team D, load up!” More than twenty SWAT officers wearing tactical vests and ballistic helmets, carrying rifles and sidearms, swiftly jumped into armored police vehicles. “Hurry up, Carter! Don’t just stand there!” From the passenger seat of a vehicle marked with the word POLICE, someone waved hard at Xander, who was still standing not far away. “Coming!” Xander had only just opened his eyes and had not yet figured out what was going on, but he stumbled into the vehicle anyway. Fortunately, his English had always been good. Otherwise, if he could not even understand what these people were saying, things would have been a disaster. As the vehicle drove out of the police station, Xander finally had a moment to observe his surroundings and the gear he was wearing. He was inside a standard armored police transport. Including the driver, the front passenger, and himself, there were six SWAT officers in total. Everyone was wearing a balaclava, so their faces could not be seen clearly. However, judging from their builds and the skin visible around their eyes, Xander could still roughly distinguish their general features. Then he checked the firearm in his hands. A short-barreled AR-15 rifle. The body of the g*n had some worn paint, so it had clearly seen plenty of use. But the upgraded tactical rails were fitted with a full set of attachments: vertical grip, suppressor, tactical flashlight, and holographic sight. In the thigh holster was a matte-black Glock 17 pistol. Xander pulled it out and checked it. A round was already chambered. All he needed to do was pull through the trigger safety, and the g*n would fire. His tactical vest carried three rifle magazines, four pistol magazines, one fragmentation grenade, one flashbang, and one stun grenade. On the Velcro patch at his shoulder was the mark D-4. Sitting beside him was D-3. Across from him were D-5 and D-6. In the front passenger seat, the man who had called him over earlier, D-1, spoke with a slight Redrock State accent. “You should all have noticed by now that this isn’t a standard operation. It’s a private assignment handed down from above, and it came in extremely rushed. We don’t have much intel. All we know is this: aside from the hostage, no survivors. Also, there are quite a few civilians in the target area, so during the operation, control your fire. Do not shoot recklessly.” “Copy that. It’s not our first time anyway, General. We know the drill.” D-3 chuckled. From his tone, he seemed to be the more cheerful type. D-5, sitting directly across from Xander, supported his waist and groaned. “Ugh… that chick last night was something else. I’m still tired. General, I think I need extra overtime pay. This job better come with a fat bonus.” D-6, who sat beside him, asked with concern, “Are you okay, Brian?” “Shut your mouth, rookie,” D-5 snorted with disdain. If there was no personal grudge between them, then Xander could roughly conclude that this man named Brian was arrogant and full of himself. “Ha…” D-6 laughed awkwardly, then looked toward Xander, who had been silent the entire time. “You okay, Carter? You haven’t said a word since earlier.” “I’m fine,” Xander said, shaking his head slightly. He had no intention of saying too much. This dungeon felt almost exactly like a real world. It had even arranged an identity and background story for him, which was far beyond what he had expected. What surprised him even more was that he had not received any memories from this body. Nothing at all. A complete blank. It seemed the system had no intention of letting him directly inherit the body’s skills and knowledge. That was reasonable, but at the start of a mission, it was still a considerable problem. “Ha, rookie, stop messing with him,” D-5 said with a laugh. “He was out partying last night too, same as me. And this guy? He really stole the show.” D-1, sitting in the front passenger seat, turned back and glanced at Xander. “Carter, are you sure you’re good? If you’re not feeling well, I can have you sent back now. This mission is dangerous. I don’t want one of my men dying because of some minor physical problem.” “I’m fine. Don’t worry,” Xander said with a smile. “Last night’s battle was nothing. Brian and I are not on the same level.” He had almost called D-1 by the nickname that sounded like “General,” but just as the word reached his lips, he somehow held it back. Scam Script Delivery LV1. When you needed to pretend you were familiar with someone but did not know their exact information, it was best not to casually call them by a nickname. Because you could not be sure whether that nickname was something your current identity was supposed to use. Hmm. A strange skill had just taken effect. While the men were talking, the sound of police sirens suddenly came from ahead. By now, they had already reached the outskirts of the city. In the distance, more than a dozen police cars surrounded an old hotel building. A large number of officers stood with guns aimed at the entrance, waiting in full battle formation.