The woman screamed and jumped out of bed. Atlas ignored her, his full attention on Baek Yisoo. As the woman ran toward the door, Atlas stepped aside and let her pass.
Baek Yisoo stood up. Despite being drunk, the look in his eyes sharpened. “Who sent you? The Black Dragon? Or the Hua Mountain Sect?”
“Neither,” said Atlas.
A blue light began to appear around Baek Yisoo. Inner Energy! Atlas remembered what his mission description had mentioned. These men were not normal.
“I'll kill you, you wretched insect!” Baek Yisoo shouted, raising his hands.
Atlas didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger.
The hammer drew back—slowly but steadily, tensed like a spring. The cylinder rotated, and the bullet aligned with the barrel. The trigger went all the way back. The hammer snapped forward, the firing pin struck the base of the bullet. The primer exploded, the gunpowder ignited—a momentary blinding light, then what emerged from the barrel was death itself.
BANG!
The sound echoed through the room. Atlas watched the gun fly from his hand due to the recoil. Everything moved so slowly for him; he watched as the bullet tore a two-finger-wide hole in Baek Yisoo's chest.
The impact of the bullet threw him back.
The blue light went out in an instant.
Baek Yisoo collapsed to the ground, his eyes wide with shock. “Wh... what kind of weapon is this?”
Atlas watched silently. Blood spurted from Baek Yisoo's chest, but he was still alive.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Who... who are you?” asked Baek Yisoo, his voice growing weaker.
Atlas picked up the gun from the floor with a zombie-like, blank stare.
Baek Yisoo's eyes slowly closed, and he took his last breath. Atlas froze as he picked up the gun. He had actually shot someone. He had just ended a human life. He stared at Baek Yisoo's body lying on the floor. Blood spread across the wooden floor of the room.
[Return to the starting point.]
A hologram opened in front of Atlas. He had indeed completed his mission. His hands were shaking, his heart was racing. He put the gun back in his inventory and quickly left the room. He ran down the corridor and down the stairs.
Chaos had already erupted on the lower floor. The woman's scream had put the entire house on alert. Atlas quickly slipped outside, blending into the crowd. The streets were dark, but this darkness was now his greatest ally.
He sped through the streets, crossed bridges. He had killed a person. Was this real, or was it a dream? The uncertainty gnawed at his mind. But the cold sweat and his racing heart told him everything was extremely real.
“Return to the starting point,” he repeated. He opened the map and began moving toward where he had first arrived. His fear and bewilderment slowly gave way to a strange sense of relief.
Atlas's lungs burned as he ran. As he slipped through the crowded streets, turning every corner, the sound of his footsteps echoed in his ears. With every breath, his chest tightened, the cold air stinging his throat. Still, he didn't stop.
“Almost there,” he thought. “I have to reach the city gates.”
The image of Baek Yisoo's body lying on the ground reappeared in his mind. The flowing blood, the fading eyes... He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts. Now was not the time to give in to his emotions. First, he had to get out of here.
When he reached the large square, there was no trace of the crowd he had seen in the afternoon. There was no one except a few drunks, a few guards, and beggars dozing in the corners. Atlas quickened his pace, lowered his head, and headed for the gate.
When the city's eastern gate came into view, a slight look of relief appeared on Atlas's face. The gates were still open, but it was clear they were about to be closed. Two guards were preparing to push the heavy wooden doors shut.
“Wait!” Atlas shouted, running with all his strength. “Please, I need to get out!”
One of the guards raised his head and frowned. “It's too late now. Close—”
“Just me! I'll be gone in a second!” Atlas pleaded, approaching breathlessly.
The guard looked at his colleague and grumbled. “All right, go ahead. You're the last passenger tonight.”
Atlas opened his mouth to thank the guards, but then his eye caught the counter right next to the door. Standing there was the vendor who had helped him that afternoon. He was gathering his goods; clearly, he was also wrapping up for the day.
When the vendor looked up, he noticed Atlas. His face showed recognition, then surprise. He raised his hand to greet Atlas.
“Hey, young man! Did you get your business done—”
Atlas ignored him. He immediately turned his gaze forward and quickened his pace. By the time he reached the door, the guards had already begun to close it. Atlas threw himself through the narrow opening, almost getting caught in the door.
“Damn it, what's the rush?” grumbled one of the guards. Atlas didn't answer, just kept running into the darkness.
When he was finally clear of the city walls, the night air filled his lungs. It was cleaner, lighter air. After running a few hundred meters, he hid behind a tree and looked back. The city gates were now closed, the torches on the walls looking like tiny fireflies from a distance.

