Chapter Thirteen: A Fair and Just Deal

Ethan was frustrated.

He had initially thought that after completing a few straightforward missions, he'd be able to unlock the new achievement tied to his mysterious system. However, the conditions were far stricter than expected.

Of the six gangsters he'd just encountered, only one counted as a "qualified villain."

What about the others? Were they secretly saints hiding behind their menacing faces?

As the elevator dinged softly, signaling it had reached the first floor, the doors slid open.

Mond, the trembling Russian in the corner, was sweating bullets. Though every instinct told him to run, the cold, watchful eyes of Ethan pinned him in place. He knew better than to make any sudden moves.

Under Mond's desperate gaze, Ethan reached out and pressed the button for the top floor.

"Going up," Ethan murmured, the corners of his lips quirking up in amusement.

Mond swallowed hard. His heart was pounding so fast it felt like it might burst from his chest. He was locked in this metal box with a monster—a man who could be riddled with bullets one moment and stand back up the next, entirely unscathed.

Unable to endure the silence any longer, Mond broke first. "L-listen, brother, we don't know each other, right? I work for the Bratva, the Russian syndicate. If you come after me, our people—Vladimir especially—won't let you walk away unscathed."

Though Mond's words were meant to carry a warning, his tone betrayed his fear.

Ethan chuckled. "Relax. I'm not interested in starting a gang war. I just need you to answer a few questions for me."

Mond blinked, confused. Questions?

"What kind of questions?" he ventured cautiously.

Ethan gestured lazily toward the five bodies sprawled on the elevator floor.

"Which one of them is the worst?"

Mond stared blankly at Ethan. "The worst?"

"Yeah," Ethan said with a nod. "Who's the most evil out of this bunch? You know—most criminally inclined, worst moral compass, the works."

Mond's confusion deepened. Of all the things this man could've asked, this question made no sense.

"Uh… they're all about the same," Mond offered hesitantly.

"Impossible," Ethan shot back, his tone sharp. "If they were all equally bad, my progress bar wouldn't have moved by just one."

Mond had no idea what Ethan was talking about, but the coldness in the man's voice told him this wasn't the time for questions.

Ethan leaned forward slightly, his gaze narrowing. "You've got until we reach the top floor to pick the worst one and give me a detailed rundown of their sins. If you don't…" He let the implication hang in the air, his hand tightening on his pistol for effect.

Mond's throat went dry. He quickly pointed at one of the corpses. "H-him! It has to be him!"

"That one?" Ethan's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Why?"

"He… he's one of Vladimir's top lieutenants," Mond stammered. "He's been with the Bratva for years. He's handled everything—drug trafficking, weapons smuggling, even a few high-profile assassinations. Vladimir trusted him with tonight's deal, which says a lot about how ruthless he was."

"Deal?" Ethan's brows arched. "What deal?"

Mond's mouth snapped shut. He realized too late that he'd said more than he should have.

Ethan's fingers drifted to the trigger of his gun. The tension in the elevator grew unbearable.

"I'll show you," Mond blurted out, desperation lacing his voice. He reached for the silver briefcase he'd been clutching the entire time. With shaky hands, he popped it open, revealing several neatly packed bags of transparent crystals.

Ethan's eyes narrowed.

So this was what they'd been working on—a drug deal.

Illegal activity, organized crime...

An idea struck him.

"Hand it over," Ethan said, gesturing to the briefcase. His tone left no room for negotiation.

Mond hesitated, torn between his loyalty to the Bratva and his survival instincts. Ultimately, his survival won out. Gritting his teeth, he handed the case to Ethan.

"You're not walking away empty-handed," Ethan said. He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out two crumpled dollar bills and a five-cent coin. After a moment of deliberation, he tucked the bills back into his pocket and tossed the coin toward Mond.

"Here. Payment."

Mond stared at the coin in disbelief, his face twitching with a mix of humiliation and incredulity. "This… this isn't necessary," he said through gritted teeth.

Ethan's eyes grew colder. "Are you refusing my money? You think I'm the kind of guy who likes to take things for free?"

For a split second, Mond considered picking up one of the fallen guns and taking his chances. But the memory of Ethan rising from the dead, unscathed, stopped him.

With a forced smile, Mond bent down and picked up the coin. "No, of course not. Thank you. This is… fair."

"Glad you see it that way," Ethan replied, his expression lightening. "This is a fair and just transaction. No shady business."

Mond's hands trembled as he pocketed the coin. Inwardly, he vowed to avoid elevators for the rest of his life.

As the elevator neared the top floor, Mond's only prayer was that this nightmare would end soon.