Win_Praise

I died. No idea how. No idea why.

All I know is that I woke up in a tailored black suit… with blood on my hands, a Glock in my grip, and a room full of bodies around me.

And every last one of them?

They thought I was John Wick.

Problem is — I’m not.
Not really. I can’t even aim right.

But the system doesn’t care.

> “Survive 24 Hours: Reward – Gun Kata (Lv.1)”
“Kill 3 Enemies Without Reloading: Reward – Reflex Upgrade (Tier 2)”
“Pet a Dog: +10 Charisma”



This world? It’s not a movie.
The blood’s real. The pain’s worse.
And the myth I’ve become?
It’s hunted.

I have 24 hours to survive my first day as the Baba Yaga.
If the bullets don’t get me, the legends will.
But if I make it long enough to level up…
Then maybe — just maybe — I’ll become the man they think I am.

Wick'd: Reincarnated into the Deadliest Action Movie Ever Made

LOCATION: UNKNOWN – SYSTEM DREAMSPACE

Time Remaining in Proxy War: 6 Days, 23 Hours, 58 Minutes

But that didn't stop the System from dragging me into a dream like it was scheduling a mandatory office meeting.

And then — color bled in like paint dropped in water. A circular space, infinite and tight at the same time. Six podiums. Six proxies. All glowing red.

And then there was me. Lucky number seven.

> 🔔 "Proxy Assembly Initiated."

"Welcome, Participants of the Proxy War."

"The last one standing will inherit Absolute Override Access."

I turned — slowly — scanning the freak parade the System had assembled. Each proxy pulsed with power. Each more unhinged than the last.

Real name unknown. Draped in blood-red silk, sipping wine like it was nitroglycerin.

> "My last Proxy thought they were clever. I fed them their own kneecaps."

Fully masked. Hacker skin suit. Dozens of drones floating around them, pulsing with neon.

> "I control the System. The rest of you just rent space."

They looked like a DJ that hacked their own soul.

Ex-cultist. Face half-burned. A walking sermon in napalm. Carried two flame-axes like holy relics.

> "You are the glitch. I am the correction."

Buddy, you're a barbecue accident with delusions.

Wore a three-piece suit made of what looked like... actual bones. No face. Just teeth.

Just mimed blowing me a kiss — then slit his own throat and laughed as it healed instantly.

Cool. So that's my sleep paralysis demon now.

Two bodies. One mind. Twins in perfect sync, switching places mid-sentence.

Left Gemini: "We share everything."

Right Gemini: "Including the kill."

Right: "—right down the middle."

She floated. Literally. Like gravity was a rumor. Moon-white skin, black halo over her head.

> "I already saw how you die. I cried. It was beautiful."

The glitch. The wildcard. The accidental reincarnate.

Commentary: "That'll be fun to watch."

Ash Nine stepped forward. "You're not ready."

"Great," I muttered. "Another catchphrase."

He ignited both axes and pointed them at me.

Before I could answer, a countdown began.

> 🕒 "NEXT PROXY ENCOUNTER IN: 12 HOURS."

Target: Random. Terrain: Dynamic. Survival: Optional.

Then the world shattered like broken glass.

LOCATION: BACK IN THE UNDERCITY — REALITY SYNC COMPLETE

I shot upright on a rusted mattress. Breathing hard.

Marcus was there, holding a cup of coffee and zero sympathy.

"You met them, didn't you?" he said.

"Yeah," I replied, rubbing my face. "We should've brought a nuke."

He sipped. "Some of them are nukes."

Outside, the city screamed its usual song — sirens, gunshots, and something that sounded suspiciously like a chainsaw tango.

And a brand-new gun called The Repeater.

"Alright," I said. "Let's go say hello to the competition."

Proxy Roll Call