The stairs were twelve meters away and William's broken ribs were screaming.
He ran anyway.
[COMBAT STATUS: Critical]
[INJURIES: Rib fractures (2-3), facial contusions, spinal bruising]
[PURSUIT: 4 seconds behind (fire extinguisher disorientation fading)]
[OBJECTIVE: Level 3 weapon cache]
Each stride sent lightning bolts of agony through his left side, the cracked ribs grinding against each other with every impact of foot on concrete. The Predator's Calm suppressed the panic but couldn't touch the physical damage—his body was failing, and the only thing keeping him upright was the certain knowledge that stopping meant dying.
Behind him, coughing. Then footsteps. Then the sound of someone recovering faster than they should.
"Combat Acceleration. Pain Suppression. He's built to take damage and keep fighting."
[WARNING: Pursuit resuming]
[ESTIMATED INTERCEPT: 6 seconds]
William hit the ramp to Level 3 and his vision tunneled. The chronic symptoms from Coercion layered on top of the combat damage—headache pounding behind his eyes, left eye's degraded vision making the shadows harder to parse, the general weakness of a body that had been under system punishment for weeks. He was operating on fumes and desperation.
The maintenance alcove was ahead. Fifteen meters. Ten. Five.
His hand closed around the duffel bag he'd stashed there two days ago, and for one beautiful moment, the math changed.
[WEAPON CACHE: Accessed]
[CONTENTS: Sawed-off shotgun (12-gauge), 3x flash-bang grenades, combat knife, steel cable]
[TACTICAL ASSESSMENT: Environmental advantage achieved]
The shotgun was a brutal thing—sawed-off barrel, pistol grip, loaded with double-ought buckshot that would tear through flesh at close range. Lucia Fontana's Amalfi contacts had sourced it through channels that didn't ask questions, and Jansen had smuggled it into Belgium with the same quiet efficiency he brought to everything. William had never fired a shotgun before. The absorbed Firearms Proficiency (Silver) would have to be enough.
He grabbed two flash-bangs, stuffed them in his jacket pockets, and turned to face the ramp.
The User appeared three seconds later.
The Antwerp User came around the corner with the speed of someone who had been trained to clear hostile spaces without hesitation. His face was red from the fire extinguisher's chemical irritation, eyes streaming, but his body moved with the same lethal economy William had witnessed throughout the fight.
William pulled the first flash-bang's pin and threw.
[FLASH-BANG: Detonated]
[EFFECT: 170 decibels, 7 million candela]
[TARGET: Phase 4 User with enhanced perception (PRC 18)]
[NOTE: Enhanced perception increases flash-bang effectiveness. Sensory overload will be severe.]
The flash was blinding even through William's closed eyelids—a sun going nova in the concrete space, burning afterimages through his lids. The bang was a physical force, a pressure wave that made his damaged ribs scream in protest. But he'd been expecting it. He'd been ready.
The User hadn't.
Enhanced perception meant the User saw more, heard more, processed more. Against a flash-bang, that advantage became a catastrophic vulnerability. The seven million candela hit receptors designed to detect threats at maximum sensitivity. The 170 decibels overwhelmed auditory processing tuned for detecting whispered footsteps. The User's own capabilities betrayed him.
[TARGET STATUS: Disoriented (severe)]
[WINDOW: 3-5 seconds]
[ACTION: EXECUTE]
William opened his eyes—spots dancing, vision compromised, but functional—and raised the shotgun. The User was staggering, hands pressed to his face, body exposed.
Cold Read had identified the vulnerability during the earlier exchange: right flank opens during combination attacks. But that wasn't the only weakness. The User's body armor covered his chest and back. Standard configuration. Professional choice for protecting vital organs.
The right flank was unarmored.
William fired.
[IMPACT: Right flank, unarmored]
[DAMAGE: Catastrophic (double-ought buckshot at 3 meters)]
[TARGET STATUS: Critical]
The shotgun's kick nearly tore it from William's grip—Silver Firearms Proficiency included handguns, not shotguns, and the recoil was savage. But the round hit. The User's side exploded in red, the buckshot tearing through muscle and organ tissue, and the man who had been winning this fight two minutes ago dropped to one knee.
William racked another shell and fired again.
[IMPACT: Center mass (armor present)]
[DAMAGE: Moderate (kinetic transfer through vest)]
[TARGET STATUS: Critical (multiple wounds)]
The second round hit the body armor but the kinetic energy transferred through, cracking ribs, driving the User backward. He fell onto his back, blood pooling beneath him, one hand reaching toward his jacket—toward something.
[WARNING: Target attempting ability activation]
[SYSTEM INTERFERENCE: Spike detected]
[ASSESSMENT: Unknown ability charging]
William didn't give him the chance.
He crossed the three meters between them in two strides, placed the shotgun barrel against the User's chest, and pulled the trigger.
[IMPACT: Point-blank, center mass]
[DAMAGE: Fatal]
[TARGET STATUS: Terminated]
The system interference died. The ping that had been pulsing in William's awareness since Copenhagen—the constant reminder of another User's presence—went silent. The Antwerp User stared at the parking structure's ceiling with eyes that didn't see anything anymore.
[RIVAL USER ELIMINATED]
[DESIGNATION: Unknown (no identification recovered)]
[PHASE: 4]
[TIER EQUIVALENT: 5]
[SP REWARD: 1,800 (base)]
[MULTIPLIERS: Creativity (+15%), Hitman-specific (+20%), Rival User bonus (+50%)]
[TOTAL SP GAIN: 2,430]
[CURRENT SP: 3,658]
[SYSTEM CANNIBALIZATION: Activating...]
The surge hit William like a drug injection—power flooding through his muscles, his reflexes, his senses. Everything sharpened. Everything accelerated. The pain from his broken ribs faded to a distant throb. The chronic symptoms from Coercion vanished entirely. For twenty-four hours, he was operating at a level he'd never experienced before.
[CANNIBALIZATION BONUS: +10 all stats (24-hour duration)]
[PROCESSING SPEED: +50%]
[COOLDOWN REDUCTION: 25%]
[NOTE: System cannibalization occurs when User eliminates rival User. Temporary enhancement derived from rival's absorbed power.]
[SKILL ABSORPTION: Available]
[TARGET: Antwerp User]
[ABSORBED SKILLS DETECTED:]
[- CQC Mastery (Gold)]
[- Explosives Handling (Silver)]
[- Tactical Driving (Silver)]
[- Portuguese Language (Gold)]
[- Counter-Surveillance (Silver)]
[- Threat Assessment (Gold)]
[SELECTION: Choose 1 skill for absorption (Gold tier = 24-hour cooldown)]
[NOTE: Remaining skills will be lost upon body disposal]
William looked at the list. CQC Mastery. The skill that had almost killed him. The skill that had let this User dominate close-quarters combat with the confidence of someone who had never lost a fight.
He selected it.
[ABSORBING: CQC Mastery (Gold)]
[INTEGRATION: Initiating...]
The knowledge flooded in like memory—but not his memory. Krav Maga techniques drilled into muscle until they were reflex. Systema's fluid adaptation to any attack angle. Dirty boxing combinations designed to end fights in seconds. Grappling transitions that turned an opponent's strength against them. Twenty years of training compressed into forty-five seconds of integration.
[CQC MASTERY (Gold): Integrated]
[COMBAT CAPABILITIES: Significantly enhanced]
[LTH EFFECTIVE BONUS: +8 in close quarters]
[ABSORPTION COOLDOWN: 24 hours]
[EMOTIONAL BLEED: Initiating...]
The Bleed hit without warning.
Rage. Disbelief. Fear. The dead User's final emotions crashed through William's consciousness like a wave breaking against rock. He felt the man's shock at being outmaneuvered, his fury at dying in his own territory, his terror in the final seconds when the shotgun pressed against his chest.
William dropped to his knees beside the body, gasping, fighting to separate his emotions from the dead man's.
[EMOTIONAL BLEED: Duration 45 minutes (Gold tier absorption)]
[NOTE: Bleed intensity correlates with skill tier. User is experiencing target's death emotions.]
The rage wasn't his. The fear wasn't his. But for forty-five minutes, they lived in his head anyway—the dying thoughts of someone whose name he would never know.
When the Bleed finally faded, William was still kneeling beside the body. The parking structure was quiet except for a car alarm three streets over. The User's face was young—mid-twenties, maybe younger. Shaved head, strong jaw, the kind of face that might have been handsome if it wasn't slack in death.
Someone's son. Someone's brother. Someone who had made choices that led to a parking garage in Antwerp.
The system didn't log that observation.
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