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Chapter 24: Present, Ramen, and Cigars
🕑 Added 2025-08-16 12:58:27 +0000 UTCI clicked a picture of Gary’s cold corpse as proof.
“Job’s done.” I messaged.
Within a minute, I received a reply.
“Collect your payment on your next visit.”
At the same time, I also received a system notification.
Mission: Tab Closed (Completed)
Reward: $200, More missions from Reina
Hidden Objective: Find the secret Gary was hiding (Completed)
Hidden Reward: Fake ID
Damn. That was closer than I liked. If I’d stuck to my original plan, I would’ve killed him and walked out. No reason to search past his pockets… and that belt buckle would’ve kept its little secret. The system probably wouldn’t have even told me what I’d missed — maybe a smug “Hidden objective failed”.
Then I looked at what reward I got—a Fake ID.
I felt something in my pocket and I pulled it out. It was a blank ID without any photo or details.
Fake ID
Allows the creation of a single civilian-level identity. The user must set all details at creation, including the photo. Once confirmed, cannot be altered. Untraceable by conventional means. Cannot exceed civilian status.
I turned it over in my fingers, ideas already clicking into place. Two legal identities, anywhere in the world. Perfect for when I need to do something I don’t want tied to my student name.
Sure, I could slap some random stranger’s photo on it and keep my real face clean… but that’d be wasting it. If I ever got Chameleon-level shapeshifting? This thing would be gold.
I slid it back into my pocket. No rush. I’d save this little gem for when the stakes were high enough to justify burning it.
—
“I said you could collect your payment on your next visit,” Reina said, her voice cold but edged with disbelief. “Tomorrow would have sufficed.”
I leaned back comfortably in the chair and smiled. “Figured you’d appreciate hearing it straight from the source.”
Reina rolled her eyes, pulled two hundred-dollar bills from the drawer, and slid them across the table with a dismissive flick of her hand.
I pocketed the money without breaking eye contact.
“Is that all? Then leave,” she said flatly.
“I can,” I said, flashing a wide grin, “but first, I brought you a present.”
Reina’s face was immediately covered in frost.
“Kevin, are you under some kind of illusion about our relationship?” Her voice was so cold it could have frozen the air between us.
“Of course not. You are my boss, and I am your freelance subordinate,” I said playfully.
“Then explain what you mean by ‘present,’” she said, each word clipped, her tone suppressing her restrained fury. “If you don’t… You won’t be leaving this room alive.”
“By present, of course, I mean a literal present. What’s there to explain?” I said casually.
Before she could reply, I pulled out a pendrive and slid it across the table.
“Consider it my token of appreciation for being such a… good boss.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she picked it up. “Isabella.”
The woman with twin holsters stepped forward. I gave her a friendly wave; bitch ignored me.
Without a word, she plugged the pen drive into her laptop. Minutes later, she closed the lid. “It’s clean.”
She handed it to Reina, her face unreadable — either she hadn’t checked the contents or she was one hell of an actress.
Reina inserted the pen drive into her laptop. Her face stayed impassive at first, but the longer she read, the more serious her expression became.
I kept silent, watching every subtle shift in her face.
The room grew heavy — everyone sensed something was off. Isabella, the only one in my line of sight, was already shooting me death glares.
I smirked as I saw her reaction, but that only made her angrier. It was a fun pastime until Reina finished reading.
At last, Reina leaned back. Her face switched to a blank mask.
“Is something wrong, Madrina?” Isabella asked, worry creeping in as she threw me another glare.
Reina ignored Isabella’s worry.
She demanded with a serious tone, “What do you want for it?”
My face also turned serious at her question. She raised her eyebrow at the sudden change but didn’t react further.
“I’m sure you understand how valuable this information is to the La Corona Roja,” I said, wearing a subtle, knowing smirk.
“I do,” Reina replied without hesitation.
Isabella stiffened, eyeing Reina as if silently asking for permission to put a hole in my head — but was denied… for now.
“Then you also know how precious it is,” I said, tilting my head playfully. “Can you guess how much your competitors would pay for it?”
A cold blade touched my neck. One word from Reina, and I’d be headless — yet I kept my confident, condescending smirk.
“Valeria,” Reina said calmly. The blade lingered for a heartbeat… then withdrew.
I will not lie, I mentally exhaled in relief as the cold edge left my skin.
“Stop beating around the bush,” Reina said coldly. “Tell me what you want.”
“What do I want?” I echoed, sounding thoughtful.
“Of course, it’s,” I paused. Then, on the next breath, my face switched back to my casual face.
I continued with a cheeky smile, “...Nothing.”
Reina blinked, as if she couldn’t understand what I said. Isabella stared at me with a mix of wariness and disbelief.
“What do you mean?” Reina asked, her voice ice-cold.
“Oh, come on, Ms. Reina,” I clicked my tongue as if she had asked something dumb. “Did you already forget? I told you — it’s a present.”
“Do not joke around,” she snapped.
“But, I am not joking,” I said, looking hurt. “It really is a gift.”
Before she could respond, I stood up.
“Anyway, that’s all I came for,” I said lightly, turning toward the door. “Hope you enjoy your present.”
I quickly walked to the door. On the way, I saw Valeria ready to lop off my head with her machete.
My pace quickened. I slipped out and shut the door behind me.
Many might think I was an idiot for giving away such valuable information for free.
Sure, I could have bargained and squeezed a hefty deal out of her — but that would’ve only given me short-term gains.
By handing it over as a gift, I didn’t earn money… I earned her goodwill — and sometimes, that’s worth far more.
Now, in the future, she’d never forget that I was the one who quietly placed something so dangerous into her hands — something that, in the wrong hands, could have crippled her entire cartel.
After all… the things that cost nothing are often the most expensive.
Reina’s Office:
Reina stared quietly at the closed door, weighing whether Kevin was a threat or not.
Eventually, she looked to her right-hand woman. “Isabella — what do you think of him?”
Isabella was still silently processing Kevin’s behavior; she snapped out of it when Reina addressed her.
“Honestly… I’m at a loss. Sometimes he displays the seriousness of an adult, and at other times, he seems like a child treating life as a game. He feels… strange,” Isabella said with confusion.
Reina nodded, then shifted her gaze toward the hulking man by the minibar. “Ramon?”
“The kid’s interesting. He’s got guts,” Ramon said with a boisterous laugh.
Isabella rolled her eyes at his answer.
Reina turned to Valeria, the one who placed the machete on Kevin’s neck. “Valeria?”
“Nothing,” Valeria replied, already sitting on the couch and polishing her machete.
Reina took no offense. She knew Valeria wasn’t being rude — that was simply her way. The woman spoke rarely, and only when necessary.
Finally, she looked at the last person in the room. This time, her tone held a note of expectation. “Javier?”
Javier was silent for a long moment as he took a deep puff of his cigar. Finally, he said quietly,
“His seriousness reminded me of his father — and that alone unsettled me.”
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
“That easygoing attitude he shows might dull the edge at first glance… but I couldn’t shake the feeling it was just a mask hiding something sharper underneath.”
Another beat.
“What frightened me more wasn’t that resemblance — it was the possibility that under that mask, there’s someone calculated enough to smile while plotting your downfall — patient, ambitious, and willing to strike only when it serves him.”
A thoughtful silence settled over the room.
Next Day, Kobayashi’s Ramen Shop, Midday:
“One tonkotsu ramen,” the man said.
“And one miso ramen for me, please,” his female partner added.
“Sure thing. Anything else?” I asked, jotting down their order.
“No, that’s all. Thank you,” the man replied with a smile.
I nodded and was about to head back to the kitchen when he spoke up again.
“Are you new here? I haven’t seen you before.”
“Yep — just started part-time,” I replied.
Without pay, I added silently as I turned and disappeared into the kitchen.
Old man Kobayashi was inside, already working over the stove. I placed the order ticket beside the others.
He poured two bowls full of ramen, filling them to the brim.
“Take these out,” he said, already starting to cook the following order.
“Oi, oi, oi, old man, what are you doing? Will you even earn enough with how much you are pouring?” I muttered in disbelief.
“That’s none of your concern,” he said dismissively without even sparing me a glance.
“Aren’t restaurant owners supposed to be black-hearted and stingy, squeezing every bit of profit from their customers?” I pressed.
“Stop dawdling,” he said, voice edging toward irritation. “Take both bowls out — and if even a drop gets spilled, you know your punishment.”
“You didn’t give this much yesterday…” I grumbled under my breath as I carefully picked up a tray with a bowl in both hands.
Just as I turned, the old oni added, “Take both together.”
I stared at him. “Are you serious, old man?”
“It’s time to increase your training intensity,” he said flatly. “Now move.”
“What do you mean by increasing intensity? I only started training today,” I complained quietly, but picked up the second tray anyway.
I moved like I was carrying live explosives — inch by inch.
Relief washed over me as I crossed the kitchen door.
Checkpoint one: cleared.
A few customers looked at me with curious, mocking eyes. I ignored them.
Finally, I reached the table. Two men looked up at me with pure schadenfreude.
I set the first bowl down. Good. One left.
Just as I lowered the second, the closer man suddenly leaned forward and fake-sneezed. I jerked the tray back in panic, somehow keeping everything steady.
He straightened up at once. “Ah… false alarm,” he said with a fake apologetic smile.
I cursed his ancestors back eighteen generations — but managed to set the bowl down anyway.
I was just about to breathe a sigh of relief…
—when I spotted a single bead of soup sliding down the rim.
…And just like that, my world came crashing down.
With dejected steps, I trudged back into the kitchen.
Kobayashi glanced over — one look at my face told him everything.
“Finish up and get back here,” he said mercilessly. “We still have customers.”
Dragging my feet, I headed upstairs to the first-floor training room.
Reluctantly, I began my punishment:
100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a one-leg stand — ten minutes per leg.
While doing my push-ups, I continually cursed yesterday's me.
After leaving the bar last night, I was hungry, so I stopped by the ramen shop to eat.
After dinner, I planned to head back home and return to the city the next day.
But then the old oni offered me to sleep in his house. I thought, what a kind man.
I was just a naive fool.
The next morning, he woke me up at five and said, “It’s time to start my training.”
I never woke up at five, never. But he ruthlessly dumped a bucket full of cold water on me.
Then it was the start of the demonic training.
It started with 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10 km run.
He made me run 10 km in this fucking criminal neighborhood.
I somehow managed to complete it while panting like a diseased mutt.
I just hoped I wouldn’t go bald with this training regimen.
The training should have stopped at that point for the day.
But. But. BUT.
I never thought I would ever curse the increase in my Vitality and Endurance stats.
I was a noob who thought I had slightly better regeneration, but I didn’t dig deep.
But he was a master; just by looking at how much time it took for me to recover, he understood the extent of my abilities. Not to mention the stamina granted to me by my latest F3 Endurance stat.
Translation: excellent stamina + excellent recovery = extraordinary torture.
After that, we had another two hours of grueling training.
Then it was time to open the shop. I thought my nightmare was finally over, but it wasn't.
He made me help in the shop as a waiter as his fee, which, to be honest, I didn’t mind.
But what I minded was the punishment. The fucking punishment.
The oh so great master said that I have shitty balance and coordination. If someone tried to knock me over in a fight, I’d fold like wet paper.
So, he devised a trial by fire. I had to bring the bowls from the kitchen to the table without spilling even a drop; otherwise, the punishment would be my fate.
This was the third time I’d been sentenced.
Fuck.
The system showed me his tier was F3. Why didn’t it warn me that he was an S-grade sadist, too?
I eventually completed my sentence and wiped the sweat off with a nearby towel.
After resting for ten minutes, I felt good enough to move again, so I trudged downstairs to resume my glorious role as an unpaid waiter.
Kobayashi glanced at me and then turned back to cook as if I wasn’t worth wasting more time.
He simply pointed at another tray… with yet another bowl filled right to the brim.
I swallowed back the tears and returned to work.
…
By evening, I had only been punished once more. Progress, probably.
For now, the shop had quieted — I’d already served the few customers inside, and no new orders had come in yet.
That blissful silence was broken when my phone suddenly started ringing.
I pulled out the one in my right pocket — not that one. I still wasn’t used to carrying two phones.
Since I decided to come to this city for work, I asked one of Uncle Niko’s criminal acquaintances to obtain a SIM card for me on a fake ID. That fake ID wasn't as good as the one I got as a reward from the system, but it worked for now.
I had inserted the SIM card into a new phone, which I used for my criminal activities, keeping my two lives completely separate.
I pulled out the one in my left pant pocket, and it was this one that was ringing.
The name showed, Reina.
I quickly excused myself from the counter and went upstairs to talk without any disturbances.
“Hey, Ms. Reina. Did you call to tell me how much you loved my present?” I answered cheerfully.
There was a long pause on the other side. Maybe she was contemplating that it would be better to get me killed.
Finally, she spoke.
“I have a job for you. Are you interested?” she asked, completely ignoring my question.
“Obviously. That’s why I’m here. Hit me,” I said casually.
“It’s a simple job. Pick up a shipment of imported cigars from a location and deliver it to another location quietly,” Reina said, introducing the job.
Finally — a real crime. After fetching tabs and bullying ramen gods, a smuggling run actually sounded fun.
I briefly wondered if this would count toward my Delivery mission. If it did, that opened up another avenue for its completion.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I replied, “Absolutely. Delivering things is my specialty.”
She didn’t bother humoring that.
“Isabella will send you the pickup and drop-off locations. Be there by 11 p.m.”
“It’ll be done, Ms. Reina,” I said, patting my chest.
“I’ve had a van delivered near the ramen shop,” she added. “Keys are inside. It also contains a gun — in case of emergency — though I doubt you’ll need it. You are to deliver the van, the gun, and the shipment together. Am I clear?”
“Crystal, ma’am,” I replied promptly.
Click. She hung up without another word.
I headed outside and spotted the van parked nearby. The plate number matched the one she’d messaged.
It opened easily, and I went inside. The keys were resting on the dashboard. I opened the dashboard, and the gun was also inside there, already loaded, with an extra magazine.
I locked the weapon in the compartment, pocketed the keys, secured the van, and headed back into the shop.
Tonight... finally something other than ramen and death threats.
There was still time, so I went back to balancing ramen bowls.
I got so excited about my upcoming job that I spilled again… and earned another round of punishment.
After that, I calmed myself. I couldn’t afford to miss pickup just because I was standing on one leg again.
By 10:30 PM, Isabella had sent me the locations, and the system had already flashed a mission:
Mission: Cigar Smuggling
Description: Pick up Reina’s shipment of ultra-rare imported cigars and deliver it safely.
Reward: $1000, More missions from Reina
Failure Conditions: Shipment lost, damaged, or destroyed
Failure Consequences: No more missions from Reina
The pickup spot wasn’t far from the shop. I left at 10:35.
“Gotta go, old man. Duty calls,” I told Kobayashi on my way out. He just gave a nod.
I shrugged and left the shop.
After driving for twenty minutes, I arrived near my destination. It was a fenced storage compound.
I slowed down because a couple of bikers and a van came from the other direction. I felt suspicious, so I immediately turned off my headlights to avoid being noticed by them.
There were no streetlights — only a few dim bulbs on nearby buildings barely lit the road.
They entered a compound. I was a bit far, but my intuition told me they had entered the place I was supposed to go.
I pulled out the gun from the dashboard and tucked it at my waist. Then, I pulled out my sheathed knife on my leg below the knee, underneath the pants.
It had been there even back at Reina’s bar — I figured if they found it, I’d just let them hold it while we “discussed business.”
Turns out, they were either too confident… or just lazy.
I tiptoed and reached the compound, where a few bikers were loading the boxes into their van.
The bikes and van had the same silver-gray snake decal.
I quickly called Reina once I was further away from the compound so that the bikers wouldn’t hear me.
“Hey, Ms. Reina, quick question,” I whispered. “I’m the only one supposed to pick up this shipment, right?”
“Of course you are,” she answered. Then immediately: “Why? Is someone else there?”
“A few bikers,” I said. “All running a silver-gray snake decal.”
Her silence told me this wasn’t part of her plan either.
“Cool. Thanks for confirming. Don’t worry, I will complete the job,” I said and cut the call.
I moved back toward the compound, watching as they loaded my shipment into their van.
Simple job, my ass.
