New Harbor's Westside district never sleeps. It's all hustle and bustle, every day, every night. Neon lights blink through smog, sirens echo in the distance.
Beneath the shine and glitter sits The Vault—an infamous underground casino where criminals and politicians rub shoulders. Money moves faster than conscience here. Power changes hands before you can blink. Secrets are the real currency, worth more than chips on any table.
Mavis stands across the street, wearing a dark hoodie pulled low over his face. He looks calm and ready. Just another shadow in a district full of them.
The System's voice echoes in his mind:
[Mission 1: Recover the Donard Fortune.]
[Location Identified: The Vault, Westside.]
His father's hidden fortune wasn't sitting in some bank vault with his name on it. It was too obvious and too vulnerable. Instead, he'd smuggled it into this very den years ago, buried under fake identities and shell corporations. Hidden in plain sight where no one would think to look.
Mavis crosses the street and approaches the entrance. Two bouncers flank the door, both built like concrete walls. They don't even glance at him as he passes. To them, he was just another gambler looking to lose his paycheck.
Inside, it's a different world entirely.
People crowd around card tables, shouting and laughing. Slot machines blink and chime endlessly. The air is thick with cigarette smoke and expensive perfume. Dealers shuffle cards with practiced ease. Women in short dresses move between tables, carrying drinks. In the darker corners, bodies press together—some gambling, others engaged in more intimate transactions.
Bodyguards line the walls, their eyes sharp and constantly scanning. This place is built on deception and vice. Everyone here is either taking advantage or being taken advantage of.
The System guides Mavis through the chaos. A faint blue arrows appear in his vision, visible only to him, leading him past the main floor toward a service hallway in the back.
[Security Scan Detected. Host Identity Mask Activated.]
Mavis catches his reflection in a mirrored pillar as he passes. His face blurs slightly, the features shifting just enough to become unremarkable. It was generic and forgettable.
"Thanks," he mutters under his breath.
[You're welcome.]
The service hallway leads to an elevator marked "Authorized Personnel Only." Mavis steps inside. The System interfaces with the controls. Numbers light up—basement levels that don't appear on any official blueprint.
The elevator descends smoothly. When the doors open, the atmosphere changes immediately.
Pure tension took over.
The lower level is all business, steel doors, biometric scanners, and red security lasers crisscrossing the corridors like deadly spider webs. No gambling down here, no laughter. This is where The Vault keeps its "special clients" funds—black accounts, laundered money and assets that can't see daylight.
Mavis moves carefully. The System projects old Donard encryption codes directly into his vision, sequences only someone with his bloodline would recognize.
[Authenticating access key… Verified. Donard Legacy Account: Active.]
A heavy vault door stands at the end of the corridor. It should require multiple security clearances. Instead, it simply disengages when Mavis approaches, the locks recognizing something in his DNA.
The door slides open with a soft hiss.
Inside, rows of digital servers hum quietly. Gold bars are stacked neatly on reinforced shelves, gleaming under fluorescent lights. Hard drives labeled "DND Foundation" sit in climate-controlled cases.
Mavis breathes out slowly, looking around the room in disbelief. "Dad... you hid it in plain sight."
[Vault Secured. Assets Recovered: $120 Billion.]
One hundred and twenty billion dollars. His father had hidden a fortune here, right under the noses of New Harbor's most dangerous criminals. The audacity of it was almost beautiful.
Mavis lets his fingers brush against the gold bars. It is cool, solid and real. He starts examining the servers, looking for data he can extract.
Then he sees two files sitting on a separate shelf. Physical files, not digital. One is labeled "Lawrence Corporation." The other reads "L. Holdings."
His hand hovers over the second file. L. Holdings. Something about that name tugs at his memory. Where had he seen it before?
Then it clicks—the Sonar mansion. Papers on Knuckles's desk, corporate documents Charlotte had been reviewing. L. Holdings had been mentioned.
Why would his father keep a file on them locked up here?
Before he can investigate further, alarms blare throughout the lower level as ed lights flash. Somewhere above, guards are shouting.
"Someone's inside the restricted system!"
"How the hell did they get past biometrics?"
"Lock it down! Now!"
Mavis grabs both files and shoves them into his jacket. The System's calm voice cuts through the chaos:
[Skill Unlocked: Adaptive Evasion.]
Immediately, Mavis's perception sharpens. Time seems to slow slightly. He can see movement patterns, predict trajectories, calculate escape routes in fractions of a second.
His body moves before his mind fully processes the decisions. Instinctive and precise.
He disables two security cameras with quick strikes, then slips through a corridor as guards rush past. A bullet tears through the air where his head was a moment ago. He's already gone, moving like smoke.
The System provides real-time updates in his vision:
[Four hostiles. Northeast corridor. Distance: 30 meters.]
[Exit route recalculated. Follow guidance.]
Blue arrows lead him through the maze of corridors. He vaults over a railing, drops to a lower level, rolls to absorb the impact.
At the exit, the System activates something—a small EMP device Mavis didn't even know he was carrying. Electromagnetic pulse. It triggers with a soft whine.
The Vault goes completely dark. Total blackout, as emergency lights flicker but fail. The entire building's electrical system crashes, slot machines die mid-spin, card tables plunge into shadow as screaming erupts throughout the casino as panicked gamblers scramble in the darkness.
Mavis pushes through the fire exit and emerges onto the street. Neon lights from surrounding buildings reflect off his calm face. Behind him, The Vault erupts into chaos as people were streaming out onto the sidewalk, security guards shouting, sirens approaching in the distance.
But Mavis doesn't look back. He's already walking away, with his hands in his pockets, he was just another face in the Westside crowd.
[Mission Complete. Reward: Enhanced Intelligence + Business Acumen.]
Information floods his mind again, but gentler this time. Business strategies, market analysis, corporate warfare tactics, and financial structures. It all slots into place like he'd been studying for years.
A faint smile touches Mavis's lips.
"One vault down," he murmurs. "Four more to go."