[Please, Host, pay attention. The tutorial phase has concluded. The System will now issue the True Main Quest.]
['Path of the Contractor' — The Host will embark on a journey to establish the world's most formidable Private Military Company, destined to stand above all competitors and cast a shadow over the global underworld.]
[Final Goal: Exceed 7777 Reputation Points. Title: Apex Commander.]
[Upon achieving this goal, the System will reward the Host with 7777 Points and unlock classified, reality-altering information.]
[The Host can earn Reputation Points by accepting high-tier contracts, expanding operational influence, and completing System-issued tasks.]
[Timed Mission ①: Achieve 100 Reputation Points within 6 months.]
[Success: One S-Rank Summoning Ticket and 100 Points.]
[Failure: The System will terminate the Host's primary anchor (Target: Laura Corvinus).]
[Timed Mission ②: Establish a formally recognized PMC within 7 days. Initial headcount requirement: Minimum 3 personnel.]
[Success: One B-Rank Summoning Ticket.]
[Failure: The System will terminate the Host's primary anchor (Target: Laura Corvinus).]
Listening to the series of missions echoing coldly in his mind, Dominik's face turned deathly pale in the dark living room.
Before the implanted memories had fully merged with his soul, Dominik was a pragmatist, a self-preservationist who believed in keeping his head down and never risking his own life unnecessarily.
However, after absorbing the emotional weight of a lifetime spent protecting his sister, Laura's status had completely eclipsed his own instinct for survival.
He could stomach the idea of dying in a firefight. He absolutely could not tolerate a mission failure that would result in the System executing his sister. The mere thought of it was a thousand times more painful than a bullet.
"Laura... I swear to God, I'll become the king of the underworld if I have to," Dominik gritted his teeth, his hands clenching into fists.
He couldn't tell anyone about the System's existence or the invisible gun pointed at her head. He had to bear this terrifying burden alone.
After a long moment of hyperventilating reflection, the sheer exhaustion of the past four days finally caught up with him. The adrenaline crashed. He dragged himself upstairs, took a scalding hot shower to wash off the grime of the Golden Triangle, collapsed onto the master bed, and fell into a dead sleep.
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Sizzle~ pop! The sound of fat rendering in a hot pan filled the air.
"Wow~" Laura rubbed her sleepy eyes, looking at the steaming bowls on the dining table. "Dom! Since when do you cook like this? This smells exactly like home..."
The secure villa they had rented was spacious and modern. The first floor featured a large, open-concept living room, two bathrooms, a fully stocked kitchen, and a sleek breakfast bar that connected to a dining table seating eight. The second floor housed the master suite Dominik had claimed, along with three identical guest bedrooms—where Simon and Laura had set up—and two communal bathrooms.
The reason the house smelled incredible was because Dominik had woken up before dawn. His body was exhausted, but the anxiety of the System's death threat kept him from sleeping deeply. Needing to keep his hands busy, he decided to cook Laura his ultimate specialty: a hybrid, hearty Hungarian breakfast.
He had raided the local high-end supermarket the night before. First, he fried up thick cuts of smoked bacon (szalonna) to render the fat, tossed in diced onions and sweet paprika, and added fresh tomatoes and peppers to create a rich Lecsó base. Adding hot water to form a robust broth, he boiled handmade csipetke (pinched noodles) directly in the stew, finishing it off by frying three sunny-side-up eggs in a separate pan to lay on top.
Just as Dominik was plating the final dish, Laura and Simon both came down the stairs.
Laura, still wearing her oversized sleep shirt, practically bounced to the dining table upon seeing the rich, red paprika broth and the steaming noodles. Her mouth was practically watering.
Dominik picked up the frying pan with his left hand, walked to the table, and expertly slid a perfectly fried egg onto each bowl. Hearing Laura's exclamation, he smiled.
"Four years of surviving on a university budget in Budapest weren't for nothing. Of course my Hungarian comfort food is top-tier."
"Yay!" Laura pulled out a chair and sat down eagerly. But upon looking at the place setting, she frowned. "Dom... you only put out forks. How am I supposed to eat a broth with a fork?"
"Oh, right. My bad," Dominik hastily put down the hot pan, opened a drawer, grabbed a large soup spoon, washed it quickly, and handed it to her. "Alright, eat up before it gets cold."
"Mmm~" Laura took a deep spoonful of the broth and noodles. Her eyes immediately lit up. She looked at Dominik, chewing happily. "It's so, so delicious, Dom!"
"Hehe." Dominik took his apron off, looking at her dotingly. "If it's good, eat as much as you want. We need to get some meat back on your bones after this week."
Laura didn't bother replying; she was entirely focused on devouring the meal.
"Ahem!"
Just then, Simon, who had taken a seat at the end of the table, looked at Dominik with a deeply resentful expression. He was entirely unmasked in the privacy of the villa, his scarred, ruggedly handsome face clearly visible.
Simon gestured to his own bowl. "I say, Dom. I can't eat soup with a fork either. Where's my spoon?"
Dominik took a loud slurp from his own bowl, glancing at Simon out of the corner of his eye. "Get it yourself. You have legs."
"You...!" Simon's eyes widened. He let out a heavy sigh, crossing his thick, tattooed arms. "Ugh! Pulling you out of that execution pit was the biggest tactical error of my life."
"Tch," Dominik wasn't to be outdone. He retorted unhappily, "When you used me as live bait to draw out cartel sniper fire back in the jungle, why didn't you think of that, you psychopath?"
"Psychopath?" Simon pointed a thumb at his own chest, feigning offense before smirking. "I'm a pragmatist. You were a liability. A complete coward."
Gulp! Dominik swallowed a mouthful of noodles hard. He pointed his fork at Simon. "Coward? I charged a staircase full of infected for you!"
Simon raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Coward, liability, scaredy-cat. Take your pick, mate. You were shaking like a leaf until we found Laura."
Dominik opened his mouth, then closed it, completely speechless.
Simon was right. He was a coward before finding Laura. He would avoid trouble whenever humanly possible. But the System had fundamentally changed the rules. It was forcing him to become a kingpin, or it would take the only family he had left.
Seeing Dominik's unusually quiet, discomfited expression, Simon's smirk faded into a slight, genuine smile. "Hmph. Just go get me a spoon, mate."
"You're ruthless," Dominik grumbled, glaring half-heartedly as he got up to fetch another spoon for the operator.
"Haha~" Laura looked at Simon, giggling with a mouthful of noodles. "Simon, why are you so scary and silent in front of outsiders, but you bicker like a child with my brother?"
"Him?" Simon pointed the newly acquired spoon at Dominik. "I shouldn't have saved him. I should have just let the cartel toss him into a ditch."
"Alright, alright," Dominik said, sitting back down. His face suddenly grew serious, the lighthearted banter vanishing. "I actually have something important we need to discuss. Eat up, but listen."
Seeing the sudden shift in Dominik's demeanor, Simon and Laura stopped joking, sensing the gravity in the room.
Dominik cleared his throat, locking eyes with the Tier One operator. "Simon, what are your plans now? Or rather... are you planning to find another contract out here?"
"Me?" Simon stirred his bowl thoughtfully, shaking his head. "I only cared about extracting you and Laura. Now that the job is done, I don't really have an objective. I'm a ghost in the system." He scoffed bitterly. "What exactly is a burned operator supposed to do in a world falling apart?"
"A Private Military Company," Dominik said evenly, leaning forward. "What do you think about starting our own?"