Cartel Experience-Chapter 33: Bye.

That face... oh man, César wasn’t just shocked, he was completely paralyzed by what had just happened, though it wasn’t about the fact that he killed the Chief of Police at the police department, but nah, he didn’t even care about any of that, none of it mattered, he didn’t even think about getting out of there fast, before someone walked in or before anyone checked the cameras.

He had been shocked before, like when he got the "One Will, Two Lives" special card, but this... this was different, completely different. It was the kind of shock that he couldn’t even put into words.

He just stood there, silent, unable to fully process what had just happened. What card had he actually gotten? Could this be real?

A Red Rarity card, not just any card, but one that was absurdly powerful, ridiculously overpowered... no, not just overpowered. This was a cheat card, the kind of card that broke every rule.

César’s brain couldn’t catch up.

"I must be hallucinating... there’s no way I actually got one..." César whispered, his voice trembling as he looked up at the System window.. But it wasn’t a hallucination, the card was there.

[System: You are not hallucinating. You killed Hoffa.]

"Not that... the card." He whispered again, and the only thing that reminded him of what he did and what happened was Peter.

The same Peter who was still suffering on the side, just trying to take it all in... he was in pure shock, still vomiting, trying even though nothing should have been left to throw up.

And to be true, that smell started to hit César... like the vomit and the blood mixed together, it was something else. It was the kind of sting that existed on a completely different level of disgusting... but the card was worth it all.

[System: Be happy. You got a card you will never get again.] 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

The System wasn’t really on César’s side, it was more like those people who, when something good happens, only see the bad in it, though what it said was true..

The Obsidian and Red Rarity cards were a level above reality, the majority of the players didn’t even believe these cards existed and yet, here it was.

"Is this... the one I think it is?" César asked again, his voice low, almost a whisper, as his mind raced through everything he knew, every forum post he had absorbed over years of obsessing over this game.

And it was actually kind of easy to figure out, since there were only ten of these cards in the entire game.

[System: You are right. The "Festive of Lost Souls" Red Rarity Special Card is one of the ten cards, and it ranks fourth among them.]

[Festive of Lost Souls is based on festivals from various cultures that celebrate the dead. In some of these traditions, it was believed that the dead could return to the living world]

[This card allows you to summon three selected people from your past lives. It does not matter if they died or not during those lives, you can freely choose anyone you want. Once summoned, they remember you, but there is a small difference. They will be edited to fit the current world’s setting, blending with reality while still carrying the essence of their past selves.]

Another long silence followed as he went all in, fully absorbing every single word. This time, the silence was real, Peter had finally stopped vomiting, or whatever it was he had been doing, and the only thing left was the sting of blood and bile in his mouth.

So I can see three people from my past life... let it be anybody? An enemy, a business partner, and so on?

[System: Exactly and they will fit the word setting, but you should be thinking about the card. You need to escape before you get caught.]

That is a good idea, César thought as he turned toward Peter and then another problem came up, something he hadn’t even considered, something he couldn’t handle the same way he had handled Hoffa.

"Peter... are you good?" He asked as Peter was on the ground, sitting next to the wall, aiming his gun at him.

His eyes were the kind César had seen many times before, those desperate eyes, the eyes of someone in shock, trapped in fear, not even fully present in their own mind. It was even more clear by the way the gun was shaking in Peter’s hands, the safety was on and his finger wasn’t even on the trigger. He was holding the gun like a shield, not like a weapon, as if it were the only thing keeping him anchored to the world, to his own life.

Which meant one more thing.

I fucked up.

[System: Indeed, you did.]

César’s plan had been to use Peter, but looking at him now, realizing that he was tweaking out or had a very real chance of becoming permanently traumatized, it was obvious things had gone wrong.

[System: Perhaps stabbing Hoffa in the neck and expecting Peter, drenched in Hoffa blood, to remain calm was overly optimistic.]

"Hey, Peter." César began as he smiled... which didn’t really help the situation. He tried to give it a better atmosphere, but the blood, the smell, and Hoffa’s body didn’t help at all. "Is there a back door, like an emergency exit somewhere?" He asked so calmly that it made no sense. Peter had no sense at that moment; he was just staring at him, though César clearly asked for a reason.

If somebody is in that kind of pure shock, literally terrorized, you need to approach them differently. César knew that, and he did but of course, Peter said nothing back.

"Oh, I don’t even need you to tell me. Here is the emergency escape route." César said as he looked at the layout on the wall. "So I go out and to the right, and there’s a door to the back stairs down to the parking lot... huh." He looked back at Peter, but nothing had changed. "Well... bye. I hope we will meet again." He lightly waved at him as he stepped out of the interrogation room, then paused, turned back to grab the knife, and went out again, heading straight toward the emergency exit.

There was nobody in the hallway, so he made his way down the stairs, and there came the next problem. As he opened the door, a guard stood on the side smoking a cigarette, and he immediately noticed César and moreover the blood on him.

"Hey, who are—"

The poor guy couldn’t even enjoy his cigarette as César stabbed him in the stomach and covered his mouth as they went to the ground. "Shhhh, it is not that bad, and the adrenaline is taking over. You feel nothing, and I’m not going to pull out the knife, okay?" César asked fast as he eyed him. "It is a small knife, a small wound. I stabbed at the right spot, so mister guard." He looked to his side. "How bad it is, only a taser... well, bye."

He stood up, and at that moment he started sprinting, jumping the fence of the parking lot, and it was over.

He escaped, and with it, chaos would begin... a chaos where the peaceful city would turn into a battlefield, a city that would soon be drenched in blood.