Apocalypse Trade Monopoly
Chapter 68: : Abort Now

Chapter 68: : Abort Now

Ava barely had time to process Jessica’s warning before a sharp ping echoed in her skull.

Not a sound—a notification.

[SYSTEM ALERT: NEW DIRECTIVE RECEIVED]

Ava stiffened. This wasn’t normal. Her system never gave her unsolicited directives.

The world around her dimmed, information filtering into her vision like a blueprint overlay. She blinked, and suddenly, there it was—a full-rendered map, glowing in faint blue lines, stretching across her mind like a wireframe of the district.

Her position flashed, marked in white.

Jessica’s? Yellow.

Angel’s? Red.

But what made her breath hitch—what sent a slow chill curling through her spine—was the second red marker, stationed just two blocks away, moving. Fast.

Ava’s pulse spiked. [UNKNOWN ENTITY INBOUND.]

Then, the message shifted.

[MISSION STATUS: ABORT.][EXTRACT IMMEDIATELY.]

She had seconds to decide. Ignore it, or act.

Ava exhaled slowly, schooling her expression. "Feng."

Jessica raised a brow. "What?"

Ava forced a smirk, shifting on her feet. "Change of plans."

Jessica frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Ava’s system pinged again, the red marker getting closer.

Her mind raced, every instinct screaming at her to move—but Jessica was still standing there, watching her with sharp suspicion.

[MISSION STATUS: ABORT.]

[NEW DIRECTIVE: TERMINATE THREAT.]

Ava’s breath hitched.

Terminate?

Her system had never issued a kill order before.

Jessica took a step closer, gaze narrowing. "Zhang. What the hell is going on?"

Ava’s fingers twitched. The weight of her blade pressed against her hip. The simplest solution was to act first. No hesitation, no questions. That’s what the system wanted.

Jessica was a threat.

Ava’s heartbeat pounded against her ribs, her system flashing new warnings. Too late. Too slow.

She shifted. Moved.

Jessica’s reflexes were good, but Ava was faster. Her hand snapped forward, fingers closing around the knife at her belt. A flick of her wrist—cold steel catching the dim glow of the bar lights.

Jessica barely had time to react. Her lips parted—shock, betrayal—then blood.

The blade sank deep, straight through her ribs.

Jessica staggered, hands flying to the wound, eyes wide with something far worse than pain—understanding.

Ava twisted the knife. Quick. Clean.

Jessica choked, her body shuddering before her knees buckled.

Ava caught her before she hit the ground, lowering her slowly. The mission was clear. The execution had to be perfect.

Jessica’s lips moved, voice a rasp. "...Angel will know."

Ava leaned in, pressing a hand over the wound to slow the bleeding—pointless, but calculated. She met Jessica’s dimming gaze, voice even.

"I know."

Then she pulled the blade free.

Jessica exhaled a sharp, ragged breath—then went still.

Ava’s system pinged.

[TARGET NEUTRALIZED.]

[THREAT ELIMINATED.]

She stepped back, exhaling. No time for regret. No time for second thoughts.

Ava wiped the blade clean. Time to go.

Ava’s system pulsed, cold and efficient.

[THREAT ELIMINATED.]

[INITIATING EXTRACTION PROTOCOL.]

A new overlay flashed across her vision—a calculated path through the streets, each step mapped with military precision. Five minutes to exit Level One. Ten to vanish completely.

Her hands were steady as she wiped the blood from her blade, sliding it back into its sheath. Jessica’s body was cooling fast.No time for hesitation. No room for mistakes.

Ava turned sharply, heading straight for the bar’s washroom. The mirror reflected someone she couldn’t afford to be anymore. The sleek dress, the lined eyes, the sharp red lips—all of it marked her as the woman Angel had brought in.

That woman needed to disappear.

Ava grabbed a handful of paper towels, wet them under the faucet, and dragged them across her face. The foundation smeared first, then the lipstick—red streaks against pale skin. Her eyes—too sharp, too recognizable—she dug through her pocket, pulling out a small bottle of neutralizing solution. A single swipe, and the lined perfection melted away.

The dress came next.

She locked the stall, stripping the sleek fabric from her body, bundling it into a tight ball. Too expensive. Too distinct. Too easy to trace.

Her system pinged again.

[NEW CLOTHING ACQUISITION: RECOMMENDED.]

Ava exhaled sharply, already ahead of it. From the hidden lining of her dress, she pulled out a compact roll of fabric weave—thin, lightweight, military-grade adaptive cloth. She shook it out, the material shifting on contact with her skin, forming a dark, fitted shirt and worn cargo pants. Low profile. Forgettable.

Boots replaced heels.

Hair pulled into a messy, uneven bun—not styled, not polished.

A stranger stared back at her in the mirror.

Perfect.

She shoved the ruined dress into the small incineration chute inside the washroom wall. One press. One second. The fabric vanished in a controlled burst of heat.

Her system pinged again.

[LOOKS: ALTERED.]

[TRACE: MINIMIZED.]

[EXIT ROUTE CALCULATED.]

Ava stepped out of the bar, the cool night air pressing against her skin. The streets of Level One pulsed with their usual rhythm—controlled, orderly, the illusion of safety carefully maintained by the military’s grip.

Her system pulsed, calculating.

[ROUTE CONFIRMED.]

[MAINTAIN STEADY PACE. AVOID SUDDEN MOVEMENTS.]

Her heart pounded, but her steps stayed even.

Jessica’s body was still warm. The cleanup wouldn’t take long—Angel’s people were efficient. But the moment her absence was noticed, the real hunt would begin.

Ava had ten minutes, at best.

She turned down a side street, following the highlighted path on her HUD. The system was threading her through the lowest-risk exits, away from high-surveillance areas, away from the checkpoints Angel controlled.

No turning back now.

Ava pulled her sleeves lower, adjusting the fit of her new disguise. The military-grade cloth adapted smoothly, dulling under the dim streetlights, blending into the shadows. Her boots hit the pavement with soft, measured steps.

Five blocks to the perimeter.

She passed a pair of guards—heavily armed, but distracted, talking over their comms about some minor dispute near the trading post.

She kept her eyes down. Unimportant. Unmemorable.

They didn’t stop her.

Four blocks.

A small group of traders loitered near a supply station, arguing over inventory counts. One of them glanced at her—a flicker of interest—then dismissed her entirely.

Good.

Three blocks.

Ava turned onto a quieter street, her system pinging sharply.

[DEVIATION DETECTED.]

Her stomach tightened.

There was a man standing at the next intersection.

Still. Waiting. Watching.

Her system scanned him instantly.

[IDENTITY: UNKNOWN.]

[AFFILIATION: UNREGISTERED.]

[THREAT LEVEL: MODERATE.]

Ava kept her pace steady, but her mind was already moving ahead. If he was here for her, he wouldn’t act immediately. Not in public.

Two blocks left.

The man shifted slightly, adjusting the strap of his bag. Not a direct threat—not yet.

Ava reached into her pocket, fingers brushing over the edge of a small smoke pellet.One move and she could disappear into the alleys.

The man lifted a cigarette to his lips. Lit it. Exhaled.

Then—he turned away.

Not her problem. Not tonight.

One block.

The last stretch. The street ahead curved toward a low-security gate, one that led out of Level One’s inner district and into the less-monitored areas of the city.

Her system pinged again.

[EXIT POINT CONFIRMED.]

Ava exhaled. She was almost clear.