Becoming the Strongest as a Game Dev

I glance around the bar, surrounded by the armed men, their guns pointed straight at me. I tighten my grip on my pistol, aimed at the bartender. The air is thick with tension, everyone ready to fire at the slightest provocation.

"Put down the gun and you may just get out in one piece," one of the men growls.

I quickly survey the scene, considering my next move. There's no easy way out of this, but I'm not about to give up without a fight.

"How about no,"

I fire a round at the bartender's shoulder, eliciting a cry of pain as he crumples to the floor. In a swift motion, I hurl my glass of whiskey, the amber liquid splashing across the nearest thug's face. He staggers, blinded and disoriented.

Seizing the opportunity, I yank him in front of me as a shield just as the other men open fire. Bullets thud into his body, and he jerks and convulses, buying me precious seconds to plan my next move.

I duck behind the bar as gunfire erupts all around me. Shards of glass and splintered wood fly through the air as the thugs unload their weapons. I clutch my pistol tightly, assessing the situation.

The bartender lies groaning on the floor, his shoulder bleeding. The man I used as a shield has crumpled lifeless to the ground. I peer over the bar, catching glimpses of the remaining goons taking cover behind tables and the bar itself.

Adrenaline surging, I lean out and fire a few precise shots, taking down one of the men before quickly ducking back behind the bar. The sound of shattering glass and splintering wood indicates they're returning fire with fervor.

I need to gain the upper hand. Gritting my teeth, I holster my pistol and reach for a sawed-off shotgun I spotted earlier. Bracing myself, I spring up and let loose a thunderous blast, the recoil slamming into my shoulder. Two of the thugs are blasted off their feet, their weapons clattering to the floor.

The remaining men hesitate, realizing their numbers are dwindling. I level the shotgun at them, daring them to make a move.

I grip the shotgun tightly, my eyes narrowing as I survey the remaining goons. They hesitate, realizing their numbers are dwindling. With a deep breath, I spring up from behind the bar, the shotgun roaring to life.

Two more men are blasted off their feet, crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs. The last thug tries to flee, but I quickly aim and fire, the buckshot slamming into his back. He cries out in pain and collapses.

The bar falls silent, save for the groans of the wounded. I step out from behind the bar, my eyes scanning the room. All the men have been neutralized. Holstering the shotgun, I approach the bartender, who is clutching his bleeding shoulder.

"Where's Vinny Moretti?" I demand, my voice calm but firm.

The bartender glares at me defiantly, his lips pressed into a thin line. I sigh and kneel down, pressing a piece of cloth to his wound.

"I don't have time for games. Tell me what I want to know, or this is going to get a lot worse for you."

I level the shotgun at the bartender, my grip steady. "Vinny Moretti. Where is he?"

The bartender's eyes widen in fear. "He'll kill me if I tell you."

I narrow my eyes. "Then you'll die now, or you might survive if you talk."

I narrow my eyes at the bartender. "Then you'll die now, or you might survive if you talk."

The bartender's face pales, and he swallows hard. "Okay, okay. Vinny's meeting with the Crimson Fists gang at the old warehouse down by the docks. It's going down in two hours."

I nod, satisfied. "Good. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

The bartender grimaces. "You don't know what you're getting into. Vinny's got a small army guarding that place. You'll be outnumbered and outgunned. You'll never make it out alive."

"We'll see about that." With that, I turn and stride out of the bar, already formulating a plan to take down Vinny Moretti and his goons.

The gallery watching Aria in the simulation mutters in awe. Sam grins, elbowing his Adder.

"Can you believe that? She waltzed right out of that mess without even breaking a sweat. Looks like I'm on my way to winning our little wager."

Adder scoffs. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Genesis. That was child's play compared to what's coming."

Yuna turns to Cedric, her eyes filled with curiosity. "Mr. Silverstone, if you don't mind me asking, how did Aria become so skilled? She handled that situation with such poise."

Cedric chuckles, his expression warm and paternal. "Aria has always been a natural talent, but she's also one of the hardest workers I know. She pushes herself relentlessly, driven by an unwavering determination."

He pauses, his gaze shifting to watch his daughter on the screen. "Aria is bold and headstrong, traits that have served her well. For our family, it's both a blessing and a challenge to keep up with her ambition."

Yuna nods, impressed by Cedric's insights. "It's no wonder she's so accomplished then. I admire her dedication and skill."

Cedric chuckles, his eyes fixed on the screen. "Let's see what Aria does next. Looks like she's reached the warehouse."

Yuna turns to Sam and Adder, who are engaged in a heated debate. "Guys, come on, quiet down. Aria's about to make her move."

Reluctantly, Sam and Adder cease their argument, redirecting their attention to the display. The group watches with bated breath as Aria approaches the warehouse.

"I wonder what kind of abilities that avatar of hers is packing," he muses aloud.

Yuna turns to him, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."

Adder lets out a scoffing laugh, drawing their attention. "Ha! The abilities I've built into this simulation are like nothing you've ever seen."

"Yeah, yeah, you're so loud."

"Damn you!" Adder growled, his brow furrowed in annoyance.

"Shh! Be quiet." Yuna interjected, shooting them a pointed look. Adder reluctantly fell silent, though he is still glaring at Sam.

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Advance chapters in my P@|r$0n/Najicablitz