Damion continued his explanation of today’s special task. There were five briefcases in front of five people. Each person was to safely deliver the briefcase in front of them to the correct location. Naturally, they had all been given different locations.

Damion was describing some other details, but Gary was not paying much attention, still focused on the briefcase in front of him, waiting for it to move again. Gary was smart enough to figure out the reason for there being five briefcases. A few had to be dummies, mixed in to confuse whoever might plan to steal them.

If his intuition was right, the one in front of him was the real one. He could have sworn he saw it move, although ever since he had started staring at it, it had behaved like a normal briefcase.

Am I imagining things? Gary started to doubt himself.

He looked at the suited man who was closest to the case. The two of them made eye contact for a brief second before Gary looked away. If he kept up eye contact for any longer, he was worried he was going to get hit.

“All right, are there any questions?” Damion asked.

One of the students raised his hand. He was a tall, weak-looking boy with curly hair. He hadn’t been in the organization for long, and Gary had only seen him a couple of times.

“What’s in the package?” the boy asked.

Immediately, Gary clenched his fist and looked down at the floor, as he knew what was coming next. Just as expected, a few seconds later, he heard a whack and saw the student tumble from the corner of his eye.

The man looked like he was about to hit him again, but Damion interrupted him. “Stop. The boy is still new, so I’ll forgive him.” Damion then looked at the others before stopping at Gary. “Greeny, tell him the rules of being a transporter.”

“Yes, boss,” Gary answered, turning to look down the line of people. “Never take the package, never ask what’s in the package, and never look inside the package!”

“Excellent,” Damion replied with a slow clap. “Break one of these rules and… let’s just say you don’t want to break these rules. I can proudly tell you that we’ve never had anyone break the rules twice. Make of that what you will.”

He clicked his fingers, and one of the suited men handed each of them a small wad of cash wrapped in an elastic band. It wasn’t thick like in the movies, but judging by the size and weight, this job was the highest-paying job Gary had ever been on.

Each of them had been given five hundred dollars up front, which was half of the payment. They would get the other half when they returned upon completing the job. Seeing the amount of money in his hand, Gary gulped. A thousand dollars was a lot of money to him—especially as a sixteen-year-old—and best of all, it would go a long way to help out his family.

He was already doing calculations in his head. They could pay the electric and gas bills, and with what would be left, he could buy a new phone for his sister. This money was nothing for the gangsters, and simply put, they were taking advantage of the students; both sides were aware of that, but the students didn’t have another choice.

Where would they get a job at their age, not to mention such a high-paying one? All the supermarket and fast-food jobs had been replaced by computer screens and machinery. The construction sites were already full of manual laborers. Only technological whiz kids might get a job helping another corporation be the next new thing, and Gary wasn’t one of those people.

That type of stuff was more suited to his friend Tom.

Each of the students was given a location, and the job had officially started. When he picked up the metal briefcase, it had some weight to it, but it was hard to tell if anything was inside.

Jiggling it, he tried to guess what it was, and once again, another man gave him a stare.

“Right, don’t ask what’s in the case.”

They left the nightclub and went their separate ways, including the tall, curly-haired boy who now had a bloody nose.

“Stay safe, guys,” Gary said quietly, more to himself than the others, as each of them went off. During all of this, there was one big worry at the back of Gary’s mind. This was the highest-paying job they had ever received. The gangsters wouldn’t just hand out money willy-nilly, so this also meant it was the most dangerous job that he had ever been given.

There had been no problems so far on all of his runs. It was why the Underdogs were using students in the first place. They didn’t look suspicious, and their faces were unknown. There was less of a chance for the students to rat them out to another gang, and they would be too scared to do something like that anyway.

Still, there was a risk with every job, and it didn’t get easier. On the contrary, with each successful mission, it felt that at some point, his luck would run out.

It was safe to say that Gary stood out a bit. He was running around with a metal briefcase that looked too fancy for the clothes he was wearing. Usually, he did his drop-offs on foot, so he was still in his sneakers and his favorite black and red tracksuit.

He didn’t care about the gawking eyes that were looking at him, and he just hurried on. When he eventually reached the location, it turned out to be a construction site. The workers had already left and gone home for the day. The foundation for an apartment building had already been built, but there were no walls or roofs yet.

Gary was supposed to give the briefcase to a person who would meet him there. He waited at the center of the foundation, where there was nothing but the ground and a few bags of cement here and there.

Gary nervously tapped his foot as he continued to look around. When he pulled out his phone, it was 8:05 P.M., already past the meeting time.

“Hello!” Gary shouted, “I’m here.” His voice echoed slightly, but there was no reply.

Am I in the wrong place? After double-checking that he was in the right place, he sent a text to Damion.

Gary: No one here, what should I do?

It was the first time something like this had happened.

Tired of waiting, Gary started to walk around, checking to see if he could spot the person.

Then he saw it. He discovered a dark red liquid on the floor, coming from behind one of the building’s support pillars.

Please tell me that’s just paint, Gary silently prayed.

This wasn’t a movie, and Gary wasn’t dumb enough to go around the pillar when he was already sure there would be a dead person behind it.

Ding! His phone went off.

He pulled the phone out of his pocket, and there were only two words.

Damion: Run back!

Lifting his head, he saw a four-inch blade coming right toward him. Out of instinct, the only thing he could do was lift the metal briefcase, and thankfully he heard a clanging sound as the briefcase clashed with the knife, protecting his face.

He saw the man who had thrown the knife for only a brief second, because, before he knew it, Gary was running for his life. He didn’t know where he was running; he just knew he had to get away from that psycho. He could feel his heart beating so loudly that he thought it would jump out of his chest. He also noticed that his underwear was feeling uncomfortably warm as he had released his bladder.

I’m going to die! I’m going to die! That was a real gangster, and he just tried to stab me!

Running toward where he had come from, he saw a few more men wearing suits at the gate. As soon as they saw him, they charged.

There’s more! What the hell do I do?

Dashing to the side, he left the apartment building and headed to the more gritty area of the construction site where there were several mounds of dirt, diggers, and more. The problem was there were only two entrances to the site, the one that he had entered through and the other on the opposite end.

One was stationed in the north, the other the south, yet in his panic, he had run west. A wall topped with barbed wire surrounded the area. Even if he didn’t care about hurting himself, scaling something like that would be impossible.

Eventually, the adrenaline in Gary’s body had lessened, and he felt incredibly weak after the rush. His hands and legs were shaking, and he knew he couldn’t keep running for much longer. Diving in between objects, he eventually decided to hide behind a mound of dirt to catch his breath.

Peeking out, he saw three men, each with a blade in his hand.

At this point, Gary wondered if he should call the police, but if he did, then it would just be his own gang after his life.

Suddenly, the briefcase started to move about again, jiggling Gary’s hand slightly. It definitely felt like there was something alive inside.

What the hell is in there? But that wasn’t important right now.

He peeked around the corner again, planning his next move. He saw one person on his far left and the other on his far right, searching for him.

Wait, where’s the third person?

Suddenly, a sharp shooting pain spread across Gary’s lower back. It throbbed and felt warm.

Gritting his teeth, Gary turned and slung the briefcase around. The corner managed to smash the top of his assailant’s head, causing Gary to let go of the briefcase, which fell to the ground. The man appeared hurt and dizzy momentarily, but he wasn’t knocked out. More notably, Gary saw blood on the man’s hands.

Touching his back, he felt blood there as well. He had been stabbed.

“Damn it, I’m just a high school kid,” Gary blurted out.

The man looked stunned by the words for a second, as Gary’s weaving body was about to fall over from the shock and the tension of everything that was happening. As he fell toward the man, he thought about his sister’s smile and of his mother’s crying face if he were to leave them now.

Before hitting the ground, he fought through the pain and placed his left foot out, stabilizing himself. He twisted his hip and back foot, and with his right hand, he threw the strongest punch he could, hitting the man right on the chin. It wasn’t a jab but another kind of punch that he had seen Kirk do. Learning the principles of the jab had set him up for this perfect punch, a straight right.

On contact, he felt it connect cleanly with a surge through his arm. The man fell to the ground, knocked out, as Gary fell down at the same time.

Despite his accomplishment, he felt tired and weak, and he just wanted to close his eyes. The only thing he could see in front of him was the briefcase. It was moving more than ever, so much so that it looked to be jumping up and down.

“I don’t want to die,” Gary whispered, with barely enough energy to speak.

Click.He heard the briefcase opening up.

The next moment, his vision had gone to black. His senses were still slightly there, and he felt an even more immense pain now digging into his wrist. It was far worse than the stab wound, but he was too tired to even react or shout out.

Then, even with his eyes closed and his vision gone, something appeared in front of him:

Congratulations, you have been granted the Werewolf System!