Chapter 1: Nemesis of Evil (Please Continue Reading)

California, Los Angeles, Monterey Park, 1 p.m.

Ao Xi lay motionless in a corner, his eyes dull and his stomach growling with hunger. The bustling crowds walked past him, indifferent, skirting around him as if he were invisible.

He was from Huaxia, and a week ago he had acquired a "Nemesis of Evil" system, but it required a firearm to activate. As everyone knew, ordinary citizens in Huaxia could not possess guns—it was strictly illegal. After much deliberation, he decided to sell off his parents' inheritance and journey to America, to Los Angeles, reputedly chaotic and lawless.

No sooner had he disembarked and hailed a cab than the driver—an old black man—took him to a remote area and robbed him blind. It was robbery in the most literal sense: his wallet, phone, documents, luggage, even his suit and leather shoes were stripped away. Ao Xi tried to resist but was beaten viciously, left unconscious.

When he awoke, night had already fallen. He called the police, who told him to wait for further notice. From then on, Ao Xi became a proud member of the homeless. Fortunately, Los Angeles was full of charitable organizations; Ao Xi wandered about, queued for food wherever he saw others doing so, and at least managed not to starve.

Lying on the ground, gazing at the sky, Ao Xi grew increasingly restless. He was not a timid man, nor one to give up easily—otherwise, he would never have dared to come to Los Angeles so boldly. Fighting hunger and dizziness, he braced himself, mustered all his strength, and struggled to his feet, inching toward the nearby trash bin, where discarded relief food of questionable taste was often found.

Sure enough, inside the trash bin were a few pieces of nut bread. Someone had tossed them away, but Ao Xi couldn't afford to be picky. He grabbed the cleanest-looking slice and stuffed it into his mouth, only to be choked by its rough crumbs, coughing violently.

He clamped a hand over his mouth, determined not to spit out the bread. He had to eat as much as possible. Forcing down the morsel, Ao Xi rummaged through the trash bin, hoping to find some discarded water.

Hmm? What was that?

He hadn't found water, but at the bottom of the bin, something gleamed brightly. He reached in and picked it up, his eyes narrowing instantly.

A pistol.

Ao Xi glanced around—no one was paying attention, no one cared to watch a homeless man digging through garbage.

Why was there a gun in the trash? Who had thrown it away? Had it been used to kill someone? Would it implicate him?

His mind spun with questions, but his hands acted swiftly, snatching up the gun. It was his first time touching a real firearm: it was small, light, with a dull silver finish and a black grip.

On the slide were engraved: "jimenez arms, Costa mesa ca usa" on one side, and "J.A.22, .22LR" on the other.

Suddenly, a voice echoed in Ao Xi's mind: "JA22 self-defense pistol, manufactured by Jimenez Arms. Barrel length: 2.5 inches (6.35 centimeters), weight: 12 ounces (340 grams), simple blowback mechanism, fires .22LR rimfire cartridges, magazine capacity: 6 rounds.

Evaluation: Undoubtedly, this is a trash pistol, the lowest of the low. But for only twenty dollars, you can buy one in a secondhand shop. It fires, it can kill, what more could you ask?"

"Congratulations, host, you have acquired a weapon and activated the Nemesis of Evil system. This system is dedicated to combating crime. By eliminating targets, you can earn system rewards. Basic rewards include: US dollars, guns and ammunition, attribute points, skills, skill points, and occasional random bonuses."

"The host can see everyone's crime indicator. Judgment of the indicator follows the laws of the country you're in."

"Now generating host attribute panel:
Name: Ao Xi
Age: 23
Remaining lifespan: 56 years
Strength: 11 (average male: 10)
Constitution: 9 (average male: 10)
Reflex: 10 (average male: 10)
Speed: 8 (average male: 10)
Skill: English lv1—able to handle simple daily conversations."

"Newbie package granted. Congratulations, host, you have obtained the skill: Pistol Shooting lv1, equivalent to the training of a soldier after six months of military drills."

Suddenly, a flood of knowledge rushed into Ao Xi's mind: how to grip a pistol, load it, fire, inspect the weapon, shooting stances, tactical maneuvers, and more.

The Jimenez .22 in his hand felt instantly natural. Ao Xi deftly disengaged the safety, racked the slide to confirm there was no round in the chamber, removed the magazine to check its contents—three rounds remained.

After inspecting the weapon, he practiced two shooting stances right there beside the trash bin, squeezing the trigger twice.

Everything was smooth and fluid. Ao Xi had never handled a gun before; even during college military training, live-fire exercises weren't included.

He quickly concluded that the gun was indeed trash: the slide was oversized; it lacked a slide lock; the trigger pull was heavy, reducing accuracy; insufficient safety mechanisms made it prone to accidental discharge; the grip was thin and small, uncomfortable to hold; the sights were narrow, hindering aim at moving targets.

There were some advantages, though: the small caliber meant minimal recoil, making it easier for beginners to shoot. Despite the caliber, it could still kill. The gun's small size made it easy to conceal, and most importantly, it was cheap. If it really cost only twenty dollars, a homeless man could save up enough just by collecting a few hundred plastic bottles.

He looked around, reinserted the magazine, and tucked the pistol into his clothes. The gun was so small, and his charity-issued clothing so loose, that no passerby could tell he was armed.

Armed with a deadly tool, the urge to kill arose.

The knowledge in his mind, the ease with which he handled the unfamiliar weapon, convinced Ao Xi of the system's authenticity. He had gambled everything by coming to Los Angeles, and it had paid off.

The system's demand that he kill evildoers was unexpected, but eliminating criminals—those who broke the law—carried no psychological burden for him.

There was nothing more to say; it was time to act.

Ao Xi's eyes glinted with ferocity, glaring at every passerby, eager to find a villain to take down.

He now noticed colored circles above the heads of all the pedestrians.

Some were white, some gray.

Was this the crime indicator the system mentioned?

"Depending on the severity of crimes, the indicators are: white—no criminal record; gray—minor offenses; red—serious crimes; black—major felonies."

"The host may only proactively eliminate targets with a red indicator or higher. Deliberately killing those with white or gray indicators is forbidden; violations result in penalties such as reduced lifespan, diminished attributes, and more. Note: collateral damage or accidental harm from stray bullets is excluded; however, intentional use of weapons of mass destruction or biochemical agents is included."

"Special note: if a target is hostile toward the host and intends serious harm, the system will instantly change their indicator to red, allowing the host to retaliate immediately. Note: maliciously provoking others to attack, such as intentionally threatening or enraging them, does not count; if the host uses a weapon to intimidate or deliberately provokes an attack, such cases are excluded."

Simple and brutal enough—but could four colors really delineate every crime type?

Ao Xi doubted it, but it was beyond his control.

He understood only this: the pedestrians around him bore white or gray crime indicators—they were not his targets. Killing them would bring no reward, only punishment. He needed to find those with red indicators—the so-called "red names."

Ao Xi forced himself to quell his impatience, waiting for a red name to appear. But after half a day, only white and gray indicators passed by.

Exhausted, he finally slumped back into his corner, silently observing each passerby.

Why couldn't a couple of villains show up already?

Ao Xi was growing desperately anxious.