Bruce's consciousness gradually stirred, like a dormant machine awakening from a deep slumber after it had been turned on. As his mind emerged from the abyss, he felt a gentle breeze caressing his face, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of his surroundings. Then, he felt a heat. It was a mix of sweat, gunpowder, tension, and the scent of blood, bringing about the instant trigger of his senses and immediate location.His mind was coming from numb to life, but the symphony of distant gunfire echoed in his ears, a dissonant reminder that the chaos of the battle that claimed his life still raged on.With a newfound awareness, Bruce's eyelids fluttered open, revealing a world in turmoil. Smoke filled the air, obscuring his vision, but his gaze penetrated the haze, searching for answers.Slowly, his surroundings came into focus. It was the last place he was before being killed, the checkpoint in his mission. He was lying on a cold, unforgiving floor, his body surrounded by pools of b
Bruce's head became free from the mechanical sounds and voice in his head. He knew he wasn't through nor was he close to being through as there are four more tiers to complete the game. However, he had what he wanted, a space of his, to enjoy being alive, spend some money and live free aside from chasing some enemies that were marked for him. Bruce left the bustling city of Crestwedge and its popular terrains and went to the outskirts, where local settlements were. On the first day, Bruce Wayne stepped into the bustling bar, the dim lights casting a warm glow over the vibrant atmosphere. The rhythmic beats of music filled the air, intermingling with the lively chatter of the patrons. It was a stark contrast to the solitary and intense world he had just left behind.As he made his way through the crowd, Bruce's mind wandered, relishing the newfound freedom that enveloped him. He revelled in the simple pleasures he had denied himself for so long, that he had been forced to deny. His t
After Bruce agreed to solve the locket, treasure and serial killer case, he shrugged and picked up the detective persona. The distraught man before him sat anxiously, clutching the briefcase in his hands.Bruce approached the man and sat in the spot where he last stood, his eyes filled with determination and empathy. "My name is Detective Liam Payne, and I'm here to assist you in finding your family heirloom. May I ask your name, please?"The man glanced up, his eyes reflecting a mix of hope and sorrow. "My name is Jonathan Cartwright," he replied, his voice trembling.Bruce nodded, noting the significance of the locket. "Mr Cartwright, could you provide me with some background information about your family name and the treasures you spoke of? How are you connected to the treasures that have been locked away?"Jonathan took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts before he began. "The Cartwright family has a long and storied history. We were once prominent landowners in the early days
Bruce parked his car near the old Cartwright estate, the engine humming to a halt. As he stepped out, he felt a strange silence in his head, an eerie void where thoughts usually raced. It unsettled him like a fog obscuring his clarity. He knew the silence only meant a thing - that he still had more time. Walking up the path, Bruce reached the front door and was taken by the guards. Guarded through the same old oath, and then down into a basement, Bruce came face to face with Pa Jonathan for the second time. Pa Jonathan Cartwright, a weathered old man with a stern expression, greeted him with a warm smile. "Pa Jonathan, I've been doing some digging on the site," Bruce began, his voice tinged with disappointment. "I haven't found anything concrete yet. And time is running out."Pa Jonathan's eyes flickered with a mix of concern and resignation. "Thank you, Agent Payne. I had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy. A smart mind is involved," he replied. "But there's something you should kn
Bruce sat in the club that was given in the inscription. His heart pounded in his chest as he expected to be met anytime soon. The walls were adorned with flickering diverse lights, blurring the spot from any clear view. He nervously adjusted the collar of his coat, feeling the soft touch of the black feather against his fingertips to know if it was still there. It was his identity.The hat on his head also added an air of mystery, shielding his face from prying eyes that would know him as Agent Liam Payne. As he took a deep breath, Bruce summoned the courage to order a drink from the bartender. The liquid burned as it slid down his throat, momentarily draining his tension and distracting him from the imminent danger that lurked in the shadows.He scanned the room, his eyes darting from face to face, searching for any sign of the serial killer who had given him this eerie rendezvous. He that he was somewhere looking at him. The minutes stretched into an eternity as Bruce's anticip
The day was bright with the sun up in the sky, casting its glow into the room, however, Bruce's day was cloaked in darkness, mirroring the uncertainty that lingered in Bruce's mind. He had spent countless hours immersed in thoughts of Robert the serial killer, whose sinister words still haunted him.After some hours, he delved deep into Robert Lawson's online history, Bruce discovered the chilling truth that Robert had been masquerading as a reporter all along. It was a clever cover, one that no one would suspect.Robert Lawson, the well-respected reporter who had been relentlessly pursuing the Riptide case for years, had become the very embodiment of the serial killer he sought to apprehend. Cooking up a cat-and-mouse story while he was both. A perverse irony that only heightened Bruce's fear and suspicion. He understood that refusing to play along would lead to his demise, but he yearned to discover how far he could push the limits before Robert turned on him.Waves of anxiety washe
According to Riptide's request, Bruce followed to the homicidal scene and they walked in. The chilly night air filled the desolate site, adding an eerie ambience to the already grim atmosphere. Bruce, determined but cautious, walked a few steps behind Riptide, his eyes fixed on the mysterious figure. He couldn't trust Riptide completely, sensing a lurking danger that could arise from behind. Riptide had exposed his aim to hunt Agent Payne in the past and he could still do it. Feeling Bruce's scepticism, Riptide turned to face him, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I know you're being cautious, Agent Payne," he began, his voice laced with a hint of sinister amusement, "but I've had agents as my victims in the past. If I want to play with you, I know exactly how to do it – not by bringing you here on your terms. We are partners, believe!"Bruce nodded, digesting Riptide's words carefully. The killer had a reputation for being cunning and elusive, never leaving a trace
The following day, as Bruce had planned, he placed a call to Riptide and he was given another club as their rendezvous. The club buzzed with the murmurs of conversation and the distant sound of music. Bruce sat at a corner table, casting occasional glances towards the entrance as he waited for Riptide to arrive.Finally, Riptide joined Bruce on his table and sat before him. He appeared in his masquerading attire as a reporter with a briefcase, a camera around his neck and some sheets of paper.With a slight nod, he approached the table, taking a seat across from him. The dim lighting played upon Riptide's face, emphasizing his mysterious demeanour.Bruce cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Good to see you, Agent Payne. Thanks for agreeing to meet."Bruce's voice carried a low, steady tone. "Likewise, Riptide. I'm always open to intriguing propositions." Bruce leaned back, his eyes locked with Riptide's. "I've been thinking about this alliance, and I believe we have the potentia