Chapter 39: Chapter 39 : Paige Vs Jennifer [3]
The arena held its breath.
Jennifer’s voice cracked through the comms which was like really furious. "Kill him! Now!"
Six lasers fired at once.
Jax moved.
Not a panicked dodge. Not a desperate roll. Just a slight shift of his torso—left, then right—his feet planted firm. Five lasers screamed past him, missing by millimeters. The sixth, aimed dead center at his chest, he sidestepped with a single pivot.
The crowd gasped.
Jax didn’t look scared. Didn’t look worried.
He looked annoyed.
"That all?" he said, voice carrying across the silent arena.
This wasn’t fear. This was his domain.
Guns. Precision. Reflexes. Strategy.
Back on Earth, he’d dominated every Vr gungame that existed. Counter-Terrorist. Valor of ant. Call of Beauty. His accuracy stats were inhuman. His game sense was unmatched. Professional players studied his clips. Tournaments feared his name.
Even the assassins would take interest from his game.
And here? In this world?
The confidence hadn’t faded. It had only grown.
This wasn’t just a game to him. It was instinct. Muscle memory carved into his brain over thousands of hours.
He was a demon with a gun.
And nobody here knew.
[Flashback -Same Morning]
Jax had woken to Kai’s call about the bet. After hanging up, he’d barely processed it when the system chimed.
Ding.
[New Quest: Save the Rayne Family]
[Objective: Prevent the fall of House Rayne in the upcoming bet against House Reed.]
[Reward: Technique Stat +10]
[Failure: Paige Rayne loses half her empire. Kiera’s reputation destroyed. House Rayne falls from power.]
Jax stared at the notification.
’Technique plus ten? That’s... huge.’
He opened his stats screen.
[TCH (Technique): 4 / 50]
’If I get this, it jumps to fourteen. That’s a massive leap. Technique affects skill, finesse, mastery of moves...’
His lips curved into a grin.
’In bed, that means unlocking new positions, combos, performance boosts. With fourteen technique? I’d actually know what I’m doing instead of fumbling around like a virgin.’
He leaned back, thinking.
’And in two days, I’m claiming Jennifer and Zinnia. Both of them. Together. If I walk into that with fourteen technique instead of four...’
He smirked wider.
’Yeah. This quest is worth it.’
He stood, grabbing his jacket.
’Besides, till the fight with them in bed... let’s fight in the arena first.’
Jax arrived at the Next Gen Arena early. He slipped through the back entrance, avoiding the crowds. Found the prep area where Paige’s team was gathering.
The old man—Chef Elio, the cooking champion.
Jax walked up to him. "Trade places with me."
The old man jumped. "What? Who—"
"Jax Rayne. Paige’s son."
Elio’s eyes widened. "Oh. I... I don’t know It would be a good idea—"
" I’m taking your spot." he didn’t wanted to waste time in arguing.
"But the rules—"
Jax shook his head. "The rules say teams of six registered members. The draft is currently happening. Names are not locked. But soon will be". He looked at the screen. With just the games he knew what was happening ’Dirty games huh Jennifer..’.
He added. "Look at the games and tell you response."
Elio hesitated, then exhaled in relief. "Honestly? I’m not built for this. If you can help... please."
They switched quickly. Jax registered himself in and by the time the game was selected.
He was provided a armor.
Jax pulled on the armor piece by piece. The weight settled over him—heavy, restrictive, but manageable.
When the teams suited up and entered the field, no one noticed. The armor covered everything. The visor hid his face.
Inside that field, among humans, an aim demon had arrived.
And nobody knew.
[Present]
Jax stood in the center of the arena, rifle raised. His face showed confidence and Excitement.
It wasn’t about the spotlight. He didn’t care about glory or fame.
He just loved the game.
Observe. Learn. Adapt. Dominate.
That was his foundation. The basics drilled into him over years of competitive gaming.
He’d spent the entire match observing. Every shot fired, he tracked. Every movement pattern, he memorized. Every corner of the arena, he mapped.
The laser rifle in his hands—Model LR-47. Military-grade. He knew it now like an extension of his body.
Recoil delay: 0.3 seconds. The barrel pulled left slightly after each shot.
Beam spread: 2.1 degrees at 50 meters. Tighter than most rifles, but still required adjustment for distance.
Charge time: 0.8 seconds between shots. Fast, but exploitable if you knew the timing.
Weight distribution: Front-heavy by 1.2 kilograms. Affected aim if you didn’t compensate.
Magazine capacity: 30 shots. No reload—energy cell swaps took 1.5 seconds.
He’d watched Jennifer’s team fire over a hundred shots during the match. Calculated their preferred angles. Their reaction times. Their movement habits.
The sniper liked high ground, 45-degree angles. The flankers moved in mirrored patterns. The mid-range riflers always fired in pairs.
He knew them better than they knew themselves.
And now it was time to execute.
Jennifer’s team recovered from their shock. The sniper—perched on the elevated platform—fired first.
Her laser cut through the air, aimed at Jax’s head.
Jax didn’t flinch. He shifted his weight onto his back foot, leaning his torso two inches right.
The laser missed.
Before she could fire again, Jax raised his rifle. Aimed. Fired.
His laser hit her chest dead center.
Her armor flared red. Eliminated.
The crowd erupted.
"He—he just out-shot the sniper?!" the announcer stammered.
Jax smirked. "One."
The two mid-range riflers charged forward, firing in tandem. Their shots crossed paths, creating a deadly web of lasers meant to cut off all escape routes.
Jax’s eyes tracked both beams. He calculated their angles in a fraction of a second.
He dropped into a crouch. Both lasers screamed over his head.
He fired twice—left, then right.
Both shots hit. Clean. Precise.
The riflers’ armor lit up red. Eliminated.
"Three down!" the announcer screamed. "In under thirty seconds!"
The crowd was losing its mind. Chants. Screams. Disbelief.
Jennifer’s remaining team—two flankers and Jennifer herself—spread out, trying to create crossfire.
Jax tilted his head. "Flankers always mirror. Predictable."
The left flanker circled wide, moving behind a barrier. Jax didn’t have a direct line of sight.
But he didn’t need one.
He fired at the metal barrier. The laser hit at a precise angle, ricocheting off the surface.
The deflected beam curved and struck the flanker’s shoulder.
Her armor flickered. Not eliminated—just damaged.
She fired back blindly. Her shot went wide.
Jax sidestepped, fired again. This time, center mass.
Eliminated.
The second flanker tried to rush him from the right. She moved fast, firing as she ran.
Jax counted her shots. ’One. Two. Three. Four.’
He knew the recoil pattern. Knew where her fifth shot would land.
He stepped into the gap between the fourth and fifth shot.
Her laser missed.
His didn’t.
Eliminated.
Four down in under a minute.
The crowd was deafening. The screens replayed his movements over and over. Frame by frame. Shot by shot.
Only two remained.
Jennifer and Zinnia.
Zinnia stepped forward slowly, rifle raised. Her hands trembled. Even through the armor, Jax could see her fear.
"Zinnia Reed here," she stammered through the comms. "I... I won’t lose this time."
Jax chuckled. "Third time’s the charm, right?"
He could hear her breath hitch.
She fired.
Her shot was desperate. Panicked. It flew wide by at least a meter.
Jax didn’t move. Just stood there, rifle lowered.
"Come on, Zinnia. At least make it interesting."
She fired again. And again. Each shot worse than the last.
Jax sighed. "Guess not."
He raised his rifle casually. Aimed.
"See you soon. In two days, remember? You and your mom. Don’t be late."
He fired.
The laser hit her chest. Her armor flared red. Eliminated.
Zinnia collapsed to her knees, trembling. "No... not again... not him..."
Jax ignored her. His eyes locked onto Jennifer.
Jennifer stood frozen. Her rifle shook in her hands. Her confident posture from earlier—the one where she’d mocked Paige, where she’d declared victory was gone.
Replaced by raw primal fear.
"You..." her voice cracked through the comms. "What... what are you?"
Jax walked toward her slowly. Each step deliberate. His rifle still lowered.
"What am I?" he repeated. "Just a guy who’s really, really good at this."
Jennifer raised her rifle. Fired.
Jax tilted his head. The laser missed by inches.
She fired again. Missed.
Again. Missed.
Her hands were shaking too hard. Her breathing too erratic.
Jax stopped ten meters away. "You done?"
She fired three more times in rapid succession. Desperation.
Jax sidestepped the first. Ducked the second. The third wasn’t even close.
"I’ll take that as a yes."
He raised his rifle. Aimed at her chest.
Jennifer’s voice broke. "Wait! Please! I—I’ll give you anything! Money! Resources! Just—"
"Not interested."
"Please!"
Jax’s finger hovered over the trigger. Then he paused.
"Actually, there is one thing."
Jennifer’s eyes lit up with hope. "Yes? Anything!"
Jax smirked. "Two days from now. You and Zinnia. With me and same room. You already know what I want."
Her face went pale.
"Consider this a reminder."
He fired.
The laser hit her square in the chest. Her armor flared bright red. Her rifle discharged. Her body locked.
Jennifer collapsed to the ground, helpless, defeated.
The arena exploded with noise.
The announcer’s voice barely cut through the roar. "UNBELIEVABLE! JAX RAYNE HAS WON! SINGLE-HANDEDLY! TEAM RAYNE WINS! JENNIFER REED IS DEFEATED!"
The screens replayed everything. His dodges. His shots. His precision. His dominance.
The crowd chanted his name. "JAX! JAX! JAX!"
Jax stood in the center of the arena, rifle lowered, face calm.
He looked down at Jennifer. She stared up at him, eyes wide with shock, fear, and something else—humiliation.
"Remember this moment," Jax said quietly. "You rigged the poll. You stacked your team with professionals. You mocked my mother. And you still lost."
He turned away, walking toward Paige.
Paige’s armor had unlocked. She pulled off her helmet, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Jax... you..."
He shrugged. "Couldn’t let you lose everything, could I?"
The system notification flashed in his vision.
[Quest Complete: Save the Rayne Family]
[Reward: Technique +10]
[TCH: 14 / 50] +14
Jax smirked. ’Perfect. Now I’m ready for what comes next.’
The crowd continued to roar. The world had just witnessed a massacre.
A boy who walked into a rigged game and shattered it completely.