Ultimate Choice System: I Became The Richest!

245  Protection Mission (3)

A sliver of unease crawled up the assassin's spine. He had been in this game for years, had killed countless targets undetected. And yet—something about the way this man in the helicopter locked onto him felt wrong.

It couldn't be a coincidence.

His fingers tensed on the trigger.

And then—

PFFT.

The suppressed shot cracked through the night, slicing through the air like a ghost.

A split second later, a hole the size of a bullet bloomed in the assassin's skull. His body went rigid, then slack—slipping from the tree branch, his lifeless form disappearing into the foliage below.

Noah didn't blink.

His rifle immediately shifted, barrel tilting just slightly—adjusting for wind, for distance.

Fifty meters away, the second sniper—hidden among dense leaves, blending seamlessly with the trees—felt something cold coil in his chest.

He saw his partner drop.

And then, he saw the rifle aiming at him.

"Impossible."

The last thought that passed through his mind before—

PFFT.

A precise, merciless shot.

Blood misted the leaves. The second sniper collapsed instantly.

Noah exhaled slowly, his grip steady.

The world snapped back into focus.

His vision returned to normal. The weight of reality settled again.

Silence.

Only the chopper's blades filled the space.

The team—Natasha, Anderson, Nathan, Theo—watched him, their expressions unreadable.

Two shots.

No targets in sight.

But they knew Noah.

And Noah never missed.

Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly, remembering his earlier words. Even if my orders seem wrong, follow them.

Anderson was the first to break the silence. "…Snipers?"

Noah gave a single nod. "Two dead."

No hesitation, no doubt.

The moment the Ultimate Choice System activated, Noah's entire body tensed.

The glowing holographic screen hovered before him, unseen by anyone else, yet its impact was immediate.

The choices flashed in front of his eyes, crisp and absolute:

[Option 1: Eliminate all targets, leave none alive.]

[Reward: Your Information Will Be Leaked & Death of a Family Member]

[Option 2: Leave a few alive.]

[Reward: Intermediate Tracking Device & Increased Influence in the Military]

Noah's fingers curled tighter around his rifle. His breath remained steady, his face unreadable—but inside, a slow, simmering heat built in his chest.

A death of a family member.

It was the first time the system had presented such a consequence.

It wasn't a bluff. The system never bluffed.

Noah wasn't naïve enough to think it would directly kill one of his family members—no, that wasn't how it operated. But the leak of his information? That would inevitably set off a chain reaction leading to something catastrophic.

A family's death.

His mind raced.

If he eliminated everyone, who would even be left to leak his information?

Not his team.

He had personally confirmed their loyalty, using Advanced Memory Glance to scan through every memory they had related to him. There was no deception, no betrayal hiding beneath the surface.

Which meant…

The traitor was outside this battlefield.

Someone else—watching, waiting.

But who?

The realization shifted everything.

This wasn't just a protection mission.

It was a trap.

Noah's plan changed immediately.

His jaw tightened as he dismissed the screen by choosing option 2. Then, he turned to his team, his voice cool and commanding.

"Listen up."

His soldiers straightened instinctively.

"We drop down. You will all secure the scientist." His gaze swept across each of them, unwavering. "I will handle direct confrontation and—" his voice sharpened slightly, "—gather intelligence."

Anderson's brows furrowed. "Boss, splitting up in a high-risk situation is—"

"No discussion." Noah's voice was steel.

Natasha clenched her jaw. "Captain, we can't just—"

Noah turned to her sharply. His next words were ice.

"What did I say earlier?"

A chill ran through her.

She had never seen him this serious before.

The memory of his exact words came rushing back:

'Even if my orders seem wrong, or against the true purpose of our mission, you will follow them without issue.' @@novelbin@@

She swallowed.

No arguments.

"Understood," she said quietly.

The rest of the team gave short nods, though their concern was evident.

Noah didn't care.

His mind was already three steps ahead.

He had to let some of them live.

Not because of the reward. The reward meant nothing right now.

He needed at least one alive—to track, to interrogate, to confirm where the real threat was coming from.

And if it led him to the traitor?

He would rip them apart.

The helicopter pilot's voice crackled over comms. "ETA—thirty seconds."

Noah pulled his rifle close, adjusting his stance. "Get ready."

Natasha unhooked the rope, letting it drop. Anderson and Nathan secured their weapons. Theo exhaled through his nose, steady and focused.

The moment they hit the ground, everything would move fast.

The hunt was on.

The helicopter hovered just above the treetops, wind whipping violently through the leaves. Below, the dense jungle terrain stretched out, concealing the approaching assassins closing in on the estate.

Noah didn't hesitate.

He jumped first.

His boots hit the dirt soundlessly, knees bending slightly to absorb the impact. In a fluid motion, he raised his rifle, scanning the area.

His team landed behind him in quick succession.

"Move," Noah ordered.

Like shadows, the team split—Anderson, Natasha, Nathan, and Theo darting toward the main building where the scientist was being held. Their movements were swift, lethal, efficient.

Noah, however, didn't follow.

He turned the opposite direction.

Straight into enemy territory.

He disappeared into the trees, his body blending seamlessly with the darkness.

Silence.

Only the distant rustling of leaves, the quiet crunch of boots on dirt.

Noah's breathing remained even. He activated Advanced Clairvoyance once more.

Immediately—

Four enemies, closing in from the north.

Another three approaching from the west.

He adjusted his grip on his rifle, eyes sharp.

Time to get to work.

One of the assassins moved cautiously, scanning the area through his scope. His team was positioned strategically, closing in with trained efficiency.

Something's wrong.

They were supposed to have the upper hand.

The snipers had been taken out. Their movements had been detected before they reached the estate.

Who were they dealing with?

A single rustle in the trees made him freeze.

Then—

PFFT.

A silenced round tore through the air.

His vision blurred. His body dropped before his brain even registered he'd been shot.

Panic spread through the remaining three.

"Contact! Contact!" one of them hissed, raising his weapon. "Unknown shooter—"

Another bullet.

This time, directly between his eyes.

The remaining two assassins broke formation, diving for cover.

"Flank him!" one whispered sharply.

They moved in practiced coordination, cutting through the jungle's dense brush, attempting to outmaneuver their unseen enemy.

But Noah…

Noah had already moved.

The assassin on the left thought he had the angle.

He was wrong.

A shadow appeared behind him—silent, merciless.

Noah's arm wrapped around his throat, pulling him into a tight, unrelenting chokehold. His rifle clattered to the ground.

The man clawed at Noah's arm, gasping, eyes wide in pure terror.

"Shhh," Noah murmured against his ear.

Then—CRACK.

His body went limp in Noah's grip before he lowered him to the ground without a sound.

The jungle was a battlefield of shadows. Darkness clung to the trees, thick and suffocating, but Noah thrived in it.

Seven down.

Twelve left.

Five had already breached the estate. Seven remained outside—split into two groups, four covering the eastern perimeter and three patrolling the back.

Noah crouched behind a thick tree trunk, his rifle steady, breath slow and controlled. His Advanced Clairvoyance pulsed at the back of his mind, feeding him information. Every movement, every shift of their footsteps, was laid bare before him.

They had no idea he was there.

The group of four moved first, sweeping the area, rifles up. Their leader, a man with a jagged scar down his cheek, gestured forward.

"Clear the north side. We're missing too many bodies."

They moved in formation—tight, professional. These weren't amateurs.

Noah exhaled.

Didn't matter.

He raised his rifle, finger steady on the trigger.

PFFT.

The first man's head snapped forward, a neat hole appearing at the base of his skull. He crumpled before he could make a sound.

"Shit! Contac—"

PFFT.

Another one down.

The remaining two spun, eyes wild, scanning for a target.

Too late.

Noah was already on the move.

He emerged from the shadows like a wraith, pistol raised. The third assassin barely saw him before—

CRACK.

A single bullet punched through his throat, cutting off his scream.

The last one turned, bringing his rifle up.

Noah closed the distance in an instant.

He twisted the man's weapon away, grabbing his wrist and snapping it backward with brutal efficiency. A wet, sickening POP echoed as bone cracked.

The assassin screamed.

Noah silenced him with a knife to the heart.

His body slumped forward, blood soaking into the jungle floor.

Four down, only three left outside.

Noah turned his head, eyes sharp. The group of three behind the estate had heard the muffled sounds of struggle. They were closing in fast.

He moved.