Ultimate Choice System: I Became The Richest!

28  Damsel In Distress (2)

Noah's heart raced as he made the decision, Option 3 solidifying in his mind. As soon as he chose it, a flood of information poured into his brain — sharp, precise, tactical knowledge that wasn't there moments before.

The Basic Soldier-King Skill and Basic Inventory Skill snapped into place as if he had always known how to use weapons, how to survive, and how to handle extreme situations.

Just as the rush of knowledge subsided, the scene unfolded in front of him with terrifying clarity. The van, which had been creeping closer, stopped abruptly, right in the middle of the street. It was broad daylight, the sun still hovering above the horizon, but what happened next felt like a nightmare.

The van's doors burst open, and three men in pitch-black clothing, their faces concealed by eerie masks leapt out. In one swift, practised motion, they seized the woman. She barely had time to register what was happening before she let out a blood-curdling scream, her face twisting in shock and terror.

The sound of her scream cut through the street like a blade, sending shivers down Noah's spine. It echoed in the air, a desperate cry for help that no one seemed brave enough to answer. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Noah's eyes darted around. People stood frozen on the sidewalks, their faces contorted in horror, but no one dared to intervene. A few raised their phones, recording the incident from a distance, but no one moved to help. Fear gripped them all, paralyzing them in place. They couldn't risk stepping in — not when there could be weapons involved. Noah understood their hesitation.

"If I confront them now, I'll put everyone at risk. What if they have guns?" His mind raced, calculating his next move.

Confronting the men directly wasn't an option — not yet. He needed an advantage, something to level the playing field.

Then, he spotted it. A motorcycle parked just a few feet away, its engine still warm, as if it had been recently used. Noah's eyes locked onto it, and without a second thought, he sprinted toward the bike. The owner, a man in his late twenties, was getting ready to hop on.

"Hey!" Noah called out, urgency dripping from his voice as he approached the man. "I need your bike."

The man blinked, taken aback, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What? No way, dude, are you crazy? I don't even know you!"

Noah's hand instinctively reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of cash. He hadn't planned on using it, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

He peeled off $500, holding it out toward the man. "Here. It's yours. I just need the bike, now."

The man hesitated, looking at the cash and then at Noah. The bike was old, worth maybe $600 at best, and clearly past its prime. It was hardly a prized possession. After a moment's consideration, he grabbed the money and handed Noah the keys.

Noah didn't waste a second. He swung his leg over the motorcycle and kickstarted it into action.

The engine sputtered for a moment, then roared to life, its deep rumble filling the air. The motorcycle wasn't fast — not by a long shot — but with his Intermediate Driving Skill, Noah knew how to maximize its potential. Every muscle in his body responded with precision, his mind calculating the fastest routes, the best ways to handle sharp turns, and the smoothest gear transitions.

As he sped off after the van, weaving through traffic with ease, his focus narrowed. The city blurred around him, but his eyes stayed locked on his target — the black van, which was now pulling away at speed. He couldn't afford to lose them.

The moment the van sped off, chaos erupted on the street. People snapped out of their initial shock, some rushing toward each other in panic while others fumbled with their phones, desperately trying to call for help.

A woman in her mid-thirties, her voice shaky but determined, raised her phone to her ear as she dialled the police. "Hurry! Someone call the police!" she shouted, her eyes wide with fear.

"I'm already on the line!" a young man nearby responded, pacing frantically as the phone rang in his ear. He seemed to be struggling to keep his composure, his breath coming in quick bursts. After a few tense seconds, the call connected.

"911, what's your emergency?"

He spoke quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth as adrenaline kicked in. "Yes! There's been—there's been a kidnapping! A woman, she was just taken, right in front of us!"

"Calm down, sir. Where did this happen?" the operator replied, her tone professional, trying to bring some control to the situation.

"It—it's on Brookview and 8th! A black van, three men in masks just grabbed her!" The man's voice cracked with urgency as he watched the street where the van had disappeared. "They just grabbed her, right in front of everyone! It happened so fast!"

"Can you describe the van? Any details about the suspects?" the operator pressed.

"It was a black van, no plates that I could see," the man replied, his eyes darting around as if the details would somehow materialize from the chaos. "The guys were wearing masks, all black clothes, they were fast. Please, you have to hurry—she screamed, and then they just—"

"We're dispatching units to your location right now. Stay calm, stay where you are. Is the woman hurt? Did you see any weapons?"

"I don't think so, but—but they grabbed her roughly, and she was terrified. We didn't see any weapons, but they might have them!" he added, his voice rising again as he scanned the faces around him. Other bystanders were nodding, confirming the details he was giving.

"Alright, stay on the line. Officers are en route."

The young man exhaled sharply, his hand trembling as he clutched the phone. Around him, more people gathered, murmuring in low voices, their faces pale with shock.

One woman, clutching her own phone but too shaken to call, glanced at him. "Did they say how long until they get here?"

"They're coming, they're on their way," he muttered, barely able to focus as the weight of what he had just witnessed pressed down on him.

The crowd stayed where they were, a mix of helplessness and hope in their eyes, but none of them knew that Noah had already taken matters into his own hands, speeding after the van on a borrowed motorcycle.

I have received the Contract, Please support the novel with Golden Tickets if you like it. I will decide which novel to focus on based on the support I receive.

Thank you <3.

I'm also stockpiling chapters and will release them all at once, so update will be slow for a few days.

Risaliyah

Creator's Thought

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