# Neon Deadline: Assassin's Glitch

Author: Mara Reed
Site: ReadNovelHub
Canonical: https://readnovelhub.com/novel/neon-deadline-assassin-s-glitch
Genre: Cyberpunk-SciFi

## World
You have one countdown, one hacker, and no memory of who you killed.

## Tropes
- Forced Proximity
- Revenge Romance
- Werewolf Shifter
- Found Family
- Slow Burn
- LitRPG System
- Cyberpunk Sci-Fi
- Dark Romance
- EnemiesToLovers
- ForcedProximity
- FoundFamily
- SlowBurn

## FAQ
### What is Neon Deadline: Assassin's Glitch about?
You have one countdown, one hacker, and no memory of who you killed.

### Who is the author of Neon Deadline: Assassin's Glitch?
Neon Deadline: Assassin's Glitch is written by Mara Reed. Read Chapter 1 free on ReadNovelHub.

### Is Neon Deadline: Assassin's Glitch a Forced Proximity story?
Yes. Neon Deadline: Assassin's Glitch is tagged for Forced Proximity, Revenge Romance, Werewolf Shifter readers looking for North American romance-fantasy tropes.

### Can I read Neon Deadline: Assassin's Glitch Chapter 1 for free?
Yes. Chapter 1-5 Free. Chapter 6+ starts with a 3-day free trial, then $9.90/week. Start Neon Deadline: Assassin's Glitch on ReadNovelHub.

### What happens at the start of Neon Deadline: Assassin's Glitch?
"Don't move, or I'll paint this floor with your brains," a voice spat. Cold steel pressed hard into the base of my skull.

## Chapter 1 teaser
### Blank Slate, Sharp Blades

"Don't move, or I'll paint this floor with your brains," a voice spat. Cold steel pressed hard into the base of my skull. I didn't know who was holding the gun, and I didn't know where I was, but the smell of ozone and rotting garbage told me I wasn't in a five-star hotel. I tried to shift my weight, and the trigger clicked. "I said stay still, glitch," the man snarled. He sounded like he’d smoked a pack of nails for breakfast. "You’re a dead asset. Olympus doesn't like it when their trash starts walking back into the city." Olympus. The word sparked something in my head—not a memory, but a jagged piece of glass scraping against a wound. I didn't know who I was. I didn't even know my own name. But I knew the pressure of the gun was wrong. He was leaning too far to the left. "Who am I?" I asked. My voice sounded like it had been dragged through gravel. "You're a mistake," he sneered. "And I'm the correction." In one blur of motion, I didn't think—I just reacted. My right hand shot up, gripping his wrist with a strength that made the bone creak. I twisted. The gun went off, the blast scorching the air beside my ear, but the weapon was out of his hand before he could scream. I slammed him face-first into the corrugated metal wall. The sound was a wet thud. I didn't stop there. My knee drove into his lower back, pinning him, while my fingers locked around his throat. "Ask again," I whispered, my own voice surprising me. "Who am I?" "A... monster..." he wheezed, clawing at my arm. I squeezed. Not because I wanted to kill him, but because my body seemed to be operating on a separate set of instructions. It was like someone else was driving. My muscles knew exactly how to crush a windpipe, how to find the nerve clusters that caused maximum pain. "Wrong answer," I said. I tosse

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