CHAPTER 38: CHAPTER 38

Ace didn’t answer immediately. He let the silence stretch for a beat, his eyes flicking from Marcus to the sedan and back. "Why are you here?" he asked. He kept his voice calm and steady to break through the tension. "The meeting was scheduled for Dockside Warehouse 7B at 10 AM." He gestured slightly towards the glowing red numbers of the motel room clock, barely visible from the doorway. "It’s barely 8:50."

Marcus’s scarred cheek twitched as a slow, predatory smile spread across his face, revealing his yellowed teeth. "We make the rules here, kid," he rumbled, taking a half-step closer. His voice dropped, thick with menace, as he added, "Ramos decides where and when. You don’t get a schedule; you get an order." Casually letting his hand drift towards the bulge under his jacket, he demanded, "Now, where’s the box?"

Ace stood firm in the doorway of Room 7, his voice deliberately flat, mirroring Marcus’s earlier dismissal of the plan. "Gone," he stated. "It doesn’t matter why you’re early or where you showed up. The box isn’t here. It’s been destroyed and the pieces scattered to places your people wouldn’t even think to look." He paused, letting the full meaning sink in, then deliberately turned his gaze towards the sedan’s dark window. "But the proof is safe. The names, the recordings, the numbers Deke gathered – it’s all encrypted. And if anything happens to me, or to Evelyn, or to Silva, or if anyone else connected to us suddenly vanishes, that proof will be automatically sent to every news organization, every rival crew, and every police officer who has a grudge against Ramos."

Marcus’s smile vanished, replaced by a snarl. He took another step, his hand now clearly gripping something under his jacket. "Have you got rocks in your head, kid? Are you really threatening us right here?"

"I’m just stating facts," Ace shot back, refusing to flinch. He looked directly at Marcus. "Like you said, you make the rules. Fine but this is my place and here I make the rules. And my rule is this: If you harm us, I’ll release Ramos’s secrets to the entire city. You wanted the physical box? It’s too late for that. You want the information it contained?" He gestured towards the sprawling city beyond the motel. "That information is my leverage now, and I control it."

The silence that followed felt thicker and heavier than before. Ace could feel the weight of Ramos’s gaze through the tinted glass, colder and more calculating than Marcus’s rage. Then, with a near-silent hum, the rear window of the sedan slid down.

Victor Ramos was smaller than Ace had expected, yet he radiated a chilling stillness. His lean, gaunt face was framed by perfect silver hair, and he wore an immaculate charcoal suit that spoke of quiet power rather than flashiness. His dark eyes, unnervingly calm, locked onto Ace with no sign of anger or bluster, just an icy assessment.

"Come here, kid" Ramos said. His voice was soft, cultured, a stark contrast to Marcus’s growl, yet infinitely more terrifying. "Let us discuss rules. And leverage."

Ace paused for just a second. He knew showing any fear right now could be deadly. He stepped away from the doorway, leaving Room 7 exposed, and walked slowly towards the sedan, stopping a few feet from the open window. He kept his hands visible.

Ramos looked him over carefully, taking in the worn jacket, the clean shirt, and the defiant posture. "You have spirit," he observed, "and unexpected resources. Deke clearly underestimated you and it cost him his life." Ramos steepled his fingers thoughtfully. "However, this dead man’s switch idea you’re proposing... it’s crude and inelegant. Such a plan invites chaos.’ He paused, then stated softly but firmly, ’And chaos is poison to business.’"

Ace remained silent.

"The box," Ramos continued, keeping his tone conversational, "contained my property. It was stolen by an employee who betrayed me. I need to get it back." He paused briefly. "You claim the box is destroyed and can’t be recovered. But whether that’s true or a lie doesn’t matter now. What does matter is the knowledge that was inside the box. And I know you have that knowledge."

"Knowledge is powerful only if you use it carefully," he explained. "Sharing it openly? That’s what someone desperate or inexperienced would do, not a smart planner. It destroys trust and makes hidden enemies strike back in ways you can’t predict." He leaned forward slightly, his intense gaze locking onto Ace. I propose we discuss a more civilized alternative."

Ace’s eyes narrowed. "What alternative?"

"Work for me," Ramos said simply. "Your talents intrigue me. The way you find leverage and secure it is impressive. Even when rules change unexpectedly," he added, a ghost of a smile touching his lips, "you adapt. That kind of initiative and resourcefulness is exactly what I value."

Work for the man who ordered Deke’s execution? Who threatened Evelyn? Disgust churned in Ace’s gut. "Why would I do that?"

"Because," Ramos said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "If you release those secrets, you won’t just make me angry. You’ll make everyone named in that file furious." He leaned forward slightly. "Councilman Graves holds grudges. Judge Hemlock has connections in very dark places. Detective Borland... well, he carries a badge and a temper. Release their secrets, and you sign not only my warrant, but your own and on Evelyn’s and Silva as well. The people in that box won’t just come for me, boy. They will destroy everything and everyone involved to cover up their secrets, starting with you."

A cold dread seeped into Ace’s bones. Ramos wasn’t bluffing. He was stating cold facts. The System hadn’t warned him about this. The System’s Info Finder only worked with public information, not the secret networks of corrupt power. Releasing the data might ruin Ramos, but it would also make Ace a huge target and put everyone close to him in terrible danger.

SYSTEM ALERT: NEW PRIMARY OBJECTIVE

TASK: ESTABLISH SECURE REVENUE STREAM ($2000/WEEK)

DURATION: 7 DAYS

REWARD: SKILL - NANITE SWARM LV.1

PENALTY (FAILURE): TEMPORARY PARALYSIS (48 HRS)

The blue text pulsed showing the revenue figure: $2000 a week. This money could be a lifeline, but it also felt like it might be a trap.

"What would this work involve?" Ace asked, his voice tight.

"Find leaks in my operations. Identify vulnerabilities. Deke stole from me and others might try. You have a talent for uncovering hidden things. Use it." He made a dismissive gesture. "Start with small tasks to prove your worth. And remember, discretion is essential."

"And in return?"

"You and your friends will live," Ramos stated flatly. "You’ll also earn ten percent of the value of any... irregularities... you uncover and help us fix. Think of it as a finder’s fee." His gaze sharpened. "And in the process, you’ll learn what real leverage means. It’s not about crude threats, but about controlled influence."

"How do I know you won’t kill me after I’m useful?" Ace asked.

Ramos smiled, a thin, cold curve. "A tool that finds one leak can find others. And a tool that understands its own value becomes far more efficient. But if you betray me..." He left the threat hanging in the air. "So, do we have an accord?"

Ace looked past Ramos, at the crumbling motel. He thought of Evelyn stitching a USB drive into her hoodie, Silva’s terror, the System’s paralyzing countdown, and Ramos’s chilling prediction of a multi-front war if he released the data. He had no safe moves left. Only survival.

"Yes," Ace said, the word scraping his throat.

Ramos nodded and said, "Good. Marcus will give you the contact instructions. Your first task involves a minor problem in a shipping ledger. You’ll get the details soon." Then, the car window slid up silently, and the sedan drove smoothly away.

Marcus stepped closer, his expression unreadable. He pulled a cheap burner phone from his pocket and thrust it at Ace. "This number only works between 8 PM and 8 AM. If you need to contact us, call it and let it ring just once before hanging up. We’ll call you back. Understood?"

Ace took the phone. It felt like a shackle. "Got it."

Marcus’s eyes held a warning. "Don’t screw up, kid. The boss’s patience has limits." He turned and climbed into the SUV. Seconds later, Ace stood alone on the cracked walkway.

He walked back into the empty room. He need to inform Evelyn about thus. He grabbed his burner, called The Grind House.

"Ace? How are you?" Her voice was tight with worry.

"I’m alive," he rasped. "Ramos showed up himself. We struck a deal: I work for him, finding leaks, and he gives me ten percent. It just barely keeps me safe and fed... for the time being."

"Work for him?" Evelyn’s disbelief crackled down the line. "After what he did to Deke? After threatening us?"

"He pointed out the flaw in our plan" Ace said grimly. "If we release that data, it wouldn’t just hurt him. Powerful figures like Graves, Hemlock, and Borland would also target them to stop the leak permanently. Ace noted that Ramos himself had been surprisingly logical about it, stating that widespread chaos hurts his business interests. Ace paused, taking an unsteady breath before adding another urgent problem: they desperately needed access to their own money immediately at least two thousand dollars every single week.

"Legitimately?" Evelyn asked.

"Let’s call it legitimately adjacent," Ace replied, an idea forming. "We can’t use the blackmail data for blackmail itself. Instead, we can offer discreet problem resolution to the people Deke was squeezing. We help them manage their exposure risks... for a very significant fee."

"Like a... corruption concierge service?" Evelyn asked, her tone dry yet thoughtful. "It sounds risky, but potentially lucrative. However, we’d need clients immediately."

"There’s someone we can target," Ace said, recalling the ledger. "Detective Borland. Deke had compiled evidence against him. But if Borland learns Deke is gone and realizes someone else now has that evidence..."

"He might pay handsomely for the illusion of security," Evelyn finished. "Or at least, for the promise we won’t be the ones to expose him. How do we approach without sounding like cheap extortionists?"

"Leave that to me," Ace said. "Meet me at the workshop in Unit B-17. We’ll need a base and a name...something neutral."

"Give me thirty minutes," Evelyn said. "Silva has finally calmed down behind the counter, I’ll get him to cover the machines."