Liam sat in the back of a high-rise café on 34th Street, eyes shaded under his cap, fingers wrapped around a lukewarm cup of tea he hadn't touched.
Across from him, ten minutes late, came the wolf.
Arman Erdem.
Sleek suit. Open collar. Hands adorned with gold rings that gleamed when he moved them. His smile was calm, polite — the kind of grin you wear at funerals when you're pretending not to enjoy the power shift.
He extended a hand.
Liam didn't shake it.
Arman laughed, unbothered.
"You must be Ghost-Hand," he said in a tone that was both amused and vaguely insulting.
"I don't confirm rumors," Liam replied evenly.
Arman leaned in, voice low. "Neither do I. But I do pay for results."
The Dance BeginsArman ordered coffee in Turkish. Flawless. The waiter responded with a nod, already familiar.
This wasn't Arman's first time here.
Liam remained still.
Arman tapped the table.
"I don't usually meet people like you. Anonymous. Efficient. Mythical. In our line of work, myths usually get shot in the head."
Liam said nothing.
"Then again," Arman continued, "when someone manipulates six fixed games across three boroughs and every result tilts exactly how they want… you start to wonder."
He placed a betting stub on the table.
It was one of Liam's games. The Saints +9.
"You didn't fix this. No bribe. No inside man. Just… shifted. Tilted."
Liam's fingers tightened slightly around his cup.
The Proposition"I don't like being lied to," Arman said, sipping his coffee. "So I'll say this clearly. I fix games. Legal ones. Illegal ones. Soccer. Tennis. I make bad men look rich and rich men stay clean."
He folded his hands together.
"But lately? Things don't go as planned. You've tilted my world. I want to know how."
Liam let the silence stretch.
Then finally: "And if I don't explain it?"
Arman smiled wider.
"I still win. Because knowing you're real is the first step. The rest? Just time."
System Scan[Target: Arman Erdem – IQ: 143 | Deception: High | Resistance: 89%]
Thread Probability: 17.2% (Failure Risk: Critical)
Suggested Strategy: Trust Baiting + Controlled Reveal + Soft Corruption
Liam whispered under his breath, "Mist Layer."
A small flicker in the air — almost like static. Arman blinked once, confused.
His perception wavered. Only slightly.
Just enough.
Thread Probability: 28.9%
Proceed?
Yes.
Liam reached into his pocket and pulled out a plain USB drive.
He slid it across the table.
Arman raised an eyebrow.
"What's this?"
"Proof I can see more than you do."
Arman hesitated. Then took it.
"If this is a virus—"
"It's not. It's a full prediction model for three Turkish league matches this weekend. Down to injury-time substitutions."
That made Arman pause.
Longer this time.
The Unraveling Begins"You expect me to believe this wasn't stolen from an insider?" Arman asked, eyes narrowing.
"I expect you to test it. If I'm wrong, delete the number that gave it to you."
"And if you're right?"
Liam leaned forward, voice like steel.
"Then you're already working for me."
Arman didn't laugh this time.
He stood. Slowly.
"I'll be in touch."
Then he left.
System Ping[Network Threading Attempt: Passive Infiltration Mode Activated]
Tracking Thread Through Digital Echoes…
Anchor Chance After Game Result: 48.6%
Risk: Arman may attempt reverse engineering. Caution advised.
Liam exhaled, finally letting his shoulders loosen.
He knew it was a long shot.
But Arman was a man who worshipped certainty.
And Liam? He was about to show him how much fun it was to live without it.
Meanwhile: Cracks in the PawnJason Reese wasn't doing well.
The stress. The secrets. The paranoia.
He'd followed every order. Made every delivery. Even picked up intel from a dirty cop on the Ghost's behalf.
But it was catching up.
His girl left him. His sister OD'd last week. And he hadn't touched a pill in nine days, which made his skin itch like fire.
And now someone was following him.
A black Charger. Tinted windows. No plates.
Every night for a week.
He texted Liam's burner.
"Need help. Think I'm being watched. Ghost I'm scared man."
No reply.
Because Liam saw it coming.
[Anchor Deterioration: Jason Reese – Loyalty 72% → 41%]
Stabilization Required. Suggest: Reward / Personal Visit / Psychological Reset
OR:
Trigger Collapse. Extract value before disposal.
Liam stood in the shadows of his apartment.
Staring at that screen.
Thinking.
Meanwhile: The Turkish Games BeginThree days later, the Turkish League matches unfolded exactly as Liam predicted.
The USB had been perfect.
No bribes. No refs.
Just chaos, micro-biases, and a system that whispered where to bend the odds.
Arman didn't call.
He didn't message.
But Liam saw the ripple online: betting lines freezing, forums buzzing, bookies panicking.
And the next morning, a single black envelope slid under Liam's apartment door.
Inside: A silver coin. Turkish lira. Ancient, worn.
No note.
Just the coin.
[Anchor Update: Arman Erdem – Curiosity Threshold Passed | Resistance 54%]
"The Wolf is circling the flame."
ChoicesLiam now stood at a fork.
Arman — intelligent, powerful, calculating — could become his greatest asset… or his first real rival.
Jason — loyal, cracked, dangerous — was slipping fast.
The system offered both options.
Path A: Secure Arman. Expand international reach. Begin constructing "The Table."
Path B: Stabilize Jason. Clean up loose ends. Build a trusted circle.
Path C: Burn Jason. Use collapse as warning. Cement fear.
Liam didn't speak.
He just smiled.
Not a happy smile.
A Joker's smile.
The kind that came before the flip of a coin.
And the world — whether it knew it or not — was about to lose the toss.