Here's my new story, hope you all enjoy I'll plug my Discord and let you all get to enjoying for now
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The room was silent. No one wanted to speak—not Frank, not Luca. Even Midas remained quiet.
"I see. You didn't just come here to deliver the package. You came to threaten me, isn't that right, Adrian?" Midas finally spoke, though he didn't sound angry. Amused, if anything.
"Of course not. I just thought we could come to a mutual understanding. I can tell you're a reasonable man. And depending on how you look at it, I did you a favor. I led Aegis and Karina to their deaths and made the package disappear. No one is going to believe whatever story a criminal shouts into the void. In a way, you should be thanking me, no?" I said smoothly.
Midas chuckled. "Just a second ago, you spoke of how you sacrificed those two for your own survival because you believed it was more likely you'd walk out of this alive if you were the sole survivor. I suppose we'll see just how kind you are after your next words."
"Well, two things can be true at once, right? My actions just happened to be mutually beneficial for both of us. But of course, I have to keep my priorities in mind—I can't be a saint all the time." I smirked.
"Just speak." Midas's patience was thinning.
"I don't expect a man like you to be honest. That's why I planned ahead. If I die or go missing, things get... interesting. Do I make myself clear? I don't need to beg for my life. The moment I go silent, your real problems start."
Midas said nothing.
"I have dozens of emails, all scheduled to release detailed records of identities and the mission I carried out for you. A few exaggerations about the risk of this package I handled as well. If I don't manually stop those emails from being sent every few hours, say goodbye to the secrecy you're hoping for. And more than that, I have someone waiting on my word. If I disappear, the truth about this package spreads—to law enforcement, journalists, the entire criminal underworld, and some of the biggest hero organizations in the U.S."
"You're bluffing."
"Am I?" I leaned forward, eyes locked on his. "You should know—it doesn't take three hours to get from Yonkers to here in New York City. And yet, I arrived here a bit after three, three hours after the freight yard incident. Aren't you even a little curious about how I spent that free time?"
Midas stayed silent, weighing his next move.
[He's hesitating. That means he's considering it. Push just enough to tip him over the edge.]
"Even if I were bluffing, is it a bluff you can afford to test?" I let the question settle. "You're hesitating because you're afraid I planned ahead. And you should be. Why would I think of all this if I had no intention to put it into play? My confidence isn't blind, Midas. This is mutually assured destruction. As long as neither of us wants to face our worst-case scenario, we should just agree to live in peace."
Midas understands that if those emails leak and align too neatly with last night's events—the police reports, the freight yard incident, or even the testimony of a professional contractor now sitting in a prison cell—then the truth stops being nonsense and becomes an undeniable fact. My story wouldn't just be plausible; it would be airtight. I have first-hand details: the powers involved, the exact roads taken, the weapons used, codenames spoken in confidence, the precise modifications on every vehicle present; I even know the exact locations where I discarded Aegis's and Karina's masks, down to the last inch. When too many coincidences stack up, they stop being coincidences. Even a street rat like me, under the right circumstances, could become a credible source.
"Jackal. It's a fitting name," Midas said after a few moments of silence. "And it seems like a deserved one, too."
Frank and Luca exchanged surprised glances.
"Is that a compliment?" I asked, tilting my head slightly.
"It's an observation." Midas paused, letting his words settle. "Alright, you win, kid. Hand over the package, and we'll consider this over with."
"It's not here. In fact, I never had possession of it—not even once since I left the beach," I replied smoothly. "Why would I carry such a valuable piece of leverage with me after deducing the likelihood of a setup was high? That would be foolish. When my teammates asked me to put the briefcase in the trunk, I pretended to place it inside. Instead, I left it on the beach, buried just beneath the sand right next to where the SUV was parked. It was easy to conceal because of its weight, and the exposed portion? A simple kick of sand was enough to cover it. I knew you'd respond to a call about your precious luggage quickly, so I had little to worry about."
I could almost picture Midas rubbing his temples on the other side of the call. His precious package—an object of extraordinarily high value—was now sitting unattended at a public beach.
"...Frank," Midas finally spoke, not hiding his annoyance. "Hurry and take the kid with you. If you don't find the package, feel free to kill the little bastard. If you do find it… keep him alive. I want to have another talk with him."
"Understood, sir," Frank replied without hesitation.
"I'll be going, then," Midas said before the line went dead.
The room fell silent as the call ended. Frank packed up the laptop, his movements methodical, before standing. He and Luca exchanged a glance, their silent communication clear before turning to me.
"Let's go," Frank said.
I gave a simple nod and followed him out.
[They may try to kill you once they get the package anyway.]
Unlikely. They went through too much effort to erase this package from existence—using my team's deaths as a cover-up, ensuring every loose end was tied. Even the contractors hired to eliminate us weren't ordinary mercenaries. Either they were deeply trusted, or Midas never intended to let them live, either.
[Well, thinking about it now won't change much then.]
We moved quickly through the dim corridors, retracing our steps through the maze of doors and hallways that led us here. Eventually, we emerged outside.
"This way," Frank instructed, leading me without urgency but with absolute certainty. I followed, rounding a corner until we arrived in front of a sleek, four-door luxury SUV. Tinted windows. Armored plating. Other high-end modifications.
[Well, that answers the previous question.]
Debatable.
"Get inside. We need to reach that beach before it's too late," Luca said, sliding into the driver's seat while Frank took his place beside him.
I pulled open the rear door, giving a casual reply as I climbed in. "Yeah, yeah. Just drive. It'll be fine. It's almost 5 AM, and we're late into August."
"Well, I hope you're right. Your life depends on it," Luca muttered as he started the engine.
As we drove, curiosity gnawed at me. With my usual teammates, figuring out someone's power wasn't difficult. After enough jobs together, abilities became common knowledge in the market. But Luca and Frank? I had no way of knowing. No patterns to analyze, no records to reference. At the very least, I knew one thing—it wouldn't be smart to push them into showing me.
Instead, I leaned back against the headrest and exhaled slowly.
"Hey, kid," Luca's voice cut through the quiet. "Are you really only seventeen?"
"Your boss did his research. I doubt you have any reason to question him, but if you do—yes, I'm only seventeen," I replied.
"Why are you even here, then? Why are you involved in crime at all?" Luca pressed.
"I could ask you the same. You don't look much older than your mid-twenties."
"No, it's different." Luca's response was firm, confident. "People change a lot as they grow into adulthood, even if it seems like just a few years. And I'm not just some street thug. So why?"
"The Master said you ran from an orphanage, didn't he?" Frank added casually.
[Master? That's the second time he's used that word for Midas. Direct servant? Worker? Maybe a butler? Stereotypical. Of course, the old guy's a butler or something.]
"I did. I guess I didn't have a real reason to run. But I did it anyway, and I don't exactly regret that choice. After that, this was just the next natural evolution."
"How many have you killed?" Luca asked, his tone carrying something different now. Genuine curiosity.
"I haven't killed anyone."
Silence.
"It may sound unbelievable," I answered. "But I dont kill, I just clean up messes."
[You say that, but you don't fully believe it. Do you?]
"…" Luca remained quiet for a moment before shaking his head. "Even if you say that, I can't help but think, the world's really gone to shit if a kid like you is talking like this."
Frank finally spoke up. "It's not exactly the worst thing. Anyone who gets involved in shady business in the underworld develops a similar mindset to some extent."
[A lot of the most dangerous people in the world are the ones who fear nothing. Whether that's because they're crazy or because they're confident? Well… that's best left unknown most of the time.]
"Does a kid like you even have any friends?" Luca asked suddenly. His tone was casual, but the way he glanced at me through the rearview mirror betrayed a sharp curiosity.
"As you can imagine, it's hard to trust a bunch of middle-aged criminals," I replied dryly.
"What about your life outside of crime… as… what's your name again? Adrian Voss?" Luca pressed.
"Yes, Adrian. And as I've explained, my life of crime has only recently begun. That doesn't leave much room for a life outside it." I sighed, then let the question slide into one of my own. "Anyway, I'm more curious about something else—how much will I be getting paid after this mission is over?"
"The original pay was set at twenty thousand. That would leave you with sixteen after Cassian's cut," Frank answered, barely giving the topic much thought. "But I'm sure if all goes well, the Master will accommodate for your struggles. You'll speak to him after the mission anyway, so it shouldn't be a problem."
[Notice how easily he brushes money aside. To them, loyalty to Midas outweighs everything. Payment is just an afterthought.]
"We're almost here," Luca interrupted as the SUV rolled closer to the shoreline.
Just hours ago, I had fought to survive on this very beach. Now I had no choice but to return if I wanted that survival to continue.
"Just park here," I instructed as my eyes scanned the empty stretch of sand.
Luca complied, and we stepped out. The cool August air clung to my skin as my feet sank into the familiar grit.
I led the way toward the spot where Aegis, Karina, and I had parked our SUV earlier. Beaches are notoriously featureless—just water, sand, and sky. But as I studied the terrain beyond the beach, tracing the alignment of streets and shoreline contours, the memory sharpened, guiding me to the exact place I'd buried the case.
There it was: an uneven patch of sand, slightly raised above the rest. I gave it two solid kicks, and the edge of the briefcase revealed itself.
"There's your case. I think this concludes our deal," I said, stepping back. But I didn't get far.
"Not so fast," Luca muttered, the cold steel of his gun pressing against my back. Frank crouched, brushing away the sand until the case was fully exposed. He checked it carefully, eyes scanning the serial number before lifting it with effort.
"The serial number matches. And the weight is right. This has to be the real deal. The case itself is practically one of a kind," Frank confirmed, glancing at both me and Luca.
"Well then, can I go now? I did as asked," I replied evenly.
"You still have that meeting with the Master left. Did you think we'd forget?" Frank asked as Luca shoved me toward the SUV, the muzzle digging into my spine.
[You should have known this would happen. Midas was ready to massacre two groups of contractors for this case. Did you really think they'd let you walk away so easily?]
Of course not. But with a gun at my back and no knowledge of their abilities, there was nothing to do but move. As we neared the SUV, Luca slammed me against the door with a thud and clamped cold steel cuffs around my wrists. They weren't taking chances.
My fate was in Midas's hands now. Even with blackmail to leverage, if he was the kind of petty villain who despised being outmaneuvered, he might decide I wasn't worth the trouble. He could order my death and deal with the fallout later.
[Or, if he's as practical as he seems, he'll keep you alive—at least long enough to decide how to use you.]
With no escape in sight, I let myself be shoved into the backseat of the SUV, the cuffs biting into my wrists. For now, the game continued.