The older salesman’s voice cracked as he muttered, almost choking on his words. “I… I can’t believe it. This—this doesn’t happen. People don’t just—” He stopped himself, shaking his head like he was trying to wake up from a bad dream.Dylan stood there calm, the jingling of the keys soft in his palm. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t gloating. He just looked at the two men with a steady gaze, and that silence was louder than any shouting.The younger salesman’s lips trembled. He shifted from one foot to the other, rubbing his damp palms down the sides of his slacks. “I—I didn’t mean it like that,” he stammered, his eyes darting anywhere but Dylan’s face. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just thought—you know—policy… rules…” His voice faded off, thin as paper.Dylan tilted his head slightly, as if he was listening, but his face gave nothing away. He just let the younger man’s excuses crumble in the air.The older salesman leaned forward in his chair, trying to put steel in his tone, but

Meanwhile – Dylan’s SideIn the black car, Dylan leaned back against the leather seat. The man beside him—the one with slicked-back hair—glanced sideways.“They’re spooked.”“Good,” Dylan said simply.The man smirked. “You like breaking them, don’t you?”Dylan didn’t smile. “It’s not about breaking. It’s about showing them the cracks were already there.”The car rolled forward, rain blurring the city lights. The man asked, “So, what next? Do we pull them in or let them stew?”Dylan finally looked at him, his eyes sharp as glass.“Let them stew. Fear cooks slower that way. By the time I go back… they’ll hand me everything without me asking.”⸻Back at the showroomKevin suddenly stood up, pacing again. His words tumbled out fast.“We can’t just sit here! Mike, we have to do something. Call the manager, tell him the truth, maybe he can fix it!”Mike snapped, “No! Didn’t you hear what they said? We tell no one. That includes the manager.”Kevin spun on him, eyes wild. “So what, we just w

The storm didn’t let up.Rain hammered the windshield in sheets, the wipers dragging back and forth like they were barely holding the world together. Dylan’s knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as the black sedan glided down the slick road, tires hissing against the soaked asphalt.His nerves were still raw from the confrontation at the dealership. Every word he had thrown at Mike and Kevin replayed in his head like shards of glass scraping.Too easy, he thought bitterly. They folded too quickly. That means they’ll scheme when they’re desperate. People always scheme when cornered.His jaw flexed. He couldn’t afford to get sloppy. Not now. Not with everything about to unravel.A crack of lightning split the sky, bleaching the night for an instant. Dylan’s eyes flicked to the left, where the skeletal frame of a half-finished construction site loomed on the edge of town. Rust-colored beams jutted upward like broken ribs, black against the storm-lit sky.And then—he noticed it.A

The knife wielder advanced again, blade whispering as it cut through the humid air. “Enough.” His voice was soft, but the intent was clear: he would end this now.Dylan didn’t flinch. Instead he flicked his chin toward the woman. “You know what else I heard? That your boss has someone in the finance office who’s gone quiet. A folder called Nova2. Heard of it?”The men exchanged glances. The scarred man tightened his grip on the woman’s arm. “You’re trying to bluff. You don’t know—”“Maybe I don’t,” Dylan said. “But you do. And if you go back with an empty car, someone’s gonna ask pointed questions. People get curious when money moves without paperwork. People like me get curious when a woman is paid to do a job and ends up on a street corner in the rain.”The knife wielder’s hand wavered. “So what? You gonna run to the cops? Tell them your pretty little theories?”Dylan’s smirk returned. “I already called them. Twice.” He could see the breath leave the knives’ owners in a visible exha

Dylan’s boots crunched against the wet asphalt, rain streaming off his coat like liquid steel. He stepped forward, every inch a predator coiled for the strike. The men froze, the tension of the storm and his presence warping the space between them.“Walk away now,” Dylan said, his voice low, chilling, carrying over the pounding rain. “And you breathe tomorrow.”The tallest man, a hulking figure with broad shoulders and a jaw set like an anvil, laughed harshly. “Breathe tomorrow? Who the fuck do you think you are, washed-up nobody?”A shorter man with a scar running down his cheek, knife glinting, smirked. “Yeah, man. You’re in over your head. Best get the fuck out while you can.”The tallest one nodded at the others. “This guy doesn’t know what he’s dealing with. Rico doesn’t like losing. You’ll regret sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”Dylan’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve got no nose to stick. Just ears. Eyes. And the ability to make bad decisions very, very expensive.”A new v