“Where’d you get that?” the boy asked, watching Victor tear at the stale pastry with hungry, ugly focus.Victor didn’t look up. “From a bakery’s trash,” he said. “Don’t ask.”“You could’ve stolen it,” the boy said, incredulous. “Why risk?”“Because stealing leaves traces,” Victor interrupted, voice low. “If you want to survive, you learn to take what won’t be missed and leave people guessing.” He swallowed another bite. “Listen. What’s your name?”“Kai.” The boy sat closer, knees folded to his chest. “You’re Victor, right? I heard some people say.”“You heard wrong,” Victor snapped, then softened. “You heard my name. That’s fine.” He reached into his pocket and produced a tiny silver coin, an impossible thing in his state, and pressed it into Kai’s hand. “Keep that, for luck.”Kai’s eyes widened. “Where did you.”“Never mind.” Victor stood, rain-matted hair clinging to his forehead. “Can you tell me where Donovan’s men hang out? Not the big towers, small ops. The people who think they

The dawn smelled like iron and the city’s old cigarette smoke. Victor woke with his jaw clenched, the coin a cold weight in his palm. Kai was already up, sweeping a corner with a battered broom, eyes bright with that raw, boyish hope that made Victor both protective and careful. “Mira?” Victor asked.“She’s been watching the bookie’s back entrance all night,” Kai said. “Says the guard falls asleep when the rain comes hard. Today’s dry, he’ll nap.”Victor squinted toward the skyline, where glass towers took the sun like trophies. Donovan’s name glinted at the top of one of them in letters that felt like verdicts. He felt the system’s hum, patient and clinical.[Mission update: Ledger acquisition][Recommended approach: Stealth infiltration with social engineering backup][Ally involvement: Mira (insider), Kai (lookout)][Risk: Moderate-high][Reward: Full ledger copy]Victor slid the coin into his palm and pocketed it. “We move,” he said.They walked like a small army of three. Mira b

“Donovan wants the rat found,” Murray barked into his communicator, pacing the private hallway like a caged thing. “Find him. Bring him to me. No questions.”A clipped voice answered on the line. “Already on it, Murray. Check the Mercer feeds. There was a leak this morning.”Murray spat, anger raw. “A leak? I want a name, not gossip. I want a face that I can break.”He slammed the phone shut and forced a smile for the men waiting with him, two hulking enforcers who read loyalty like a ledger. “We’ll sweep Mercer. We clear Nolan. No one touches Donovan.”Outside Donovan Tower, the city moved as if nothing had happened. Inside, a man named Murray moved like a man whose pride had been singed. He had orders. He had fear. He had to show results.“Find him,” Donovan said later, in a voice that sounded like an exam you couldn’t pass. His office smelled of mahogany and the slow burn of expensive liquor. He laid the printed feed on his desk, hands steepled. “Bring me the one who took my paper.

“Tell me again why I should trust you,” Lena asked, voice thin as paper. Her office smelled of printer toner and a nervousness that had soaked into the upholstery.Victor didn’t flinch. He sat with easy patience, the ledger folded in a small, unassuming case on his lap. “Because if you don’t, Murray will break you in two and call it efficiency,” he said. “Because if you don’t, Donovan will patch your name on the public board and watch it rust. Because if you help me, you keep the one thing you need most, control.”Lena’s hands twisted in her lap. “You think Donovan will give me control if I help you sling dirt at his men?”“I don’t think,” Victor said. “I know how men like Donovan value the illusion of order. You give him a solved problem, someone to blame, and he rewards the fixer who found the tidy answer. You want reassignment? Promotion? A clean record? You help us sew the pattern we want him to see.”Lena’s laugh was brittle. “You make it sound like charity.”“It’s not charity.”

Murray went rigid. “I, he was there. He was with Nolan. He could be the conduit.”Donovan’s gaze sharpened until it cut. “And if he’s the conduit, why did you make him public? Why did you not bring me silence and a name? You acted for adulation, not results.”Murray swallowed. “I thought?”“You thought like a man who wants noise,” Donovan said. “Noise is useless. Answers are currency.”The room trembled with the weight of that statement. Murray’s face opened like someone who’d been told his hand was empty.“Find me the leak,” Donovan said. “Quietly. Bring me facts, not theater. If you cannot, you will prove yourself expendable.”Murray’s shoulders sagged like a man who’d been given a razor and told to judge himself. He had sought glory and, in pursuit, exposed his own incompetence.Victor, watching Donovan’s office from the shadowed edge of the tower via Lena’s small, nervous texts, felt a grim, efficient pleasure. His plan had not required a corpse; it required a crack. Murray had p