Jael lugged the heavy briefcase up the uneven steps of his tiny apartment. The strap of his backpack dug into his shoulder, and a faint ache had started in his jaw from clenching it so tightly. He placed the case on the floor, letting it thud against the tile, and paused. The faint smell of damp carpet and stale smoke filled the room.He knelt and unlatched the case, the crisp scent of fresh bills almost shocking against the grit of the apartment. He counted once, then twice, just to make sure. Two hundred thousand. Every single bill exactly as it should be.His hands trembled just slightly—not from fear, but from the strange surge of possibility that rolled through him like water breaking a dam. Two hundred thousand dollars. He could feel it in his bones: this was the first move of everything he was about to build.Jael sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by the soft hum of the apartment’s single fluorescent light. Dust clung to the corners like forgotten memories, and the old