Emperor Of War

Chapter Thirteen: The Debt Collector

Adam Swift's POV

The night air felt cooler as Dax and I left the Carter estate.

Behind us, the once-proud gathering remained in chaos. Derek Carter had survived, but only because he had given me something more valuable than his life.

Hope. The possibility that my brother might still be alive. For ten years, I had buried every memory of that night beneath anger and revenge. Believing Taylor was dead had been easier than carrying false hope.

Now everything has changed. I walked silently through the streets while Dax followed beside me. Neither of us spoke for several minutes.

The city lights reflected against glass buildings and expensive storefronts. Cars moved along crowded roads while pedestrians hurried home after another long day.

To everyone around us, it was just another ordinary evening. For me, it felt like the beginning of something new.

Finally, Dax broke the silence. "You believe him?"

I glanced at him. "Derek?"

Dax nodded. "About your brother."

I looked ahead. "I don't know."

That was the truth. Part of me wanted to dismiss it as a desperate lie. Another part desperately wanted it to be true.

Dax folded his arms. "Derek values his life too much to invent something that can easily be verified."

I sighed. "Exactly."

That was what troubled me. If Derek had lied, he would know the consequences. And yet he had spoken with absolute certainty.

"First thing tomorrow," I said, "I want everything you can find on the Hayes family."

Dax nodded immediately. "It'll be done."

We continued walking. The city center was alive with activity despite the late hour. Luxury vehicles passed expensive restaurants. Music drifted from nearby bars. Businessmen discussed deals while couples laughed together beneath glowing streetlights. Everything appeared peaceful. Until a loud argument interrupted the atmosphere.

"Please, give me more time!" The desperate voice came from a narrow street nearby.

Dax and I exchanged a glance. Without speaking, we turned toward the disturbance. A small crowd had gathered around the entrance of an old convenience store. At the center stood an elderly man. His clothes were worn. His hair was mostly gray. His face carried the exhaustion of someone who had suffered far too much. Surrounding him were four large men. Each looked dangerous. Their expensive tattoos and arrogant expressions made it obvious they weren't ordinary debt collectors.

One of them grabbed the old man's shirt. "You're always asking for more time."

The old man's hands trembled. "I swear I'll pay."

"When?" The second man stepped forward. "You've been saying that for months."

"I know." The old man lowered his head. "But business has been bad."

The third man laughed. "That's not our problem."

The elderly man looked close to tears. "Please." His voice cracked. "I've already paid most of it."

The fourth man smirked. "You still owe us two million dollars."

The crowd immediately began whispering. Two million dollars?

I even raised an eyebrow. The old man's eyes widened.

"That's impossible!" His voice suddenly became stronger. "The debt was only five hundred thousand." He pointed at them. "I already paid three hundred and fifty thousand."

The first man slapped his hand away. "We decide how much you owe."

The old man staggered backward. His face filled with disbelief.

"You can't do that."

The second man laughed. "Watch us."

The crowd remained silent. Nobody stepped forward. Nobody wanted trouble. That was how men like these survived. People feared them.

The third man cracked his knuckles. "Maybe you forgot what happened last time."

Fear flashed across the old man's face. The memory clearly haunted him.

The fourth man smiled cruelly. "We nearly beat you to death."

The old man's body trembled. Several people in the crowd looked away. No one wanted to watch. But no one wanted to interfere either.

"Please," the old man begged again. "I just need more time."

The first man shoved him. Hard. The elderly man crashed onto the pavement. Gasps erupted from the crowd. Still nobody moved. I felt my jaw tighten.

Dax noticed. "They're local enforcers."

I looked at him. "You know them?"

Dax nodded. "They work for one of the criminal groups operating in this district."

The old man struggled to stand. Before he could rise, one of the men kicked him in the stomach.

Pain twisted across his face. The crowd winced.

The debt collector laughed. "Look at him."

The others joined in. Pathetic. Cruel. Cowards. Just then—

"Dad!"

A young voice echoed through the street. Everyone turned. A teenage boy came running through the crowd. He couldn't have been older than sixteen. His school uniform was slightly worn. His breathing was heavy from running.

The moment he saw the old man on the ground, panic filled his face. "Dad!"

He rushed forward and dropped to his knees. The old man immediately tried to sit up.

"Run." The words came out weak.

 The boy shook his head. "I'm not leaving you."

The debt collectors burst into laughter.

The first man pointed at the teenager. "Look."

The second man grinned. "The son finally showed up."

The boy glared at them. His hands clenched into fists. "What did you do to my father?"

The third man stepped forward. "What are you going to do about it?"

The teenager remained silent. His eyes burned with anger. But beneath the anger was fear.

The fourth man suddenly grabbed his collar. The crowd gasped.

The old man immediately crawled forward. "No!" He grabbed the man's leg. "Please don't hurt him."

The debt collector kicked him away. The elderly man rolled across the pavement.

"Dad!" The boy struggled.

The man's grip tightened. "You should teach your son some respect."

The old man's eyes filled with tears. "I'll pay."

The words came out desperately. "I'll find the money."

The first man laughed. "Now we're talking."

The second man smiled. "But the debt just increased."

The crowd groaned quietly. Everyone knew this wasn't about money anymore. It was about power. Control. Fear. The old man lowered his head. Defeat filled his expression.

The boy looked helpless. Trapped. Humiliated. Desperate.

Beside me, Dax sighed. "Looks like another long night."

A small smile appeared on my face. I stepped forward. The crowd immediately parted. The debt collectors noticed.

The first man's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

I ignored the question. Instead, I looked at the young boy. Then at his injured father. Finally, my gaze settled on the four men. The smile disappeared from my face. A dangerous silence settled over the street. The crowd instinctively stepped backward.

Even the debt collectors seemed uneasy.

The first man frowned. "What do you want?"

I looked directly into his eyes. Then calmly spoke.

"Let him go."

The four men stared at me. For a moment, nobody moved.

Then the leader laughed. A loud, mocking laugh. Unfortunately for him—

I wasn't joking.