Morning peeled itself slowly over Haidan City, gray and heavy, like a tired eye blinking open after a nightmare.
Inside his battered apartment, Jackim sat by the window, a coffee cup untouched in his hands.
The cheap plastic clock on the wall ticked in irritating bursts, but he didn't move to silence it.
His mind was elsewhere — spiraling between the attack, the locket, and the raw, inescapable truth: he was being hunted.
Date: March 18, 2025 — Location: Jackim's Apartment — Time: 9:42 AM — Weather: Cold, overcast, occasional drizzle.
Jackim wore a simple outfit: faded black jeans, a gray hoodie with frayed sleeves, and worn sneakers, the soles barely hanging on.
His figure — tall but wiry, hardened from years of living on the edges — seemed smaller now, hunched, cautious.
His skin, a fair olive tone, was paler than usual; his dark, slightly messy hair clung damply to his forehead.
Faint purple bruises blossomed along his left cheekbone and ribs, hidden beneath the hoodie.
He was a portrait of silent defiance — broken but not bent.
---
Meanwhile, on the other side of Haidan, the true game was taking shape.
Location: Café du Ciel, Central District — Time: 10:07 AM — Weather: Drizzling rain tapping softly on the café's glass roof.
Susan sat by the large window, radiating a kind of beauty that didn't belong to normal people.
She wore a white cashmere coat today, soft and rich, paired with high-heeled boots.
Her skin was flawless porcelain, lips a soft blush pink, hair cascading down her shoulders in rich caramel waves.
Even the way she stirred her coffee — slow, languid — seemed choreographed.
Around her, businessmen and officials sneaked glances, pretending not to notice.
She was 22, the reigning social queen of Haidan City — daughter of a powerful family tangled in politics, commerce, and darker roots.
But her beauty was a mask.
Underneath the glamor, Susan was ice and iron, ambition wrapped in velvet.
Across from her sat Nathan Crowe — looking every inch the rugged bad-boy, twirling a spoon lazily between his fingers.
"He's alive," Nathan said, flashing her a mocking smile.
Susan's lips curved up faintly.
"Good," she said. "Fear tastes sweeter when it's fermented."
Nathan leaned back, arms spread over the booth's backrest.
"And if he fights back?"
Susan stirred her coffee once, twice, then set the spoon down.
"Then he becomes interesting."
---
Location: Haidan City Side Streets — Time: 10:41 AM — Weather: Light rain, low visibility.
Jackim pulled his hoodie tighter as he moved through the streets, the cold drizzle soaking into the fabric.
He needed answers.
And there was only one place — and one person — crazy enough to help him now.
Jason Carter, 27, information broker, low-level scum in Haidan's vast underbelly.
Jason wasn't trustworthy. Hell, he wasn't even sober half the time.
But he knew things.
And Jackim was desperate enough to pay the price.
---
Location: The Rusty Anchor Bar — East Slums — Time: 11:12 AM — Weather: Heavy rain beginning.
The bar reeked of old beer, sweat, and despair.
Broken neon lights buzzed overhead.
A jukebox in the corner wheezed out a dying country song.
Jason sat at the bar, hunched over a whiskey glass, looking like someone who had once been handsome before life decided otherwise.
He wore a stained bomber jacket, ripped jeans, and battered boots.
Dirty blond hair tangled under a backwards cap.
His skin, once tanned, now looked yellowish under the bar lights.
Eyes bloodshot. Hands twitching.
Flaws? Plenty.
Jason was a coward. A rat. A man who could never look guilt in the eye.
But information was his currency.
When Jackim slid onto the stool next to him, Jason didn't even look up.
"You're late," he muttered.
"I wasn't invited," Jackim replied dryly.
Jason chuckled hoarsely, then sipped his drink.
"Word is," Jason said, voice low, "you pissed off someone you shouldn't have."
Jackim stayed silent, letting the truth hang.
Jason wiped his mouth, leaned closer, breath stinking of booze.
"Susan Lorrence," he whispered. "You're dancing on her board now, kid."
Jackim's stomach twisted, though he kept his face blank.
He knew of Susan — who didn't?
But he had no idea why she would even know he existed.
Jason slid a crumpled napkin across the bar.
A single word scrawled in messy ink:
"Locket."
Jackim froze.
How the hell did Jason know about the locket?
Before he could ask, Jason stood suddenly, dropping a few bills on the counter.
"Advice?" Jason said, slapping Jackim's shoulder roughly.
"Run. Or die slow."
He left without looking back, leaving Jackim sitting alone, the napkin burning a hole through his thoughts.
---
Location: Haidan City Rooftops — Time: 12:03 PM — Weather: Torrential rain now, thunder rumbling in distance.
Above it all, unseen, Susan watched through the rain-smeared windows of her black SUV.
She smiled faintly, lipstick perfect.
The storm was only beginning.
And Jackim was already drowning.
---