Chapter 6: Into the Underworld (0x06ITU)

The rain’s coming down hard, turning the streets of Seattle into a slick, shining maze of reflections and shadows. It’s the kind of night where decent folks stay inside, locked up tight with their families, away from the dangers that lurk in the dark. But I’m not decent, and tonight, I’m not staying inside.

The Rolin system’s been buzzing in the back of my mind since I left the apartment, like an itch I can’t scratch. The mission it’s assigned me this time is different, bigger, and I can feel it in my bones. There’s a heaviness to it, a sense of danger that’s almost palpable.

*Mission Objective: Infiltrate the underground auction. Secure the data chip. Target: High-priority. Reward: 800 Essence.*

An auction. Black market, no doubt. The kind of place where you can buy anything from stolen tech to human lives, if you know the right people. And tonight, I’m about to walk right into the middle of it.

I pull my hood up, shielding my face from the rain as I make my way down an alley that smells like piss and garbage. It’s dark, the only light coming from the occasional flickering streetlamp or the distant glow of a neon sign. I’ve been here before—these back alleys, these forgotten corners of the city. But tonight, it feels different. More dangerous. More alive.

The Rolin system’s guiding me, each step bringing me closer to my destination. I don’t know what’s waiting for me there, but I’ve learned to trust it. It hasn’t steered me wrong yet, and tonight, I need all the help I can get.

I reach the end of the alley and spot the entrance—a nondescript door, half-hidden behind a stack of crates. There’s no sign, no guard, nothing to indicate what lies beyond. But I know this is the place. I can feel it.

I take a deep breath, pushing down the nerves, the doubts. I’ve made it this far, and there’s no turning back now.

Inside, the air is thick with smoke and the low hum of conversation. The place is packed, a sea of shadowy figures all mingling under the dim light of hanging bulbs. There’s a stage at the far end, where a man in a suit is speaking in hushed tones, his voice carrying over the crowd.

I keep my head down, moving through the throng of people, my eyes scanning for any sign of the auction or the chip I’m supposed to secure. The Rolin system hums again, a soft reminder of the mission at hand.

*Target: 30 meters ahead. Approach with caution.*

"Thirty meters," I mutter under my breath, making my way through the crowd. My heart’s pounding, the adrenaline already kicking in. This is it. My chance to prove myself, to take another step deeper into this world. But as I get closer, I realize I’m not the only one interested in the target.

There’s a group of men, all dressed in dark clothing, standing around a table at the edge of the room. They’re big, muscular, the kind of guys who don’t take kindly to strangers poking around in their business. And sitting on the table, in a sleek black case, is what I’m here for—the data chip.

*Objective updated: Secure the chip without being detected.*

"Great," I whisper to myself. "No pressure."

I’m trying to figure out how to get close without drawing attention when I feel a hand on my shoulder. My first instinct is to bolt, but before I can react, a voice murmurs in my ear.

"Easy there, friend. You’re gonna want to play it cool if you want to get out of here in one piece."

I turn my head slightly, catching a glimpse of the guy who’s grabbed me. He’s a bit shorter than me, wiry, with a smirk that’s both disarming and dangerous. His clothes are a bit too clean for this place, and his eyes have a sharpness that tells me he’s not just another thug.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask, keeping my voice low.

"Lyle," he says casually, releasing my shoulder and stepping in front of me. "And you must be the poor sap who’s here for the chip."

I narrow my eyes at him. "How do you know that?"

Lyle chuckles, glancing around as if he’s considering the best escape route. "Let’s just say I’ve got my ways. And right now, my ways are telling me you’re in over your head."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I mutter, trying to gauge his angle. "What do you want?"

"Me?" He grins, leaning in closer. "I want the same thing you do. That chip. But unlike you, I’m not planning on getting my ass kicked trying to take it from those guys."

I glance back at the table, at the men surrounding it. They’re deep in conversation, their eyes scanning the room every few seconds. They’re professionals, no doubt about it. And here I am, just some guy with a system in his head, thinking I can waltz in and take what I want.

"You’ve got a plan, then?" I ask, keeping my tone skeptical.

Lyle’s grin widens. "As a matter of fact, I do. But it’s gonna cost you."

"Of course it is," I sigh. "What’s your price?"

"Protection," he says simply. "You help me get out of here with that chip, and I’ll help you with whatever it is you’re mixed up in. Believe me, you’re gonna need someone who knows their way around the underworld. And I’m your guy."

I hesitate, weighing my options. Lyle’s right—I’m out of my depth here, and the last thing I need is to get caught with my pants down. But trusting him? That’s another story. Then again, what choice do I have?

"Alright," I say finally. "Deal."

"Smart man," Lyle says with a wink. "Now, follow my lead, and try not to look so damn nervous."

He starts moving toward the table, his stride confident, his posture relaxed. I follow a step behind, my mind racing with a thousand scenarios of how this could go wrong.

As we approach the table, the men glance up, their eyes narrowing as they take us in. Lyle doesn’t miss a beat, flashing them a grin that’s all charm and no substance.

"Evening, gentlemen," he says smoothly, his voice light. "Just here to make a little trade, if you don’t mind."

One of the men, the biggest of the bunch, steps forward, crossing his arms over his chest. "We don’t know you," he says, his voice a low growl. "Who the hell do you think you are, walking in here like you own the place?"

Lyle’s grin never falters. "Just a friend of a friend. No need to get all worked up. We’re all here for the same thing, right?"

The big guy glares at him, then at me, and I can feel the tension rising, the air getting thick with it. My heart’s pounding in my ears, but I keep my face neutral, trying to copy Lyle’s calm.

"We don’t do trades with strangers," the big guy says finally, his hand resting on his belt, where I’m sure there’s a weapon tucked away.

"That’s a shame," Lyle says, his tone still easy. "Because we’ve got something you might find… interesting."

He reaches into his jacket, and for a split second, I think he’s about to pull a gun. But instead, he pulls out a small USB drive, holding it up between his fingers.

The big guy’s eyes narrow. "What’s that?"

"Something your boss might like to see," Lyle says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But only if we get that chip in return."

The big guy hesitates, his eyes flicking between the drive and the chip on the table. Finally, he gives a curt nod. "Stay here. I’ll get the boss."

As he walks away, Lyle turns to me, his grin widening. "See? Piece of cake."

"What the hell is on that drive?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Lyle winks. "Nothing. It’s a bluff. But they don’t know that, do they?"

Before I can respond, the big guy returns, followed by another man—shorter, older, with a scar running down the side of his face. This is the boss, no doubt about it. His eyes are cold, calculating, as he sizes us up.

"So," he says, his voice raspy. "You want the chip?"

"That’s right," Lyle says, all confidence. "And in return, you get what’s on this drive. Fair trade, wouldn’t you say?"

The boss’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think we’re about to get thrown out—or worse. But then he nods, a slow, deliberate movement.

"Alright," he says. "Deal."

Lyle hands over the drive, and the boss motions for one of his men to grab the chip. My heart’s in my throat as the exchange is made, the chip placed in Lyle’s hand like it’s nothing.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Lyle says, his grin never wavering.

The boss just nods, his eyes still cold, still watching us like we’re prey. "Get out of here. And don’t come back."

We don’t need to be told twice. Lyle pockets the chip, and we turn to leave, moving quickly but not too quickly—like we’re trying to get out without looking like we’re running for our lives. My heart’s still pounding, adrenaline coursing through my veins as we make our way back through the crowded room, toward the exit.

Once we’re outside, the cool night air hits me, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. We’re safe. For now, at least.

Lyle’s still grinning like he’s just pulled off the heist of the century, and maybe he has. "Not bad for a night’s work, huh?" he says, tossing the chip in the air and catching it with a flourish.

"Yeah," I mutter, trying to calm my racing heart. "Not bad."

But there’s something else, something lurking at the edge of my thoughts that I can’t shake. This was too easy. Too smooth. And that boss… the way he looked at us, like he knew something we didn’t. It’s unsettling.

"We should get out of here," I say, glancing around the darkened street. "Before they change their minds."

Lyle nods, tucking the chip safely into his jacket. "Agreed. But first, we need to talk about my payment."

"Protection," I say, remembering our deal. "You’ve got it. But I need to know what’s on that chip. Why it’s so important."

Lyle raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Curious, are we? Can’t say I blame you. But we’ll get to that. First, let’s find a place where we can lay low for a bit. I’ve got a feeling things are about to get a lot more complicated."

He starts walking, and I follow, my mind spinning with a thousand questions. This is just the beginning, I know that much. And whatever’s on that chip, it’s going to pull us deeper into the underworld than either of us might be ready for.

As we walk, I catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye—movement, a shadow that seems out of place. I stop, turning to look, but there’s nothing there. Just the rain-soaked street and the distant hum of the city.

"Something wrong?" Lyle asks, noticing my hesitation.

"Probably just my nerves," I say, shaking my head. But the unease doesn’t go away. If anything, it deepens. There’s something coming, something I can’t see yet, but I can feel it. Like the calm before a storm.

"Let’s keep moving," I say, falling into step beside Lyle. "We need to get off the streets."

Lyle nods, his grin fading slightly as he picks up the pace. "Agreed. There’s a place not far from here. Safe. We can lay low, figure out our next move."

We continue in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. The chip feels like a lead weight in my mind, its significance growing with every step we take. This mission was a success, sure, but it’s left me with more questions than answers.

And as we disappear into the night, I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve just crossed a line, one we won’t be able to come back from.

---

In the shadows of a nearby alley, the gang leader who had been watching them at the auction steps out, a phone pressed to his ear. His eyes are cold, calculating, as he watches Jamie and Lyle disappear into the night.

"They’ve got the chip," he says into the phone, his voice low and steady. "Just like you said they would."

There’s a pause, then a voice responds on the other end, smooth and controlled. "Good. Keep an eye on them. This is just the beginning."

The gang leader nods, though there’s no one to see it. "Understood. I’ll report back when I have more."

He ends the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket, and turns to leave the alley, blending into the night like he was never there. The game is just starting, and the pieces are all in place.

The Broker smiles as he listens to the report, his fingers drumming against the polished surface of his desk. Everything is proceeding as planned. And soon, Jamie will be right where he wants him—caught in the mouse trap, with no way out.

"Let’s see how you handle this, Jamie," The Broker murmurs to himself, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "The stakes are about to get a lot higher."