A cold breeze drifted through the desolate street, biting at my skin as I walked beneath the silver light of the full moon. My shoes tapped softly against the cracked pavement, their rhythm the only sound in the stillness. The city felt hollow, emptied of life, as if even the air held its breath. Most of the shops and restaurants lining the street were dark and shattered, windows boarded or barred. Only a few places remained open a bank with dim lights glowing through frosted glass, a quiet hotel with its lobby bathed in a dull amber glow, and a handful of convenience stores with flickering neon signs buzzing softly.

I pulled my coat tighter, feeling the weight of the cold night settle on me, but I couldn't afford to stop. Not yet.

As I neared the alleyway, I gave a quick glance around. No one. Good. I slipped into the narrow space between two worn buildings, the scent of damp garbage filling my nose as trash bags spilled across the ground like forgotten memories. A few cats pawed through the mess, their glowing eyes catching the moonlight for a second before they darted away at my approach.

At the center of the alley, a tall, rusted fence stood in my path. Chains dangled from the gate, rusted but still intact. I rubbed my hands together to warm them, then grabbed onto the cold metal. With one push, I hauled myself up, my boots scraping against the iron as I climbed over and dropped onto the other side with a soft thud.

The bank was just ahead, only a few paces beyond the alley's mouth. I crouched low, pressing myself against the wall, and took a quick peek around the corner.

The street was still empty. No cars. No voices. Just the steady hum of streetlights buzzing overhead.

Then I saw her.

A blonde, middle-aged woman approached the ATM on the side of the bank, glancing over her shoulder once before pulling out a card. She looked nervous, like someone with too much on her mind and no one to help her carry it. Perfect.

I slipped my hand into my coat pocket and pulled out the small black chip the XOL-Chip. A thin piece of tech, deceptively simple in design but devastatingly effective. Just a touch was all it needed. One tap, and it could extract every bit of data from any object credit card info, IDs, bank details.

I slipped the XOL-Chip onto my fingertip, smooth and weightless, like a second skin. Then, I stepped out of the alley, straightening my posture and smoothing my coat to look more presentable. The woman at the ATM glanced up as I approached, her fingers still resting on the machine, ready to pull out her card.

"Excuse me," I said with a polite smile, keeping my voice low and non-threatening. "I'm a little new to these machines. Do you think you could help me out? I'm having trouble figuring out how to use my card."

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with caution, but I kept my smile intact, just earnest enough to put her at ease. After a brief pause, she gave a small, tired nod.

"Sure. It's pretty simple," she said, her voice carrying the faint hint of weariness. "You just insert the card here... then select the amount or transaction you want to do. The instructions are on the screen."

I leaned in slightly, pretending to be interested, nodding as if I was absorbing every word she said. In truth, I wasn't hearing a thing beyond the soft beep of the ATM as it processed her card.

"Got it," I said once she finished her little walkthrough. Then, I smiled again, keeping it friendly. "Do you mind if I try with mine now? Just to make sure I've got it right."

She glanced at the screen, then back at her card. "I'll just pull mine out real quick"

"Oh, no need!" I cut in, lifting my hand toward the card slot. "I'll get it for you. If you don't mind."

Before she could object, my finger brushed the edge of her card, the XOL-Chip making subtle contact. It took less than a second a soft pulse I felt through the chip, and just like that, the data was mine. My phone buzzed in my coat pocket, the notification confirming the transfer.

"Let's see here..." I muttered, sliding her card out with the care of someone who didn't want to seem suspicious. I inserted my own, withdrew exactly a hundred dollars, and handed her card back with a casual smile.

"Thanks a lot for the help," I said, pocketing the cash. "These machines can be confusing, you know?"

The woman gave a small, half-hearted laugh. "Yeah, I guess. No problem."

I nodded politely and turned on my heel, walking away like someone with no trouble in the world. As I strolled down the empty street, the hundred-dollar bills folded neatly in my pocket, I felt the weight of her data nestled safely on my phone.

Three blocks later, I arrived at my destination a crumbling, abandoned house. Its windows were shattered, and the front door hung loose on rusted hinges. The moonlight bathed the broken structure in a ghostly glow, giving it an eerie stillness that matched the night.

I slipped through the half-open door and into the shadows, the cold air inside thick with dust and silence. This was where I needed to be. For now.

And soon enough, it would all begin.

I stepped into the broken house, the door groaning on its rusted hinges as it swung shut behind me. The air inside was thick with dust, the scent of decay lingering in every corner. Moonlight seeped through the cracked windows, casting jagged shadows across the rotting walls. My steps echoed faintly on the uneven floorboards as I made my way to the far end of the room, where a sagging bookshelf leaned precariously against the wall.

I ran my fingers along the spines of the old books, most of them stained, warped, or half-eaten by time. I stopped at the one I was looking for a small, grimy thing with no title, its cover worn and brittle at the edges. I gripped the spine and gave it a gentle pull.

With a soft click, the book triggered the hidden mechanism, and the bookshelf shuddered slightly before sliding aside with a low scrape. Behind it, the narrow outline of a door was revealed, nearly invisible against the wall.

I stepped through the opening, the wooden door creaking shut behind me. The secret room was cramped, dimly lit by a flickering lamp I kept on the desk. I twisted the knob, and with a soft hum, the light came to life, illuminating the room in a dull amber glow.

Scattered papers and crumpled notes littered the desk calculations, blueprints, plans. A clutter of thoughts all tied together on the corkboard covering the wall. Red strings ran between pinned photos, documents, and names like a spiderweb, connecting every detail I'd painstakingly gathered.

At the center of the board was the blonde woman from earlier tonight. I reached for my red marker, uncapped it, and slashed a bold X across her photograph.

My eyes drifted down to the photo pinned directly beneath hers. There he was the man in the white suit, his smug face frozen behind thick glasses. His well-built frame radiated the same arrogance that had burned itself into my mind that night at the casino.

I clenched my jaw, the marker still tight in my grip. "Sooner or later," I muttered, "I'll make you regret assaulting me." as my mind drifted back to that night, the memory was sharp and unforgiving.

A couple night's earlier at the Starscourge Casino

The VIP room was packed with high-rollers, the air thick with smoke and tension. I sat at the far end of the velvet-draped poker table, chips stacked high in front of me, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. Hand after hand, I'd played them all perfectly reading my opponents like open books, outmaneuvering them with ease.

Starscourge Casino was where fortunes were made or destroyed, and tonight, it was my turn to win big.

Then he showed up.

A man in a crisp white suit slid into the chair across from me. His glasses glinted under the low lights, and his sharp grin oozed arrogance. I kept my expression neutral, but the second he sat down, I knew this wasn't going to be a typical game.

At first, his playstyle seemed reckless even idiotic. He bet high on junk hands, raising on a seven-deuce off-suit. When the flop hit three, four, and queen he pushed more chips into the pot, grinning like he already knew the outcome.

There were no good outs. No chance for a straight. The suits weren't aligned, so no flush was in sight. Yet somehow, the river came down with a perfect five and six, giving him the straight.

At first, I chalked it up to luck. But it kept happening. Hand after hand, he'd pull off absurd plays and win. His style wasn't just odd it was deliberate. Too deliberate.

I watched closely, pretending to focus on my cards, but my eyes flicked between him and the dealer. That's when I noticed it: subtle hand movements, tiny signals exchanged between them. A flick of the dealer's pinky here, a tap of the man's glasses there. They were in sync. A rigged game, playing everyone at the table for fools.

But I wasn't a fool.

I tapped the side of my smartwatch, activating its camera just beneath the cuff of my sleeve. For the next hour, I kept playing and recording, memorizing the signals until the pattern became clear. Every win of his was nothing but a sham.

When the game finally ended, I made my way to the casino owner. A quick conversation and a few choice clips from my watch later, the dealer was fired on the spot, and the man in the white suit was hit with a heavy fine. He was banned from Starscourge, humiliated in front of the VIP crowd. I'd expected him to put up a fight, but he just sneered at me on his way out, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might shatter.

Later that night…

I left the casino with a grin, counting my winnings as I stepped into the cold night air. The streets were quiet, my breath visible in the chill as I stuffed the stack of bills into my coat pocket. Just as I turned the corner, though, I heard footsteps behind me.

They came fast too fast.

Before I could react, three men surrounded me. The one in the middle was the white-suited man, his glasses glinting under the streetlights.

"Well, well," he said, his voice low and menacing. "You think you're clever, huh? Showing that little video to the owner?"

I kept my expression calm, but inside, my mind raced. I needed to play this right. "Look, man... I didn't mean to get you in trouble," I said, lowering my voice to sound desperate. "I just... I really needed the money, okay? My mom's sick. She's got this rare disease, and I'm doing everything I can to keep her alive."

His smug grin faltered for a moment, his brow furrowing as he studied me. He leaned in close, his breath hot and sour against my face. "That so?"

I nodded quickly, making my eyes well up with fake tears. "I swear, I didn't mean any harm. I just need the money to pay for her treatment... Please."

He clicked his tongue, glancing at the other men around him. "Fine. I'll let it go. But just this once."

The next thing I knew, his fist slammed into my gut, hard enough to knock the wind out of me. I staggered back, doubling over in pain, but I didn't cry out. It was exactly what I expected a warning. Nothing more.

As I gasped for air, the white-suited man leaned in again, his voice a venomous whisper. "I hope your mom dies, you fool."

And just like that, he turned on his heel and walked away, his men following close behind.

That was the moment it happened. That was when something inside me shifted.

I straightened up slowly, brushing off the pain like dust on my coat. My heart pounded, but not with fear with resolve. He would regret those words. Every insult. Every hit.

Present day –

I stared at the photograph pinned to my board, the memory of that night burning bright in my mind. My jaw tightened, and I pressed the red marker against his smug face, drawing a slow, deliberate X across it.

"Enjoy your time while you can," I muttered under my breath. "Because soon enough, I'll take everything from you."

I stepped back from the board, my mind already working through the next steps of my plan. The XOL-Chip was just the beginning.

And by the time I was done, there wouldn't be a single cent left in that bastard's name.