The air in the warehouse district hung heavy, thick with the smell of rust, oil, and decay. Dim yellow streetlights cast long shadows on the cracked pavement as Ethan and Lila navigated the maze of industrial alleys. Every sound—a distant dog bark, the crunch of gravel underfoot—felt amplified in the eerie quiet.
Victor's poker club was deep in the heart of the district, tucked inside an abandoned textile factory. The faded sign reading Dawson's Textiles Co. swung lazily in the breeze, its rusted hinges creaking. A faint hum of life emanated from within—low laughter, clinking glasses, and the muffled notes of a piano tune.
Ethan glanced at Lila, who had stopped just short of the entrance. Her sharp eyes scanned the building for any sign of danger.
"You alright?" Ethan asked softly.
"I'm fine," she replied, though her clenched fists betrayed her nerves.
"We don't have to go in unprepared," Ethan said. "We could stake it out, try to—"
Lila shook her head. "No. The longer we wait, the more likely we lose any chance of finding Victor. We go in now."
Ethan nodded, though he couldn't ignore the growing knot in his stomach.
At the door, a hulking man stood guard, his arms crossed over a chest as solid as a brick wall. Tattoos snaked up his neck and disappeared under his leather jacket. He looked down at Ethan and Lila with a disdainful glare.
"Password," he barked.
Lila didn't falter. "We're here to see Victor," she said coolly.
The guard narrowed his eyes. "Victor doesn't take random visitors. You got five seconds to turn around."
Lila met his gaze unflinchingly. "Tell him it's about Mr. Gray."
The guard's expression darkened at the name, his jaw tightening. He hesitated, then motioned for them to stay put as he disappeared inside.
Ethan leaned closer to Lila. "Are you sure about this? Dropping Gray's name might've just painted a target on our backs."
"Victor knows Gray doesn't tolerate loose ends," Lila whispered. "That's why he'll see us. If we're bold enough to use that name, we're either crazy or desperate. Either way, he'll want to know why."
Minutes later, the guard returned, jerking his head toward the door. "Inside. Don't cause trouble."
The interior was dimly lit, the air thick with cigarette smoke. Makeshift poker tables dotted the floor, surrounded by men in rumpled suits and leather jackets. Cash and chips exchanged hands rapidly as players grumbled or laughed at their fortunes.
A sense of danger hung in the air, an unspoken rule that violence could erupt at any moment if someone crossed a line.
Victor sat at a large table in the back, a small entourage flanking him. He was an imposing man, his tailored suit a sharp contrast to the gritty surroundings. His hair was slicked back, and a gold chain glinted against his crisp white shirt. He leaned back in his chair, watching Ethan and Lila approach with an amused smirk.
"Well, well," Victor drawled, his voice smooth but laced with menace. "Who do we have here? You must be brave or stupid to throw around Mr. Gray's name like that."
"We're here for answers," Lila said, standing her ground. "You used to work for him. We need to know what you know."
Victor chuckled, a low, chilling sound. "Do you now? And why should I care?"
"Because it's about the truth," Lila pressed. "About what really happened to me. I know you were involved, but you weren't the one pulling the strings. Mr. Gray was."
Victor's smirk faltered slightly, and his eyes flicked to his men. He waved a hand, dismissing them. "Give us a minute," he ordered. The entourage hesitated but eventually moved to a corner of the room, giving them some space.
Victor leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "You've got guts, sweetheart, I'll give you that. But guts won't get you far in this game."
"I'm not playing a game," Lila said firmly. "I just want the truth."
Victor studied her for a moment, then sighed. "Fine. I'll tell you what I know. But if Gray finds out I helped you, we're both dead. Understood?"
Lila nodded.
Victor explained how Mr. Gray operated from the shadows, using puppets like Richard to carry out his plans. Richard had been the face of the operation when Lila was framed, but every decision had come from Gray himself.
"Gray doesn't leave trails," Victor said. "He doesn't meet people directly, and he doesn't trust anyone. Even his cleanup guy, Hollis, only gets orders through intermediaries."
"Hollis?" Ethan asked.
Victor nodded. "Hollis is Gray's fixer. If something goes wrong, he's the one who cleans it up. If you want dirt on Gray, Hollis is your best shot."
"Where can we find him?" Lila asked.
Victor hesitated, then scribbled an address on a napkin. "Last I heard, he was running a storage facility on the outskirts of town. Be careful, though. Hollis doesn't play nice. If he thinks you're onto him, you won't make it out alive."
Lila took the napkin, her hands trembling slightly. "Thank you."
Victor's smirk returned. "Don't thank me yet. If you're smart, you'll drop this now and disappear. But something tells me you're not the disappearing type."
As they left the poker club, the cold night air hit them like a wave. Ethan glanced at Lila, who was staring at the napkin in her hand.
"You alright?" he asked.
She nodded. "It's a lead. It's more than I had yesterday."
Ethan placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "We'll figure this out. One step at a time."
A soft chime echoed in Ethan's mind.
[Ding! New Task: Protect Lila as she pursues the truth. Reward: Tactical awareness +1.]
He ignored the notification, focusing instead on the woman beside him. The weight of their mission felt heavier than ever, but Ethan was determined not to let it crush them.
As they walked back to the car, the city seemed darker, its shadows deeper. Somewhere out there, Hollis was waiting, and with him, the next piece of the puzzle.