Twilight Deal

By the time dusk rolled around, District Five had grown even more tense. News traveled fast: Stonefang was actively searching for a teenage scrap dealer who'd crossed them.

Reid's name likely made it onto a hit list. He spent the afternoon darting between side streets, retrieving his stash of circuit boards from the train yard in small batches. The repeated trips left his wounded side aching, but he managed to avoid detection, stashing the boards in a battered shopping cart borrowed from a junk pile.

Finally, he reached the border between District Five and District Four. Fewer broken windows, slightly better pavement, but still no real sense of security. The Redwood group insisted on meeting in District Three, which was a rung higher. The bus lines connected them, but lugging a squeaky cart onto public transit was too conspicuous. He'd have to walk.

A young man crossing the district lines with a suspicious cart? That was an invitation to get mugged. He tightened his grip on the stun baton hidden in his jacket, the Shattered Gate bracer in the back of his mind. If conflict arose, he prayed it would appear again.

He moved fast, keeping to quieter back roads. Eventually, city blocks transformed into District Three's industrial zone: large warehouses, half of them abandoned or repurposed for shady deals. He followed the directions Jacky gave him—an address near the riverside, with a broken chain-link gate. The place loomed ahead under a sky of purplish twilight.

Ducking through the gap in the fence, Reid eyed the structure. A single overhead lamp flickered, revealing a large metal sliding door, partially open. He couldn't tell if Redwood had arrived yet. The building's windows were either boarded up or shattered. Perfect place for an ambush. Tension gnawed at his gut.

"Calm," he whispered. "Focus." He reminded himself that Redwood had a business reputation. They wouldn't kill him unless he gave them a reason. Then again, you never knew in the underworld.

He pushed the cart inside, scanning the dim interior. Rows of shelves lined the warehouse, many collapsed or rusted. A few overhead bulbs buzzed. At the center, three figures waited, flanked by two silent guards. Jacky was among them, arms crossed, leaning against a pillar. She gave a terse nod at Reid's entrance.

The Redwood representatives were distinct: one tall woman with auburn hair pulled into a tight ponytail, wearing a sleek black coat. Her posture radiated authority. To her left stood a shorter man with tinted glasses, fiddling with a data tablet. On the right, an imposing figure in a hood, face partially hidden. The two armed guards behind them had the Redwood insignia—a stylized red tree—on their jackets.

Reid approached, heart pounding. He parked the cart a few meters away, then took a step back, hands visible to show no threat. The tall woman spoke first, her voice crisp:

"You must be Reid. I'm Marina, Redwood's acquisitions officer. Jacky tells me you have something of value."

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Twelve high-grade circuit boards. Original military surplus or close to it. Should fetch a high price on the black market." He tried to keep his voice steady, though the pain in his side flared, reminding him of the previous scuffle.

Marina's cold gaze flickered to the cart. "Show me."

Reid lifted the cloth covering one of the boards, letting her see the metal surface. Jacky had already verified a sample, so this was mostly a formality. Marina gestured to the man with tinted glasses, who stepped forward. He pulled out a small scanning device, running it over the boards. It beeped, showing readings on the tablet's screen.

"Genuine," the man muttered. "High salvage potential. Could be integrated into advanced weapon systems or reprogrammed for specialized hardware."

Marina's lips curved slightly. "Impressive find for a single teenage scavenger. Might I ask how you acquired them?"

Her tone was casual, but the question carried a hint of distrust. Reid shrugged. "Dug them out of old military crates in the outskirts. The place was barely guarded. Guess nobody else thought to check."

He felt the Redwood people's skepticism, but the specifics likely didn't matter. If Redwood turned on him, he had no recourse. He swallowed. "Anyway, that's the lot. So…are you buying or not?"

Marina exchanged a glance with the hooded figure. Then she turned back to Reid. "We'll buy. But considering the dangers, we can't offer top market rate. Stonefang might come after us if they learn we got these from you. Security has its costs." Her voice was firm, unyielding.

Reid braced himself. "What's the offer?"

She tapped her chin. "In an open market, these boards could go for 120 to 150 credits apiece if sold in small units. We'll take all twelve at a bulk price. Let's say…800 total." She paused, letting that number sink in. "Of course, Redwood can also guarantee Stonefang won't bother you after this."

A flicker of anger and desperation shot through him. 800 credits for 12 boards? That was about 66 credits each, well below even the discounted 75 he'd aimed for originally. But they included "protection," presumably meaning Redwood would strong-arm the Stonefang gang to back off. Part of him wanted to haggle, but he wasn't sure he had the leverage.

Jacky, leaning against the pillar, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She'd warned him Redwood would lowball. That was the cost of hush-hush deals. Still, he recalled his battered body, the near-fatal chase. Maybe 800 was better than a knife in his gut.

Yet a stubborn spark lit in his chest. He'd risked too much. "If that doesn't includes protection from Stonefang, you should pay more. I can't even transport these boards safely across town without risking my life. I'm just one kid. Redwood has resources. I'd have to consider that."

Marina's eyes narrowed fractionally. "You want to negotiate, even though you're the one with no backup, no position, and a gang hunting you?"

Reid clenched his jaw. He felt the Shattered Gate stir faintly, perhaps reacting to the tension. "All I'm saying is 800 might be fine if I didn't have to worry about Stonefang. But you said yourself they might come after Redwood, so it's not a guaranteed protection. Redwood can handle them, sure, but who covers my back if they decide to finish me off for revenge?"

The hooded figure chuckled, stepping forward. A deep, almost raspy voice emerged. "You're bolder than you look, kid. But you have a point." He glanced at Marina. "Perhaps Redwood can do a short-term contract—escort him out of District Five or arrange some safe passage. For an extra fee, of course."

Marina considered, then gave a slight nod. "Alright. 800 credits plus Redwood's word to keep Stonefang off your back. Best we can do is an escort to District Four. Safer than Five, for sure." She paused, her lips thinning. "We could stretch to District Three, but that's…out of your price range, kid. For District Four, with escort, we'll deduct a hundred bills. Net 700. Take it or leave it."

District Four? Barely a step up from Five. Outrage flared in Reid's chest. "District Four? That's practically still the slums! And a hundred credits? That's daylight robbery for an escort across a few blocks!"

Marina simply raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "It's your choice, kid. Risk Stonefang and keep all 800. Or take our offer and live in District Four with 700." Her voice was ice. "Decide."

Reid's fists tightened. He was being squeezed dry. Redwood was playing hardball, and he had no cards to play. But 700 credits… it was still a lifeline. Sleeping on the streets versus a room, even in District Four… There wasn't really a choice.

He forced a nod, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. "Deal."

Marina snapped her fingers. One of the guards stepped forward with a small sealed case. "We pay half now, half once we verify the entire batch is delivered." She eyed the cart. "We'll do the final count, and if it's all good, you get your second half."

Reid's heart pounded. This was it. He was about to unload his single greatest treasure for a fraction of its potential. But that fraction was still enough to change his life.

While that happened, Jacky sidled over, expression still guarded but maybe a touch softer. "You actually sold 'em," she murmured, a hint of surprise in her voice. "Huh. Guess hustling ain't just for the big guys. Still, better than playing pinata for those Stonefang gorillas."

"Yeah," Reid said, letting out a slow breath that was half sigh, half relief. "Definitely." Then, remembering his promise – and honestly, feeling a bit guilty for dragging her into this – he counted out twenty crisp 10-credit bills. "For the bandages," he said, pressing the stack into her hand. "And, you know… for not letting me wander into that Redwood mess alone."

Jacky's eyebrows shot up as she eyed the bills, hand hovering but not quite closing around them yet. "Whoa, hold up a sec, kid." She squinted at the stack, like he'd just pulled a rabbit out of his threadbare sleeve. "Bandages made of spun gold all of a sudden? Last I checked, they were still glorified rags. You know I get a bulk discount, right? Slum-living perk." She finally nudged the money back towards him with a gloved finger.

Reid gently pushed the bills back into her palm. "It's also for the search," he added, his voice quiet but firm.

A flicker crossed Jacky's face then – the light teasing vanished, replaced by something that looked suspiciously like… worry? Or maybe pity, slum cynicism was hard to read sometimes. "Reid, are you sure about this? You finally shook off Stonefang, got some actual credits in your pocket. Rent's calling, good food's waiting…" She trailed off, gesturing around her cluttered store with a sweep of her hand that encompassed shelves groaning with broken dreams and discarded tech. "Five years, kid. Five years of poking around in the dark. Statistically…" She let the rest of the sentence hang unspoken between them, heavy as the musty air in Marvello's Tech. "Maybe… maybe it's time to face facts, huh?"

Reid's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "No." Just that single word, heavy with stubborn resolve, a granite wall against her gentle pragmatism. He pushed the credits back across the counter, his hand lingering for a moment near hers. "Please, Jacky. Just…keep looking. Anything. Any whisper. Any rumor."

She looked at him, her expression softening slightly, a flicker of understanding in her amber depths. She knew his story. Knew how long he'd clung to this fragile hope. She sighed again, a sound of weary resignation, but also something else… a grudging respect maybe? "It's your money, kid. Your wish." She swept the bills into her hand, not meeting his eyes, a small, almost imperceptible nod acknowledging his unwavering determination. "I'll…I'll ask around. Again."

Reid nodded once, a small, almost imperceptible movement, a silent promise hanging in the air between them. "Thank you, Jacky."