The Collector’s Game

The name "The Collector" lingered in Noah's mind like a shadow he couldn't shake.

Daniel Ross hadn't just vanished—he had been taken.

And now, someone wanted to make sure Noah stopped looking.

Too bad for them.

He wasn't stopping.

---

A Warning in Blood

Noah walked through the school hallways the next day, tension clinging to his skin. Everything felt different.

The usual whispers about his fights had changed.

Now, the way people looked at him wasn't just admiration or fear.

It was caution.

Like they knew something he didn't.

He was halfway to class when he noticed it.

His locker was open.

Noah stopped, eyes narrowing. He was sure he had locked it before leaving yesterday.

Slowly, he stepped forward.

Inside, sitting neatly on top of his books—

Was a single playing card.

The Ace of Spades.

And smeared across the center—

A streak of fresh blood.

Noah's pulse spiked.

This wasn't a prank.

It was a message.

A warning.

His fingers twitched. He had seen things like this before—back when stronger fighters wanted to scare weaker ones out of a match. But this?

This wasn't about a fight.

This was about silencing him.

His grip tightened around the card.

Whoever left this was making a mistake.

If they thought fear would stop him—

They didn't know Noah Carter.

---

Evelyn Breaks Down

He found Evelyn in the empty rooftop garden, sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees.

She looked smaller today. More fragile.

Noah held out the card. "I found this in my locker."

Evelyn flinched. Her face went pale.

Noah frowned. "You know what it means."

She swallowed hard, her fingers digging into her sleeves. "It's a calling card." Her voice shook. "The Collector's."

Noah's grip on the card tightened. "So they want me to stop digging."

Evelyn laughed bitterly. "No. If they wanted you to stop, they wouldn't warn you. They'd just make you disappear."

Silence.

Noah's chest felt tight.

This wasn't just about Daniel anymore.

Whoever The Collector was—they were watching.

Waiting.

Evelyn's hands trembled. "Noah… maybe we should stop."

Noah's eyes snapped to hers.

"You really think I'm going to stop now?"

Her expression cracked. "You don't understand." Her voice was raw. "You don't know what they're capable of."

Noah inhaled sharply. "Then tell me."

Her lips parted—then hesitated.

And then, finally—

"I saw them take him."

Noah's heart stopped.

"What?"

Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut. "I was there that night. After Daniel's fight." She shuddered. "I was supposed to meet him after… but I was late. When I got there, I saw them dragging him into a black car."

Noah felt ice in his veins. "Who?"

Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Men in masks."

Noah clenched his fists. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Evelyn looked away. "Because I was scared."

Noah exhaled sharply. So was he.

But fear didn't change the truth.

Daniel hadn't lost his fight.

He had been taken.

And Noah was going to find out why.

---

The Underground's Secret

That night, Noah found himself back in the underground arena.

The neon lights, the bloodstained floors, the roaring crowd—it all felt different now.

Like the violence was just a distraction from something much darker.

Xander was waiting for him, leaning against the back wall, arms crossed.

"You shouldn't be here," he said flatly.

Noah tossed the blood-streaked card at him.

Xander caught it, raised an eyebrow, then sighed. "Well. That's not good."

Noah's jaw clenched. "Who is The Collector?"

Xander twirled the card between his fingers. "A rumor. A ghost. Someone who picks up the pieces when fighters break." He met Noah's eyes. "And someone you don't want attention from."

Noah's breath was slow. Controlled. "Where do I find them?"

Xander studied him for a long moment.

Then, finally, he exhaled.

"You don't," he said. "They find you."

Noah's stomach twisted.

That meant—

He was already in their sights.

---

A Name in the Dark

The fights went on around them—screams, cheers, bodies hitting the floor.

But Noah wasn't watching.

He was waiting.

And then—

Someone slid into the seat beside him.

A hooded figure. Their face mostly hidden.

Noah stiffened.

The air changed.

The noise of the arena seemed to fade into the background, distant and meaningless.

Then—

A voice.

Smooth. Amused.

"You've been asking the wrong questions, Noah Carter."

Noah turned, locking eyes with the stranger.

His instincts flared—warning him.

This person was dangerous.

The hooded figure smirked. "You want to find The Collector?" Their fingers drummed against the table. "Then let me give you a hint."

They leaned closer.

Their next words sent ice down Noah's spine.

"You've already met him."

Noah's breath caught.

The hooded figure stood.

"One last thing," they murmured, tilting their head. "Don't trust the people closest to you."

And then—

They were gone.

Noah sat there, unmoving, his mind racing.

The Collector wasn't just some faceless entity.

They were someone in his world.

Someone he already knew.

His blood ran cold.

Everything he thought he understood—

Had just shattered.

---