Chapter 6: Old John’s Guidance

Volume 1: Fallen from Grace

Summary: Jack meets an old homeless man named John, who sees through his extraordinary past and teaches him how to survive—and thrive—in the underworld using his own strengths.

Chapter 6: Old John's Guidance

In the days that followed, Jack continued working with Marcos at the scrapyard and in the underground tunnels. He tried to adapt to this grim, exhausting life, doing his best not to dwell on the past he had once known. Occasionally, Isabella would appear at the scrapyard, offering Jack a warm smile—small but meaningful, bringing a flicker of warmth into his otherwise bleak existence.

One evening, Jack dragged his exhausted body back to the abandoned warehouse. In the dim light of the corner, he spotted Old John sitting alone, quietly smoking. His silhouette looked even more hunched under the weak glow. Jack rarely saw John by himself; usually, he was surrounded by others, appearing indifferent and lost in thought.

"John," Jack said as he sat beside him, his voice low. "How long have you been here?"

Old John took a deep drag from his cigarette, exhaled a slow ring of smoke, and watched it dissipate into the air. "How long? Time loses meaning here. Ten years? Twenty? Who knows anymore." His voice was rough and worn, carrying the weight of countless storms weathered over time.

"What did you do before?" Jack couldn't help but ask. There was something different about John—an air of wisdom sharpened by hardship.

Old John was silent for a moment before finally answering, "I used to be a lawyer. I defended those greedy bastards on Wall Street."

Jack stared at him in surprise. He hadn't expected John to have any connection to Wall Street. "A lawyer? Then how did you end up like this?"

John let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. "I got involved in things I shouldn't have. Saw too much darkness. One day, I tried to walk away… and they turned on me. My license was revoked. I lost everything."

Jack listened silently, his heart stirred with a mix of emotions. Their stories were eerily similar—both discarded by Wall Street.

"Kid, you're different from them," Old John suddenly said, his tone firm.

Jack looked at him, puzzled. "How so?"

"There's still fire in your eyes," John pointed toward Jack's face. "You haven't given up. You still want to go back."

Jack's heart pounded. He had tried so hard to hide his ambition, yet John saw right through him.

"I'm not ready to accept this life," Jack whispered. "I refuse to believe I'll stay here forever."

John nodded slowly, taking another puff of his cigarette. "Going back won't happen by strength alone. You need brains. You need to be smarter than them."

"How?" Jack asked urgently. He knew John must have insight.

John crushed the cigarette butt under his boot. "You must understand the rules of the game. Find their weaknesses. The people on Wall Street—they look clean and polished on the outside, but underneath, they're nothing but hungry hyenas. One mistake is all it takes to bring them crashing down."

"But I have nothing now," Jack said bitterly. "No money, no connections, not even a decent place to live."

John smiled faintly and gestured around them. "This place is your resource. Look closely—you'll find valuable things everywhere."

Jack glanced around. All he saw were trash and ruins.

"Money isn't everything," John continued. "Information is power. In the underworld, there's a constant flow of secrets. Learn to listen. Learn to tell truth from lies. And most importantly, find what can work in your favor."

John leaned closer, lowering his voice. "And never trust anyone. In this world, the only person you can truly rely on is yourself."

Jack nodded. He knew these words were truth. In this brutal world, relationships were built on interest, betrayal always lurking beneath the surface.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Jack asked. He wanted to repay John for his guidance.

John shook his head. "I don't need anything in return. I just don't want to see someone with potential waste away like the rest."

"If you ever need help, just let me know," Jack said sincerely.

John patted Jack's shoulder and stood up. "Kid, remember what I told you. Wall Street is a giant maze. Only the smartest will find the way out. Good luck."

With that, John walked away into the shadows.

Jack remained seated in the corner, replaying John's words in his mind. He began observing his surroundings more carefully, listening intently to conversations around him. He realized that the underworld was full of hidden information—some were mere gossip, others were whispers of crime.

He started collecting these fragments of knowledge, analyzing them using his financial expertise. He soon recognized that the scrapyard itself was a major hub of intelligence. Every day, mountains of discarded items arrived, some possibly holding valuable clues.

His thoughts drifted to Isabella. She spent her days scavenging here—perhaps she had come across something useful without even realizing it.

The next day, Jack returned to the scrapyard and found Isabella sorting through debris.

"Isabella," he approached her. "Can we talk for a moment?"

She looked up and smiled when she saw him. "Of course. What's on your mind?"

Jack took a deep breath. "I'd like to learn more about this place—from you."

Isabella nodded and motioned for him to sit.

Jack shared the information he had gathered and his analysis. Then he asked if she had noticed anything unusual about the scrapyard.

After listening, Isabella looked at him with admiration. "Jack, you're brilliant. I always knew you were special, but I didn't realize how sharp your mind really is."

She hesitated briefly before continuing. "Actually, I've noticed something strange too. Lately, the amount of trash coming in has increased significantly. A lot of it comes from high-end office buildings—documents, mostly."

"Documents?" Jack's eyes lit up. "What kind?"

"All sorts," Isabella replied. "Financial reports, contracts, legal papers… you name it."

Jack's pulse quickened. He realized these documents might hold the key to uncovering the conspiracy that led to his downfall.

"Would you help me collect some of them?" Jack asked earnestly.

Isabella nodded. "I can try. But they're buried deep within the piles—it's hard to find specific ones."

"That's fine," Jack said. "I'll help you search. Whatever it takes, it's worth it if we can uncover the truth."

From that day forward, Jack and Isabella began their secret operation. Each day, they scoured the scrapyard for documents, hoping to piece together the puzzle. They both knew the path ahead was dangerous and uncertain—but they also knew that persistence would lead them closer to the truth, and ultimately, to redemption.

And Old John's guidance had become a beacon, lighting Jack's way through the darkness. He understood now: his mission wasn't just revenge. It was proof—proof of his value, proof that he could rise again and stand atop Wall Street once more.