CHAPTER 43: CHAPTER 43

The seventy dollars from the pawn shop was a victory, but it was a very small one. It felt like trying to put out a massive house fire with just a cup of water. The pressure was still there, a constant, heavy weight on Ace’s shoulders. He knew it was only a matter of time before his next crisis arrived. Unfortunately, he didn’t have to wait long

The burner phone from Ramos buzzed on the workbench, vibrating against the cheap wood like an angry insect. The screen lit up with a new message. It contained just an address and a time: a place called The Gilded Cage at 11 PM.

Reading this Ace’s stomach tightened. He was familiar with the place. It wasn’t a fancy club, no matter what the name suggested. It was one of Ramos’s gambling dens, tucked away in the basement of a forgotten office building. It was the kind of place where desperate men lost their money and often lost their tempers as well.

Evelyn looked up from her laptop with a worried expression. "Is this about another job?" she asked.

"It looks like it," Ace replied in a calm, steady voice. "The message is about The Gilded Cage. Ramos says he wants me to examine their financial records because he’s found a problem with the numbers."

Evelyn gave a short, sarcastic laugh that held no real humor. "A problem with the numbers? In a gambling den? I find that very hard to believe. This situation seems dangerous, Ace. Why would he send you into a place like that by yourself, late at night? It seems like this could be a trap."

Ace knew Evelyn was probably correct. He remembered his first tense meeting with Ramos and how the man was always testing people’s loyalty. "Everything he does is a test," Ace said as he put the phone in his pocket. "I just have to prove myself and pass this one."

"You have to make sure you get out safely," Evelyn corrected him, her tone now deadly serious. "You cannot trust anyone inside that building. You should especially not trust the financial records they decide to show you."

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Ace stepped into the Gilded Cage, and it was exactly as he had pictured it. The windowless room had a low ceiling that was hazy with cigar smoke. The air was filled with the tense energy of people desperately trying to win back their losses. The carpet was stained, and the card tables were covered with green fabric that had become threadbare because so many people had used it over time. Everywhere, he heard the constant clatter of gambling chips and the low, anxious murmur of conversations.

A large, muscular man with a deep scowl stood guard by a heavy, reinforced door, his eyes constantly moving across the room. He gave Ace a long, unwelcoming stare as he entered.

Ace spotted Marcus leaning against a wall near a small, cluttered office in the back. Marcus clearly did not want to be there. He simply jerked his head toward the office door and said, "He’s in there. The account books are on the desk. The manager is named Kovac. Don’t waste his time."

The office was even smaller than Harkin’s at the docks. A large, bald man with a thick neck who Ace assumed was Kovac, he was sitting behind the desk counting a huge stack of cash. He didn’t bother to look up. "You must be the accountant Ramos sent," he said. "The ledgers are right there. They cover the last three months. Do not touch the money, and don’t ask me any stupid questions." He sounded bored, but Ace noticed a flicker of something else in his eyes. Was it nervousness, or perhaps annoyance?

Ace sat down and opened the ledgers. They were newer than the ones at the docks, but they contained the same columns of numbers: bets placed, house wins, money paid out, and final profit. The figures were just a blur at first. He took a slow, deep breath to concentrate and then engaged his neural-interface.

A familiar, sharp pain shot through his temples, and his vision suddenly became incredibly sharp and tinged with blue. The numbers on the page transformed from scribbled ink into clear streams of data. In his mind, the cold, efficient system began its analysis.

ANALYSIS INITIATED

SCANNING LEDGER: "GC_OPERATIONS_Q3"

CROSS-REFERENCING WITH DAILY CASH-INTAKE SLIPS (DESK DRAWER)

DISCREPANCY DETECTED: DAY 17

LEDGER ENTRY: NET LOSS - $2,400

CASH SLIP: NET GAIN - $8,100

VARIANCE: $10,500

PATTERN RECOGNITION: SIMILAR VARIANCES FOUND ON DAY 11 ($9,200), DAY 24 ($11,000)...

TOTAL WEEKLY LOSS (AVG): ~$10,000

SOURCE: FALSIFIED LEDGER ENTRIES. HANDWRITING & DIGITAL LOGIN MATCH: MANAGER - L. KOVAC

Ace’s blood ran cold. It was obvious. Kovac was stealing from Ramos, and he wasn’t even being careful about it. This wasn’t a small, hidden leak; it was a huge, gushing pipe. Anyone could have discovered this. So why was he, Ace, specifically sent to find it?

Then he saw the next alert on his screen. The system had found something else.

SECONDARY ANOMALY DETECTED

LEDGER MODIFICATION LOG: ENTRY FOR "DAY 17" ALTERED 48 HOURS AGO.

MODIFICATION USER: "NEW_USER_01"

SECURITY FOOTAGE (SYSTEM OVERRIDE): USER "NEW_USER_01" LOGIN CREDENTIALS ASSIGNED TO TEMPORARY CLEARANCE HOLDER: A. (ACE)

CONCLUSION: EVIDENCE HAS BEEN PLANTED. ORIGINAL LEDGER ENTRY SHOWED A PROFIT. CURRENT ENTRY FRAMES USER "A" FOR THE THEFT.

It was a trap. A beautifully laid trap. They’d created a fake problem, made it laughably easy to find, and then planted digital breadcrumbs that led right back to him. He’d walk out of here thinking he’d done his job, and a day later, Marcus would be at the workshop door with proof that Ace was the thief. In their world, that was a death sentence.

His heart was hammering against his ribs. He could feel Kovac’s eyes watching him, waiting, and he could almost taste the man’s anticipation. Ace kept his face a neutral mask, but his mind was racing. He knew that denying the accusation would be useless because the fake evidence against him was too convincing. His only choice was to play along, but to change the game entirely.

A desperate and dangerous idea came to him. He focused on the ledger in front of him, specifically the entry for Day 17. To escape this trap, he needed to alter the digital log that showed he had made the change. He couldn’t simply type on the computer, as that would be seen, so he knew he needed to be smarter.

He focused inward on the new power humming under his skin, the nanites. They were designed to fix physical things, but he wondered if they could interface with technology. He pictured them not repairing a broken wire, but gently encouraging a specific one to disconnect for just a second. That would be long enough to cause a tiny power flicker in the office’s computer system, a flicker that would corrupt the most recent data cache and erase the log of the fake login.

It was a huge risk. He had no idea if it would work, or if it would cause the whole system to crash and draw even more attention. He poured his will into the command, directing the invisible swarm of nanites toward the computer tower under Kovac’s desk. In his mind, he imagined them swarming a specific connection and generating a microscopic surge of energy.

A faint warmth spread down his arm. At the same moment, the computer monitor on the desk flickered and the lightbulb overhead dimmed for a half-second before buzzing back to full brightness.

"Must be a power surge," Kovac muttered, scowling at his screen as he tapped a few keys. "There’s cheap wiring in this whole damn building."

Ace held his breath. It was time to act. Silently, he commanded his mind to engage with the system: Neural-Interface: Engage. He forced his entire focus back onto the digital logs.

SYSTEM REBOOT DETECTED. CACHE CORRUPTED.

MODIFICATION LOG FOR "DAY 17" ENTRY: UNABLE TO LOAD USER DATA. FLAGGED AS CORRUPT.

ORIGINAL LEDGER DATA REMAINS INTACT. DISCREPANCY CONFIRMED: MANAGER - L. KOVAC.

It had worked. The fake digital evidence he was supposed to find had been erased, turned into meaningless computer code. But the real evidence of Kovac’s theft was still right there in the ledger, completely obvious for anyone to see.

He finally let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. He looked up from the ledger and met Kovac’s gaze. The manager was trying to look bored, but a sheen of sweat had appeared on his bald head.

"I found the error," Ace said, his voice remaining calm. He pointed to an entry for Day 17. "You’re missing ten thousand dollars right here. And again on Day 11, and on Day 24." He let the weight of those numbers fill the silent room. "The math is simple. Someone has been stealing money from the profits, and they weren’t even careful enough to hide it well."

He didn’t need to say who was responsible. The unspoken accusation was clear to everyone. He had successfully sprung the trap back on the person who set it.

Kovac’s face went from pale to a deep red. "You little—" he snarled, beginning to push himself up from his chair.

Just then, the office door opened. Marcus stood in the doorway, his expression was unreadable. He had clearly heard everything. His cold eyes moved from Ace’s calm expression to Kovac’s panicked one.

"Is there a problem?" Marcus asked, his voice a low rumble.

"The accounting records have a problem," Ace said as he stood up. He kept his eyes on Marcus, ignoring Kovac. "A very big one. I’ve written down all the details for you." He slid his notebook across the desk toward Marcus. "My work here is done."

Marcus picked up the notebook and quickly scanned the figures. He didn’t look surprised at all. Instead, he looked thoughtful. He shot a glance at Kovac, who had sunk back into his chair and looked like he might be sick.

"Get out," Marcus said to Ace, his voice low and threatening.

Ace didn’t need to be told twice. He walked out of the office, through the tense and silent gambling den, and finally out into the cool night air. His hands were shaking. He felt like he had just walked a tightrope over a tank full of sharks.

As he turned the corner, putting distance between himself and The Gilded Cage, a new sensation washed over him. It wasn’t a blue screen. It was a shift in his hearing. The night wasn’t silent anymore. He could hear the faint rustle of a newspaper from a doorstep two blocks away. He could pick out the individual notes of a song playing from a car stereo four streets over. Most importantly, he could filter all of it out and focus solely on the sound of his own heartbeat, which was slowly returning to its normal, steady rhythm.

SYSTEM REWARD: STEALTH OPERATION SUCCESSFUL.

AUDIO ENHANCEMENT LEVEL 2 UNLOCKED.

FILTER/AMPLIFICATION PROTOCOLS ENGAGED.

He had passed the test. He had survived the trap. And he had gained a new edge. He could hear the world in a whole new way. But as he listened to the distant sounds of the city, all he could wonder was what new danger that sharp hearing would soon pick up.