The Heart System

Chapter 733: Chapter 733

The glass doors slid open behind me. Tuck stepped outside and stood beside me with both hands resting on his waist. I held out my cigarette pack and he took one without saying anything.

I flicked my lighter, and he leaned in.

After taking a long drag, he slowly exhaled toward the evening sky.

"Jon," I said. "Is he still running those idiots?"

Tuck shrugged.

"I don’t know."

"Maybe we can talk to him."

Tuck looked at me like I’d lost my mind. "Talk? Like, reason with them?"

"I know Jon. We talked a few times back when he used to stop by here."

"He only came to buy cigarettes."

"Maybe." I shrugged. "Hypothetically, where do you think they’d keep Mel?"

He didn’t answer immediately. "King’s place."

"You think so?"

He nodded. "You remember King, right?"

I took another drag. "Yeah. Jon’s right-hand man."

I dropped my cigarette onto the pavement and crushed it beneath my shoe.

"Okay... okay, yeah. Sure."

"What?"

"I’ve got an idea."

Tuck stared at me. "What?"

"I’ll think of something."

"Evan, what are you talking about?"

"Just wait here."

His eyes widened. "Evan, don’t be an idiot. You can’t go over there."

"I’ll be fine."

"The hell you will." He stepped toward me. "I’m over here trying to tell you my last wishes, and you’re acting like you’re about to play the fucking hero."

I couldn’t help smiling. "Just stay here."

"Evan."

"Be a good boy and wait for Daddy."

His jaw dropped. "Evan, I’ll fucking kill you if you..."

"See you in a bit."

I turned and started walking away.

"EVAN!" he shouted after me. "Do you have a death wish?"

Not exactly.

I just had a system.

⟁ ⟁ ⟁

I pulled the car over along the side of the street and turned off the engine.

The neighborhood hadn’t changed much since the last time I’d been here.

Run-down apartment buildings lined both sides of the road, their cracked walls covered in layers of faded graffiti. Rusted fences surrounded tiny front yards filled with overgrown weeds, while old cars sat parked on the sidewalks with missing bumpers and shattered headlights. Music blasted from somewhere nearby, mixing with the distant barking of dogs and the laughter of people hanging around outside.

Groups of men stood in front of the buildings, smoking cigarettes and passing around cheap beer as if they had nowhere better to be. A couple of kids kicked around a worn-out football in the middle of the street without caring that cars were trying to pass through.

I stepped out, locked the car, and shoved both hands into my pockets.

The click of the locks echoed louder than I expected. Almost immediately, several heads turned in my direction. It wasn’t me they were looking at. It was my car.

An expensive car parked in a neighborhood like this stood out like a diamond buried in a dumpster. More than one person gave me a curious look, while others openly stared as if trying to figure out whether I was lost or just stupid enough to come here alone.

I ignored them.

According to Tuck, King’s, house was at the very end of the street on the left.

My eyes followed the row of buildings until they landed on it.

The house looked no better than the others, but there were enough people outside to make it obvious I’d found the right place. Two men were sitting in the front yard around a barbecue grill, beers in hand while smoke drifted lazily into the afternoon air. One of them laughed at something the other had said before taking another bite of grilled meat.

At least they looked relaxed.

I let out a slow breath.

Hopefully, I could talk my way through this.

The last thing I wanted was to start using my abilities and waste credits.

"Alright," I muttered to myself. "Let’s go."

I walked toward King’s house at a steady pace.

I’d been down this street more than a few times back when I was in college. The bus to the university passed nearby, and every now and then I’d cut through here to save a few minutes. Even back then, everyone knew who lived in this house, which was exactly why most people crossed to the other side of the road before passing it.

As I approached the front yard, the men gathered around the barbecue noticed me. The conversation died down almost immediately.

I stopped on the opposite side of the waist-high chain-link fence and looked at them. "Evening."

One of the men lounging on a worn-out sunbed narrowed his eyes.

"What d’ya want, kid?"

Before I could answer, the front door opened.

Four more men stepped outside, bringing the total to six.

Every single one of them looked like they’d spent half their lives getting into fights. One had a crooked nose that had obviously been broken more than once. Another’s forearms were covered in faded scars and old tattoos. Two of the older men had gray hair and weathered faces that looked closer to seventy than sixty, but neither of them seemed fragile. Even with age catching up to them, they still carried themselves like men who knew how to throw a punch.

I looked at all of them before speaking. "I’m here because your people took someone important to me."

Nobody answered.

"Mel."

I let the name hang in the air.

"Ring any bells?"

One of the elderly men opened his mouth to respond, but a younger man stepped in front of him before he could speak.

He was easily the biggest person in the yard.

Broad shoulders stretched beneath a tight black T-shirt, and thick muscles covered both of his arms. His dark skin was lined with old scars, while a trimmed beard framed a face that carried the permanent expression of someone looking for an excuse to start a fight.

"You’re Tuck’s dog?"

"I’m nobody’s dog." I met his stare without flinching. "I’m his friend."

"We don’t know no Mel." His voice turned cold. "Now get the fuck out."

I let out a slow breath and rubbed the back of my head.

After thinking for a second, I nodded to myself. "Where’s Jon?"

The older man who’d been interrupted earlier finally spoke.

"He overdosed." His tired eyes settled on me. "Were you a friend of his?"

"Of course no, he wasn’t," the younger man cut in before I could answer. "The hell are you asking him for?"

A woman’s voice came from somewhere inside the house.

"Don’t talk to him like that."

I looked back at the elderly man.

"I’m sorry for your loss."

He simply nodded.

"I know the Resistance didn’t really have a problem with Tuck. It was mostly Jon who held that grudge. If Jon’s gone..." I looked around the yard. "Why kidnap Mel?"

Before anyone answered, the front door opened again.

Two young women stepped outside.