A shadow on the sun

Chapter 4

The clouds were starting to block out the sun by the time Cain got back to his apartment, frustration and exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. The streets were not nearly as noisy as usual, the loud hum of the city subdued under the blanket of anger on Cain's mind. A cold wind swept through the alleyways, biting at his exposed skin and rustling the discarded papers that littered the ground.

Entering his cramped, dingy room, Cain moved quickly, ignoring the mess on the floor as he headed straight for the corner where a battered duffle bag lay half-hidden beneath a pile of worn clothes. He knelt down, unzipping the bag to reveal neatly stacked bundles of cash. This was his emergency fund, painstakingly accumulated over years of brutal fights and scraped-together earnings. It wasn't a fortune, but it was substantial enough to get him what he needed—or so he hoped.

Cain began stuffing more money into the bag, his movements brisk and methodical. He knew exactly where he needed to go next, and who he needed to see. If anyone could find Alex, it would be the Lume Cartel. They had eyes and ears everywhere, their influence seeping into every corner of the city's underbelly. Dealing with them was dangerous, but Cain was past caring. His need for retribution overshadowed any caution or fear.

With the duffle bag packed and slung over his shoulder, Cain exited his apartment once more, disappearing into the labyrinthine streets like a ghost.

The Lume Cartel's headquarters loomed ahead, an imposing structure nestled discreetly among abandoned warehouses by the waterfront. From the outside, it looked like just another decaying building, its brick facade weathered and unassuming. But beneath the surface, it pulsed with illicit activity and concealed power.

As Cain approached the entrance, two towering figures emerged from the shadows, blocking his path. Both men were built like mountains, muscles straining against their tailored suits. Their faces were stern and impassive, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses despite the lack of sunlight.

Bruisers. he thought, unsurprised. Like him, people who had and could use energy, but just didnt have an special powers.

"State your business," the one on the left grunted, his hand casually resting on the holster at his hip.

Cain met their gazes steadily, his voice cold and even. "I'm here to see Miss. Oswald. I have information to trade."

The second guard snorted, his lips curling into a disdainful sneer. "You and a hundred other lowlifes. Beat it."

Before they could make any further moves, Cain calmly swung the duffle bag off his shoulder, unzipping it just enough to reveal the stacks of cash inside. The dull yellow light from the sun behind the clouds glinted off the bills, casting a tempting glow.

The guards exchanged a quick glance, their stances relaxing slightly. The first one's mouth twitched into a semblance of a smile. "Why didn't you start with that? Follow me."

Of course...  As dumb as a bruiser can be, show them money and they drop all the barking.  

He led Cain through a heavy metal door into a dimly lit hallway that smelled of cigar smoke and expensive liquor. The interior was a stark contrast to the exterior facade—plush carpets muffled their footsteps, and ornate light fixtures cast warm, luxurious light across dark wood paneling and tasteful artwork that lined the walls.

They walked past several closed doors, muffled voices and laughter seeping through the gaps. The air was thick with an undercurrent of danger and opulence, a mere glimpse of the Cartel's wealth and reach.

Finally, they reached a set of double doors at the end of the corridor. The guard knocked twice before pushing them open and gesturing for Cain to enter alone.