Chapter 3
As Maya helped Uncle Chen stand up from the damp pavement, a small, leather-bound notebook slipped out from the inner pocket of Leo’s discarded blue shirt. It landed face-down in the shallow puddle near the green recycling bin, the dark leather cover water-stained and worn at the edges. Leo noticed the book falling and made a frantic, gasping lunge to grab it, but a swift placement of Maya’s boot on the edge of the cover pinned it securely to the ground. Leo froze, wincing from the lingering pain in his ribs, his face pale with sudden, genuine panic.
"Leave it," Maya said calmly, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at the trapped object. She crouched down, keeping one hand free just in case Leo decided to try another foolish attack, and retrieved the leather book. The pages were thick, handmade paper filled with columns of handwritten numbers, names, and harsh notations in red ink. It was not a personal diary; it was a ledger of debt, coercion, and systematic intimidation operating right beneath the surface of the city's commercial district.
Uncle Chen leaned against the brick wall, catching his breath while watching the exchange with cautious eyes. He recognized the notebook immediately. A dark shadow crossed the old man's wrinkled face, and he muttered a name under his breath: "The Vanguard Group."
Leo spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the pavement, glaring at Maya with pure venom. "You have no idea what you're holding, girl. That book belongs to people who own this entire block. Give it back right now, or you and this old beggar won't survive the week."
Maya stood up slowly, brushing a speck of dirt from her blue utility vest. She did not flinch at the threat. Years of rigorous martial arts training had taught her to assess a threat based on capability, not bluster. Leo was merely a low-level collector, a foot soldier for a much larger, more insidious machine that preyed on the desperate and the elderly. The numbers in the ledger detailed exorbitant interest rates charged on small emergency loans given to street vendors and local shopkeepers, trapping them in endless cycles of debt.
"If these people own the block, why are they sending a coward to kick bowls over?" Maya asked, her voice calm and cutting.
May you like
Leo looked away, unable to meet her gaze, confirming her suspicions. The operation was cowardly, relying on fear and humiliation to keep people compliant. Maya tucked the ledger securely inside the inner pocket of her vest. She turned to Uncle Chen, offering him a steady arm. "Can you walk, Uncle? We need to get you out of this alley before they send backup."
Uncle Chen nodded gratefully, leaning heavily on her support. As they walked out of the dark alley and into the brighter, populated avenue, Leo remained crumpled by the recycling bin, clutching his ribs and realizing his employers would not be pleased.
