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Chapter 9 - Chapter Nine: The Water's Edge

The back room of The Water's Edge bar smelled like stale beer and ambition. Not the kind that shouted. The kind that waited.

Ade sat near the edge of the round table, hands resting lightly on the wood, his body language relaxed but alert. He could feel the hum of the room, the coded rhythm of laughs, glances, and minor boasts. This was his classroom now, and every conversation was a lesson. He wasn't the center of this circle, not yet but he wasn't just watching anymore. He was participating. Quietly. Sharpening. a half-smoked cigarette balanced on an ashtray beside him. 

Dino ran the room that night, not officially, but by tone and rhythm. He told stories with wide hand gestures and half-smirks, and everyone laughed at the right time. Ade kept pace with a glass of whiskey he hadn't touched much. Listening was a better investment.

A few younger guys hovered by the bar. Guys like Richie Velez and Frankie Baldo. Still half in the game, half trying to impress someone enough to get a nickname.

Jason dropped into the seat beside Ade like he owned it. "You're getting a rep, you know."

"That right?"

"Word is, you leaned on Falco and didn't even break a sweat."

Ade shrugged. "I talked. He listened."

"Exactly. That scares people more than a guy throwing punches."

Across the room, a heated debate flared up over a Yankees game. Nothing serious, just the volume of men needing to sound like they mattered. Dino calmed it with a joke about Jeter and a borrowed girlfriend. Everyone laughed again.

Jason lowered his voice. "You're not just here to hang out, are you?"

"Nobody really is."

"You got plans?"

"I got frameworks."

Jason smirked. "You talk like a fucking architect."

Ade took a drag. "I like buildings that don't collapse."

The next morning started with a meeting at Salvatore's social club. Not official. More like a pulse check. Ade walked in to see his uncle flipping through a small notebook, glasses on his nose, coffee untouched.

"You're early," Sal said without looking up.

"You're always early. I figured I'd match you."

Sal nodded, approving. "Matching's a start. Standing out is better."

He gestured to a chair. Ade sat.

"Dino likes you. That counts. Jason too."

"They're solid."

"They're volatile. But they like you, and I trust that. You're different."

Ade didn't respond. He knew better than to fill silence too quickly.

Sal finally looked up. "This found footage thing you and Christopher are talking about. It real?"

"Yeah. Real concept. Minimal budget. Big returns."

"Tony's curious. Doesn't mean he trusts it."

"I don't need trust yet. Just interest."

Sal smiled. "You say that like a guy who's bought stocks."

Ade gave him a look. "What if I have?"

Sal narrowed his eyes, joking but not. "You from the future or something?" He said it with a grin, but his tone held a thread of something more curiosity edged with suspicion. Ade just laughed, playing it off, but there was a flicker in his eyes. For half a second, he wondered what he'd just given away. Nothing, he told himself. Just a good instinct. Just a smart read."

Ade laughed, shaking his head. "If I was, I'd be richer."

"You're doing something right. Don't overplay it."

The advice landed. Ade nodded.

"By the way," Sal added, "if this film thing goes forward, it doesn't interfere with anything else. You get that?"

"Crystal."

"And if Tony wants more from you, be ready. He doesn't test twice."

"I'm already preparing."

Sal watched him a beat longer, then returned to his notes.

Later that week, Ade met with Nico, a bar manager who owed more than he wanted to admit. They talked in the alley, casual but sharp.

"I got the numbers," Nico said, passing a folded slip. "You sure this stays off the books?"

"You stay consistent, I stay invisible."

Nico nodded and disappeared inside.

Ade checked the paper. More bets were coming through. Quiet ones. Underdog wins. Spreads most guys didn't see coming.

The system flickered behind his eyes.

Perk Triggered: Ghost Line – Early read on odds and variables. Minor predictive boost for short-term bets.

The feeling wasn't magic. It was math, memory, and instinct colliding in perfect rhythm.

Back at his apartment, Ade laid everything out on the table. Burner phones, ledgers, payout sheets. The numbers made sense. And they were growing.

Later that night, a call from Jason.

"You good with a wrench?"

"Car or bones?"

"Car."

"I'll figure it out."

"Be at the garage tomorrow. Early. Don't wear anything you like."

Ade smiled. "Copy that."

He hung up and leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling.

He wasn't chasing power blindly. He was building it.

Brick by quiet brick.

Snapshot – Week Seven

Mob Etiquette: 15

Charisma: 16

Street Smarts: 11

Reputation: 20

Manipulation: 16

Combat Awareness: 8

Traits:

Quiet Credibility

Controlled Aggression

Precision Pressure

Foundation

Earner's Instinct

Early Investor

Community Cred

Soft Power

Ghost Mentor

Tactical Patience

Instinctive Threat Response

Ventures:

GhostLine (40%)

The Boxcar (25%)

Studio Project (Recording complete)

Garbage Contract (Planning phase)

Studio Referral: Cassie

Unknown Observer (Status: Tracking)

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