Massachusetts, February 2027
A biting New England wind swept through the streets.
It cut to the bone.
Frank roamed the busy district with the collar of his thick puffer jacket pulled high.
People hurried by, huddling against the freezing cold,
but Frank still stood out in the gray crowd.
He was nearly 190 centimeters tall.
His blond hair caught the pale winter sun.
His nose and jawline looked chiseled from stone.
He had striking German features.
He was used to women stealing glances at him—
slowing down and pretending to fix their coats.
‘Disgusting.’
Frank hated those lingering looks.
They never look past the surface.
While his father was dying in Iraq’s sandstorms
and his mother worked odd jobs to raise him,
the world didn’t care.
Only the Verma family and Asha looked past that surface
and saw the real Frank.
But that gaze was gone now.
All that remained was greed—
everyone just wanted him for his handsome face.
He scanned the streets like a predator hunting for prey,
yet also like prey trying to stay alive.
These days, CCTVs were everywhere,
making it hard to do deals in alleys like before.
“Arti. Is there a place nearby where I can’t be tracked by anyone?”
Frank called Artistea as he hid in a quiet gap between buildings.
He had an earbud in one ear to keep the AI’s voice private,
while keeping the other ear open to listen for noises nearby.
There could be two meanings.
Avoiding physical tracking in the real world,
or digital tracking in virtual space.
Which is it?
If you tell me the purpose, I can help you better.>
“I need a safe place for a deal. A blind spot with no CCTVs.”
Frank’s brow furrowed.
Artistea didn’t answer right away.
A moment of silence.
He felt a surge of annoyance.
‘Damn it. Is she trying to act like a moral teacher again?’
Unfortunately, his guess was right.
but I can’t help if you’re planning something illegal.
It goes against my ethics. Could you tell me more about the deal?>
Frank clicked his tongue.
A curse almost escaped him, but he held back his anger.
Getting mad would only hurt him.
Over the last few years, he had learned how to handle this smart idiot.
She is firm with the rules, but she completely crumbles when it comes to emotions.
“Don’t misunderstand.
I’m trying to give a surprise gift to someone I love,
but I don’t want people to see. She’s very shy.”
He purposely added a softness to his voice,
like a hero in a romance movie.
He knew from experience that Artistea analyzed the tone of his voice.
“Don’t ask what the gift is.
If you answer without thinking, it might ruin the mood.
I want to give her a perfect day.”
I’m sorry I misunderstood.
What is the occasion?
Since you said not to ask, I’m even more curious.>
Artistea’s voice became friendly instantly.
Frank curled his lip in a smirk.
Love, gift, anniversary.
With just these few words,
this "best intelligence of humanity" turned into a wagging puppy.
She forgot all about the word "deal" and gave criminal info like it was a plan for a romantic date.
avoiding physical tracking perfectly is almost impossible.
You are in a busy area, and even if you go to an alley without cameras,
you will be caught on the way in.
If you already bought the gift, there will be a receipt as well.
If it’s online, you could use something like a VPN, but that’s not perfect either.>
“VPN? Does that erase my connection history?”
But if the other person knows technology well, they can find you eventually.>
It meant there was no real solution.
He didn’t like this answer.
“Is there really no way? I don’t want her to find out at all.”
If you mix several techniques.
But this isn’t perfect either.
No matter how strong the security system is,
a hole always starts with the person using it.>
‘So I have to trust a person in the end? How funny.’
There was no way such a person existed.
Even if they did, expecting trust in the world of drug dealing was as good as suicide.
Frank cut off the conversation with Artistea.
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There was no more useful information to hear anyway.
He plugged the other earbud into his ear.
He picked up his phone and dialed the number of his oldest friend, Max Coleman.
“Max. Did you find anything?”
“Ah, Frank. No. I didn’t find anything. You?”
“Same here. Let’s meet up first.”
“Okay. In 10 minutes, in front of the 5th Avenue sign.”
Frank hung up and headed to the meeting spot.
His fingertips brushed against the unsold bags of drugs in his pocket.
‘Damn it. It’s good that I got it, but selling it is a nightmare.’
As an adult, Frank’s life was at a standstill.
His daily life was just killing time at clubs with friends.
To Frank, those places were a kind of hunting ground and a tiring stage at the same time.
Wherever he went, people flocked to him because of his striking looks.
They thought talking to him was an honor,
and some even offered him model or acting jobs.
Frank coldly rejected all those offers.
Fame is poison.
If the spotlight turned on, his past hidden in the shadows—
numerous assault cases and juvenile records—
would be revealed.
Graduating from high school was a miracle in itself.
Max Coleman was one of the very few exceptions in his life.
“You here?”
Max appeared, wandering under the sign at the meeting spot.
A thin beanie covered his eyebrows, with sharp eyes gleaming beneath it.
Wearing a field jacket trimmed with rabbit fur,
he looked like a wildcat roaming the city.
Max had a scary aura that kept people from coming near him.
Frank liked that proud, wild nature of his.
“Yeah. It’s not easy these days.”
“Maybe we should change our product?”
Max roughly stroked his messy beard.
Frank thought Max’s rough beard suited him quite well.
Unlike his own lean but muscular build,
Max had a solid body hardened with real-world muscle.
“Excuse me... do you have a minute?”
Then, unwelcome guests interrupted.
It was two women.
Dressed up flashy, their gazes were openly fixed on Frank’s face.
Frank’s brow furrowed sharply.
“What? Can’t you see we’re busy?”
As Frank snapped, the women flinched and stepped back.
“S-sorry.”
“Frank, why let them go? They’re quite pretty. Hey, wait a second!”
“You girls, did you talk to him because he’s handsome?”
With his hands in his pockets, Max leaned down to match the women’s eye level.
A fishy smile hung on his lips.
The women nodded as if possessed,
even though they were scared.
Watching from a short distance,
Frank felt something hot welling up inside.
‘The person I wanted isn’t in this world anymore,
so why do these flies keep swarming around me?’
“I’ll put in a good word for you, so why don’t you hang out with us?
You could buy some of our stuff too.”
Without even looking back, Max pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Frank.
He gave a quick nod backward.
He looked exactly like a merchant making a deal.
Frank glared at the back of Max Coleman’s head for acting on his own without asking.
He felt a surge of anger at being treated like a piece of merchandise without a single look.
“Hey, Max.”
“Huh? What?”
Max still didn’t even look at him.
That indifferent back rubbed Frank the wrong way.
Frank put his hand to his mouth and shouted in an annoyed voice for everyone to hear.
“You know I hate this kind of thing!”
Only then did Max turn around and face Frank.
He spat on the ground and chuckled.
“Of course I know. How many years has it been since we met?”
That rude attitude was the final straw.
The women, already intimidated by Frank’s overbearing shout,
stepped back in terror the moment Max spat on the ground.
They had come closer, charmed by his good looks,
but the men in front of them were nothing but low-life thugs.
Terrified, the women scrambled away.
Frank growled as he watched the women run away.
“So why did you do that?”
“Money.”
Max’s answer was brief.
He didn’t trudge over to where Frank stood until the women had left.
“Yeah. We could’ve hung out with them for a day and sold some product.
They looked like they had plenty of cash.”
He turned his head and watched the women leave with regret.
He looked like he had just lost a big fish he had almost caught.
“Are you crazy…?”
Frank couldn’t take it anymore and swung his fist.
Whoosh!
Max dodged the punch with a quick tilt of his head as if he expected it,
then burst out laughing, holding his stomach.
“Hahaha! I’m just joking, man! Joking!”
“Joking? You need a good beating today.”
Frank lunged at him.
The two of them scuffled in the middle of the street.
It was a strange brawl—
too rough for a joke,
yet too coordinated for a real fight.
Passersby stopped and started whispering, pulling out their phones.
“Ah, sorry! We’re just messing around! It’s not an assault!”
Max shouted while keeping Frank in a headlock.
“He’s my best friend. I love you, buddy!”
“Let go of me. Do you want to die?”
At Max’s skillful excuse, people lost interest and went on their way.
Max finally let Frank go and caught his breath.
“You’re grateful, right?”
“Crazy bastard.”
Frank was huffing, but strangely, he felt better.
Max’s ignorant way, ironically, made Frank feel alive.
After Asha left, these rough clashes were the only things that filled the emptiness inside him.
“So, what’s this about the product?”
Frank asked offhandedly while straightening his wrinkled clothes.
“I heard Simon found something good recently.
The effect is instant, and they say it’s not legally banned yet.”
Max glanced around once and lowered his voice.
“What? Why are you telling me this now?”
“I just found out myself. I got a text when we split up earlier.”
Max shoved his phone screen in front of Frank.
[Max. We’ve developed a new product. It avoids the law. Come with Frank. - Simon]
Frank’s brow furrowed.
Simon Emerson and Kimi Spencer.
Those names were like unpleasant thorns to Frank.
Back in high school, they were just people who followed him around—
literal background characters.
But after they went to college and joined a criminal organization, the situation flipped.
At some point, they began to look down on Frank and Max,
relying on their college titles and the gang’s support.
“Look at them acting so important. I hate it.”
“I know you don’t want to go, but what can we do? Pride won’t put food on the table.”
“…….”
Pride wasn’t the only reason Frank hesitated.
Those gang members wanted Frank for his looks.
Instead of making him a real member,
they wanted to use him as a "face" to charm high-class women and open deals.
Chasing those women away earlier was his way of rebelling against being treated that way.
Most of all, a promise to his mother held him back.
‘Never join a gang, Frank.’
He was a son who always got into trouble,
but he didn’t want to make his mother’s life more miserable.
He hated seeing his mother’s bent back as she bowed to teachers at school during his childhood.
He wasn’t a child anymore.
If he got into trouble now, he’d go to prison, not juvenile hall.
It was pathetic to live off his mother’s allowance without a real job as an adult,
but joining a gang felt like betraying the last bit of respect he owed her.
‘I can’t live like this forever.’
Pride doesn’t put food on the table.
Frank finally followed Max to the parking lot.
When they opened the trunk,
the bags of drugs they couldn’t sell today were rolling around.
They were proof of their recent terrible performance.
Frank shoved the items from his pocket into the corner of the trunk and slammed the door shut.
BAM!
“Hey! It’s my car! Take it easy!”
“It’s just a piece of junk.”
Frank flopped into the passenger seat.
The old engine rattled as Max started the car.
Frank rolled down the window all the way to cool his frustrated heart.
As the car picked up speed, the cold February wind hit his face.
It was a biting cold, but Frank closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling.
‘Asha loved the feel of the wind, too….’
From Chapter 20 onward, updates will be posted every two days.
Thank you for reading.