Apocalypse Trade Monopoly
Chapter 67: Playing the Part

Chapter 67: Playing the Part

The streets of Level One pulsed with quiet energy, a controlled hum of life beneath the weight of military order. Even at night, the district never truly slept—just shifted into something slower, more deliberate. Ava walked at an even pace, her hands in her pockets, posture relaxed but aware. She wasn’t running. She wasn’t sneaking. She was acting real.

Lucas’s words echoed in her mind.

"Go in. Have a drink. Talk business. Make it normal."

It should have been simple. But nothing about Angel’s world was simple.

Zero sat tucked between two taller buildings, its neon sign flickering between life and death, casting a dull red glow over the entrance. Not flashy. Not extravagant. A bar for people who did business outside of formal contracts.

Ava pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The scent of old wood, cheap alcohol, and machine oil clung to the air. The place was full, but not crowded—patrons scattered across booths, huddled in hushed conversation. A few heads turned at her entrance, scanning, assessing. Then, just as quickly, they lost interest.

Good.

She spotted Jessica immediately.

The woman sat two booths back, posture loose but eyes sharp. A drink in hand—untouched. Watching. Tracking.

Ava let out a slow breath and forced an easy smirk. "You following me, Feng?"

Jessica took a lazy sip from her glass, voice smooth. "Babysitting, actually. Orders."

Ava feigned a sigh, tilting her head. "And here I thought we were building trust."

Jessica smiled. "We are. I trust you’ll stay exactly where Angel wants you."

Ava didn’t flinch. Instead, she let her smirk widen, shifting just enough to look unbothered. Then, without another word, she turned toward the bar.

The bartender barely glanced at her before setting down a bottle and a glass. "New face. What’s your poison?"

Ava took the bottle, reading the faded label. Cheap. Strong. Good enough. She poured herself a drink and took a slow sip, feeling the burn slide down her throat. Normal. Natural. Just another night.

And then—Ten arrived.

She caught him in the corner of her vision first. Average height, dark jacket, a thin scar cutting through his left brow. He moved without hurry, without tension. Someone who belonged here. Someone who had nothing to prove.

He slid onto the stool beside her, tapping his fingers once against the counter. A silent order. The bartender nodded, pouring him the same drink.

Ava didn’t look at him. Not yet.

Instead, she kept her focus on her own glass, swirling the liquid. Playing it slow.

Then, after a beat—"Lucas sent you."

Ten let out a soft chuckle, lifting his drink. "And here I thought you’d at least let me buy you one before talking business."

Ava finally turned her head, studying him. He was young—mid-twenties, maybe. Sharp eyes, sharper instincts. A trader, but not just a trader.

Lucas didn’t deal with ’just’ anything.

Ava leaned against the counter, lifting a brow. "You need 900 cells."

Ten exhaled through his nose. "Right to it, huh? Yeah, that’s the deal. You got them?"

Ava pulled a small data key from her pocket, tapping it against the counter. "Locked in here. Clean. No tags."

Ten gave a slow nod, reaching into his own pocket and pulling out a small black credit chip. He placed it beside the data key. "900 cells. Full payment. No tricks."

Ava didn’t reach for it immediately. Instead, she turned slightly, just enough to catch Jessica’s reflection in the bar mirror. She was still watching, still listening—but she hadn’t moved.

Good.

She picked up the credit chip, running her thumb over its surface before pocketing it. "Done."

Ten lifted his drink in a silent toast before taking a sip. "Smoothest deal I’ve had all week."

Ava smirked. "That’s because you haven’t dealt with me before."

Ten chuckled. "Fair enough." He set his glass down, lowering his voice slightly. "Lucas told me to pass something along."

Ava’s grip on her drink tightened slightly. "Yeah?"

Ten’s gaze flicked to the side, casual but aware. "He said to tell you that Angel isn’t the only one watching."

Ava’s pulse slowed. Not the only one?

She kept her expression neutral. "That supposed to mean something?"

Ten smirked, standing from his seat. "It means you should watch your back, Zhang."

With that, he grabbed his drink and walked toward the back of the bar, disappearing into the dim lighting.

Ava sat for another minute, running the words through her mind. Then, finally, she downed the rest of her drink and stood.

Jessica’s voice stopped her before she could leave.

"Quick work."

Ava turned, meeting her gaze. "What can I say? I’m efficient."

"Quick work."

Ava stilled, then turned, meeting Jessica’s gaze across the dimly lit bar.

The woman leaned back in her seat, swirling the amber liquid in her glass, studying Ava like a puzzle she hadn’t quite solved yet.

Ava lifted a brow. "Disappointed?"

Jessica smirked, taking a slow sip before setting the glass down. "No, just... surprised. You don’t waste time."

Ava shrugged. "Time is money."

Jessica hummed, unimpressed. "Is that what Lucas teaches you?"

Ava chuckled. "Lucas teaches a lot of things. Some of them even useful."

Jessica’s smirk didn’t fade, but her gaze flickered toward the counter where the credit chip had been a moment ago. Ava had already pocketed it, but Jessica had seen the exchange.

She wasn’t the only one.

A man three seats down—grizzled, scar over his cheek, a merchant by trade but a thief by necessity—gave Ava a knowing nod. Another woman at the far end of the bar, draped in a faded coat with reinforced seams, was already flicking through a holo-screen, likely running a check on the transaction.

Ava exhaled, rubbing her temple. Of course.

Word traveled fast here.

She barely had time to process that thought before another voice broke through.

"You made a sale."

Ava turned her head slightly. A different man had taken Ten’s seat—older, mid-forties, long scars along his knuckles, the kind of wear that came from years of surviving the trade game.

Ava narrowed her eyes. "And you are?"

The man grinned, revealing a gold-capped tooth. "Just a businessman. Name’s Juno. Heard you’re working the circuit."

Ava glanced toward Jessica, expecting her to step in—but the woman just watched, silent and waiting.

So that was how this worked.

Jessica wouldn’t stop her from making deals. But she would watch Ava make them.

Ava turned back to Juno, keeping her expression unreadable. "Depends on what you’re looking for."

Juno exhaled, tapping two fingers against the counter. The bartender immediately poured him a drink. A regular. That meant something.

"You sold Ten 900 standard cells." He took a sip, smacking his lips. "I need something a little more... tailored."

Ava tilted her head. "Go on."

Juno leaned in slightly. "Energy cores. Small batch. No more than a dozen, but they need to be clean. Factory grade, no previous imprint."

Ava raised a brow. "High demand, hard to source. Price goes up fast."

Juno smirked. "Price isn’t an issue. Supply is."

Ava let the words settle. Energy cores weren’t just rare—they were heavily tracked. Even a low-grade one could power small-scale weapons or independent strongholds outside the military’s watch. The fact that Juno needed them clean meant he wasn’t just stockpiling—he was moving them somewhere off-grid.

She drummed her fingers against the counter, thinking.

Lucas could source them. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was how much she could charge before Juno walked away.

Ava exhaled, watching him carefully. "Twelve cores, factory grade, no imprints? That’s high risk. That’s..." She made a quick mental calculation. "Eight hundred credits per unit. Upfront."

Juno let out a low whistle. "Bold. Most traders would ask six hundred."

Ava smirked. "Most traders don’t guarantee a clean delivery."

Juno chuckled, shaking his head. "Fair point. But let’s not pretend this isn’t negotiable."

He leaned in. "Seven hundred, final offer. Take it or I find someone else."

Ava glanced at Jessica again, half-expecting her to step in—but she didn’t.

This was a test.

Fine. Ava could play.

She rolled her shoulders, feigning disinterest. "Deal. But delivery takes three days."

Juno grinned, slamming down a holo-credit chip on the counter. "You’ve got yourself a buyer, Zhang."

Ava pocketed the chip, taking another slow sip of her drink. Two deals in less than an hour. That would get people talking.

Jessica chuckled, swirling the last of her drink before setting the glass down with a deliberate click.

"Angel keeps track of everything."

Ava smirked, shoving her hands into her pockets. "Yeah, figured as much."

Jessica’s eyes flicked to her, assessing. Then—"Including me."

Ava raised a brow. "That supposed to mean something?"

Jessica’s lips curled—not quite a smirk, not quite a frown. Something caught between amusement and bitterness. "It means that whatever you think you’re doing here, don’t get too comfortable. Angel doesn’t just track deals—she tracks people."

Ava studied her for a beat, searching for the real weight behind those words. Jessica didn’t usually talk like this. She was sharp, controlled, always keeping her footing no matter how the conversation shifted.

But now?

Now, there was something off.

Ava took a step closer, lowering her voice. "You saying she’s tracking you, Feng?"

Jessica’s fingers twitched, a barely-there reaction before she forced her usual smirk back into place. "I’m saying she doesn’t let go of what she owns."

Ava stilled. "Owned isn’t the word I’d use."

Jessica exhaled through her nose, tilting her head as if considering something. Then, she leaned in, voice quieter. "You’re playing the game, Zhang. But you’re still on the outside. You don’t know what it’s like being in Angel’s world. Being in her..." She let the word stretch, loaded with something heavier than Ava expected. "...circle."

Ava exhaled, watching Jessica carefully. "That supposed to be a warning?"

Jessica smirked, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "It’s supposed to be a reminder. You think you’re just here to trade, to gather intel, to slip through the cracks like you always do. But Angel? She sees you, Zhang. She’s already decided where you belong. And if you’re not careful, she’ll make sure you stay there."

Ava let the words sink in.

Jessica wasn’t warning her about deals or surveillance.

She was warning her about Angel.

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