Chapter 1: The $800 Anchor

Leo Martinez stared at the crumpled payment slip in his trembling hands, the numbers blurring through exhausted tears. Eight hundred and sixty-seven dollars. Due in three days. Again.

The McDonald's break room felt smaller than usual, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows across his grease-stained uniform. His coworkers chatted about weekend plans while Leo calculated how many shifts he'd need to cover just the interest on his car loan. The math never worked out.

How did I get here?

Six months ago, walking into Sterling Automotive had felt like stepping into his future. The gleaming showroom, the smell of new leather, the promise of finally having something nice for once. The salesman—what was his name? Rick? Rich?—had made it sound so simple.

"You deserve this, Leo. A hardworking guy like you? This car will change your life."

And it had. Just not the way he'd imagined.

The sleek black sedan sat in the parking lot now, mocking him with its pristine paint job and monthly payment that consumed half his income. He'd been so focused on the low down payment and the salesman's promises that he'd barely glanced at the final contract. A mistake that was slowly drowning him.

Leo's phone buzzed. A text from his landlord about next month's rent. His stomach clenched.

He needed help. Real help. Not the kind his manager offered with extra shifts that still wouldn't be enough, or the sympathy from his coworkers who were struggling just as hard. He needed someone who understood how these predators operated.

Someone like Alex Thorne.

---

The coffee shop on Fifth Street was nothing special—worn leather chairs, the constant hiss of the espresso machine, and the kind of ambient noise that made private conversations possible. Leo had chosen a corner table, nervously checking his phone every few seconds.

He'd found Alex through a friend of a friend, someone who'd whispered about "a guy who fixes things the dealerships don't want fixed." The description had been vague, almost mythical. He used to sell cars himself, knows all their tricks. Helps people fight back.

When Alex Thorne walked through the door, Leo almost didn't recognize him from the description. He'd expected someone older, grittier—maybe a former mechanic with oil under his fingernails. Instead, the man approaching his table looked like he'd stepped out of a boardroom.

Tall and lean, with sharp features that suggested both intelligence and ruthlessness, Alex wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that probably cost more than Leo made in a month. His dark hair was immaculately styled, and when he smiled—a slight, knowing expression—Leo caught a glimpse of predatory confidence that made him suddenly grateful they were on the same side.

"Leo Martinez?" Alex extended a hand. His grip was firm, assured. "Alex Thorne. I understand you have a car problem."

Leo nodded, trying not to stammer. "Yes, sir. I... I think I got screwed."

"You think?" Alex settled into the chair across from him with fluid grace. "Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning."

The story poured out—how he'd wanted something reliable to get to work, how the salesman had steered him toward the "perfect car" that was supposedly marked down for a quick sale, how the numbers had seemed reasonable until he got home and really looked at the paperwork.

Alex listened without interruption, his piercing gray eyes never leaving Leo's face. Occasionally he'd nod or make a small sound of acknowledgment, but mostly he just absorbed the information with an intensity that made Leo feel like every detail mattered.

"The payment went up," Leo concluded miserably. "From what we talked about in the showroom to what's on the contract. They said it was because of fees and insurance, but it's like... double what I expected. I can barely make the payments, and I can't afford to get out of it either."

"Show me the contract."

Leo slid the folder across the table with shaking hands. Alex opened it with the careful precision of a surgeon, his eyes scanning the documents with mechanical efficiency.

That's when Leo noticed something strange.

For just a moment, Alex's eyes seemed to... shift. Not the color or shape, but something deeper. Like there were layers of light moving behind them, data flowing at impossible speeds. Leo blinked, sure he was imagining things, but Alex's expression had changed entirely.

Where before there had been professional interest, now there was something else. Something cold and calculating that made Leo's skin prickle with anticipation.

Alex's finger traced a line in the contract, then another. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Leo," Alex said quietly, not looking up from the papers, "what exactly did they tell you about your trade-in?"

"My old Honda? They said it was worth fifteen hundred, but they could only give me a thousand because of the mileage and some minor damage." Leo frowned. "Why?"

Alex's finger stopped on a specific number. When he looked up, there was something almost supernatural in his gaze—like he was seeing through the contract to something hidden beneath.

"Because according to this, they credited you three hundred dollars for your trade-in. Not a thousand. Three hundred."

Leo's blood went cold. "That's... that's not right. They said—"

"I know what they said." Alex's voice carried the edge of winter. "The question is whether they thought you'd be smart enough to catch the discrepancy."

For a moment, the coffee shop seemed to fade around them. Alex stared at the contract with an intensity that bordered on unnatural, and Leo could swear he saw something—a flicker of light, like text scrolling behind the man's eyes.

When Alex blinked, whatever Leo had seen was gone, but the man's entire demeanor had shifted. He was no longer just professionally interested. He was hunting.

"Leo," Alex said, closing the folder with deliberate precision, "they didn't just overcharge you. They committed fraud. Bank fraud, to be specific." He leaned back in his chair, that slight smile returning with predatory satisfaction. "Sterling Automotive just made a very expensive mistake."

"What... what does that mean?"

Alex's smile widened, and for the first time since walking into that dealership six months ago, Leo felt hope stirring in his chest.

"It means, my friend, that we're going to pay them a visit. And when we're done, you're going to drive away in a much better car with no monthly payment at all." Alex stood, straightening his already perfect suit. "But first, I need to make some calculations."

As Alex gathered his things, Leo caught another glimpse of that strange light behind his eyes—like data streaming at impossible speeds, numbers and text flowing in patterns that shouldn't exist.

[System Activated: Anomaly Detected]

The thought came from nowhere, alien and mechanical, and Leo shook his head to clear it. Just his imagination, had to be. But as Alex walked toward the door with the confident stride of a man who'd never lost a fight, Leo couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just witnessed something extraordinary.

Something that was about to make Sterling Automotive very, very sorry they'd ever met Leo Martinez.

The hunt was about to begin.