Volume 6: The Flame of Vengeance
Synopsis: Jack has uncovered crucial evidence against Richard's criminal empire and begins meticulously planning his revenge. He not only intends to reclaim everything that was taken from him but also to send every betrayer and tormentor straight into hell.
Chapter 10: Old John's Advice
Jack sat in the car for a long time, watching as the lights inside the SEC building flickered out one by one like scattered stars fading into the night. Only then did he slowly turn the key in the ignition of the rented black sedan. The low growl of the engine sounded like a suppressed roar—heralding an approaching storm.
Richard's downfall was just the beginning - the first step toward toppling something far greater. Jack knew all too well that the true puppet masters were far more cunning and dangerous than Richard. They lurked in the abyss like unseen beasts, ready to devour anyone careless enough to stumble into their domain.
He needed to be smarter, more cautious. Every move had to be calculated. This game of vengeance required patience, precision, and strategy. He couldn't afford a single misstep.
He drove aimlessly through the neon-lit streets of New York, his shadow stretching and shrinking under the glow of passing signs. His mind raced between past memories and present realities, until without thinking, he found himself pulling up outside a familiar little bar—"Friends Bar." It had been one of the few shelters he'd known during his days as a homeless man.
Inside, the scent of tobacco, cheap beer, and faint sweat greeted him like an old memory. Dim lighting cast a nostalgic haze over the place. A few regulars sat at the counter, murmuring about life or grumbling about the economy. Behind the bar stood John, the old bartender whose eyes had seen decades of joy, sorrow, ambition, and ruin. He wiped glasses with slow, deliberate movements—as if performing a sacred ritual. When he saw Jack, a warm smile spread across his weathered face.
"Jack! My old friend, you finally remembered this old man!" John set down the glass and approached, studying Jack with sharp, knowing eyes. "Look at you—completely transformed! That tailored suit, those shiny shoes… must've cost me three months' salary. Tell me, have you finally struck it rich?"
Jack smiled faintly and took a seat at the bar. "John, give me a whiskey on the rocks. Same as always."
John poured the drink with practiced ease, sliding it across the counter. "So, what have you been up to lately? You look better—not so haunted as before. Got yourself a decent job? Back in high society again?"
Jack took a sip, letting the bitter warmth slide down his throat—cool iron wrapped in fire. It brought both comfort and weight. "Something like that, John. I'm dealing with some… personal matters."
John was no fool. He could sense the tension behind Jack's words. Narrowing his eyes, he studied Jack carefully. "Personal matters? Don't take me for a fool, son. You don't dress up like this unless there's trouble. Come on, tell me. Did someone mess with you? Need an old friend's help?"
Jack exhaled deeply. There was no point in hiding anything from John. Slowly, he told him everything—the betrayal, the fall from grace, the years spent living on the streets, and now, his plan for revenge.
John listened in silence, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the counter. The noise of the bar seemed to fade into the background, swallowed by his contemplation. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice low and raspy.
"Jack, what you're doing—it's righteous. Men like Richard deserve justice. But listen to me—you need to be careful. Revenge is a double-edged sword. It can bring satisfaction, yes—but it can also consume you, drag you into the same darkness you're trying to escape. And your enemies are not simple men. They're powerful, ruthless, capable of anything. Right now, you're like an ant trying to topple a giant tree. One wrong move, and you'll be crushed without even realizing it."
Jack nodded solemnly. "I know, John. I understand the risks. I know how dangerous they are. But I can't let them go. They destroyed my life. Took everything from me. I have to make them pay. I have to see justice done."
John sighed again, shaking his head. His eyes were filled with concern. "I'm not telling you to give up, Jack. I know you're not the kind to walk away. But you have to play smart. Don't charge headfirst into battle—that's how you get killed fast. These people fear exposure most of all. They can buy off judges, bury scandals, manipulate laws—but they can't control public opinion. If you can expose them, make the world see who they really are, they'll become hunted, feared, hated. That's how you win."
Jack frowned. He had thought of that before—using media to reveal Richard's crimes. But he lacked solid proof, and the power behind them was vast and tangled. Truth could be buried. People could be silenced. Even he could be erased.
John saw the doubt in Jack's eyes and chuckled softly. "You're rushing, Jack. Trying to eat the whole cake in one bite. Remember—Rome wasn't built in a day. Neither was ice formed overnight. You have to be patient. Gather evidence, piece by piece.find your breakthrough. Water wears stone, remember? Keep pushing, and eventually, the truth will break through."
Jack looked at him, uncertain. "Then what should I do now? I feel lost. I don't know where to start."
John took a slow sip of his drink, rolling the bitterness around his tongue before answering. "First, find an ally. Someone you can trust completely. Someone who will fight beside you when the time comes. Going alone won't work in a war like this. You need someone to strategize with, to share the burden, maybe even to take a bullet for you."
Jack thought of Kevin—his closest friend, his right-hand man. They'd grown up together, brothers in all but blood. Kevin had risked everything to help him. But was that enough?
"Second," John continued, "you must learn to hide. Conceal your true intentions. Don't let your enemies suspect what you're doing. Be like a snake in the shadows—silent, unseen, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Make them think you've given up. Let them lower their guard. Then—strike hard."
Jack nodded. He understood. He had to disappear again—not physically, but strategically. He had to vanish from their radar, observe from the dark, and wait for the right opening.
"And finally," John said, locking eyes with Jack, "stay calm. Stay rational. Don't let hatred cloud your judgment. Revenge isn't about destruction—it's about reclaiming what's yours. It's about finding peace, not drowning in pain forever. Never lose sight of that."
Jack gazed at John with deep gratitude. These words were more valuable than gold. John wasn't just a bartender—he was a mentor, a beacon in the darkness. "Thank you, John. Your advice means a lot to me. I won't forget it."
"You don't have to thank me, Jack," John replied with a warm smile, patting Jack's shoulder. "I just want you to succeed. To reclaim what's yours. To leave the past behind and build a new future. Remember—life is like a cocktail. Only after tasting all its flavors—bitter whiskey, sweet syrup, sour lemon—can you truly appreciate its richness."
Jack raised his glass in a silent toast to the old man before finishing his drink. He knew the path ahead would be full of thorns, but he wouldn't turn back. He would follow John's advice—step by step, move by move—until his revenge was complete, and those who had hurt him were cast into the hell they deserved.
As he stepped out of the bar into the cool night air, the wind brushed against his face, sharpening his senses. He looked up at the sky, where stars blinked like guiding lights. Taking a deep breath, he buried his rage and resolve deep within.
The real battle was just beginning.
And soon, the sins hidden in the dark would have nowhere left to run.