Jax paused, studying the earnest look on Silas’s face. The man wasn’t joking.

“Oh?” Jax kept his voice low, his interest piqued. “You have a plan? Let’s hear it.”

Silas didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he locked eyes with Jax, his expression calculating.

“I can tell you, but there has to be something in it for me.”

Jax laughed outright. “You haven’t told me a single thing, and you’re already making demands? Do you think you’re the only person in The Sprawl I can ask?”

Silas didn’t flinch. He fished a crumpled, half-smoked cigarette butt from his pocket and lit it with trembling hands.

He took a single, savoring drag before pinching the cherry out, saving the rest for later.

“I guarantee no one knows the ins and outs better than I do,” Silas said, smoke curling from his nostrils. “Besides, we’re in the same guild now. Who are you going to trust? Me, or some random stranger?”

Jax shrugged, his face a mask of indifference. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re all strangers to me. Choosing you or someone else makes no difference.”

The two men held each other’s gaze. Jax’s eyes remained cold, unreadable.

Finally, Silas sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Fine, you win. But I’m telling you, my method is the only way to stop people from targeting you.”

“I’m listening,” Jax said. “And if your request is reasonable, I might agree to it.”

Jax was testing him. First, to see if this scruffy survivor actually had the connections he claimed. Second, to apply pressure. He refused to look like an easy mark.

Silas hesitated for a moment before leaning in. “Right now, most people in The Sprawl survive by clinging to the major families of Redrock Bastion. If you can attach yourself to one of those factions—become their vassal—no one in The Sprawl will dare touch you.”

He lowered his voice further. “I know a specific family. They’re a heavy hitter inside Redrock Bastion. I have a channel to get you in as one of their vassals.”

Jax fell silent, mulling it over.

After a long pause, he shook his head. “I’m not interested in becoming anyone’s servant. Is there a way to simply cooperate with them? I can pay a tribute in Cores.”

Silas stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you crazy? This is a golden opportunity! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a major family to back you? I’m handing you a lifeline here!”

Jax waved his hand dismissively. “Pass. I’m not looking to sign my life away. I just want a temporary backer to keep the heat off me, not to become a pawn for the rest of my life.”

Silas scrutinized Jax, his mind racing. The way Jax spoke—calm, long-term thinking, unwilling to bow his head—it reeked of ambition. Jax was becoming more of a riddle by the second.

Does he have an even bigger force backing him? Silas wondered. If so, why isn’t he using them?

Thoughts swirled in Silas’s head, but he couldn’t pin down Jax’s background.

“Alright,” Silas conceded. “I can try to negotiate that. But are you sure you won’t reconsider? A major family offers resources, protection, supplies…”

“I don’t need their handouts,” Jax cut him off. “I just need people to think I’m associated with them. That’s it.”

” Sigh. Fine. Give me some time. I’ll see what strings I can pull.”

Jax nodded. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pristine, full cigarette, and tossed it to Silas. “Now, state your price.”

Silas caught the cigarette, his eyes bulging as he inspected it. “Holy… this isn’t cheap! You really must have cleaned up on Cores these last few days.”

“Don’t worry about my business. Just name your terms.”

Silas didn’t smoke the gift. He treated it like a bar of gold, carefully tucking it into a small tin inside his jacket before relighting his nasty little cigarette butt.

He took two puffs, steeling his nerves. “Here’s the thing. I was going to ask for a monthly cut of Cores in exchange for the introduction. But… I’ve changed my mind. I want you to take me with you.”

Jax raised an eyebrow. “Take you with me?”

“Yes! I swear I’ll keep your secrets. Cross my heart, on my life!”

Jax chuckled. In this wasteland, a guarantee on one’s “character” from a guy like Silas was worth less than the dust on his boots.

Seeing Jax’s amusement, Silas flushed. “Cough… don’t look at me like that, man. I’m serious! I genuinely want to follow you. Hell, if you start a guild, let me be your first member. I’ll be your runner, whatever you need.”

Jax waved him off. “Enough. I don’t need an assistant right now. But if I ever do, you’ll be the first person I call.”

Silas beamed, visibly relieved. “Thank you!”

Silas was a survivor, an opportunist to his core. He prided himself on his ability to read people, and Jax read like a winning lottery ticket. He was willing to gamble his time on this mysterious upstart. Even if he lost, he hadn’t really lost anything.

Jax looked toward the large tents of The Guild Hub in the distance. “I’ve got business to attend to. You go do your thing.”

Without waiting for a reply, Jax turned and strode toward the administration center.

Outside the main tent, two soldiers with assault rifles blocked his path.

“State your business.”

“Just here to make an inquiry.” Jax flashed a disarming smile.

The soldiers looked him up and down. Jax was wearing heavy, second-hand leather armor—sturdy, but clearly purchased recently. He had the look of an ‘upstart’—someone who risked their life in the wastes to make quick cash, rather than a ‘silver spoon’ scion from a wealthy family.

The soldiers saw guys like him every day.

“Wait here. I’ll announce you.”

One soldier handed him a clipboard. “Fill this out. Entry fee is one thousand Credits.”

Jax paused, glancing at the form. It was basic: Name, Guild, Mission Location.

He didn’t have loose credits, so he fished out a single Core and handed it over.

Money talked. The moment the Core touched the soldier’s palm, the attitude shifted from hostility to efficiency.

They processed his request quickly and waved him inside.

Stepping into the tent was like walking into another world. The scorching heat of the wasteland vanished, replaced by a wave of refreshing cool air.

Jax glanced around and spotted several large buckets in the corners, filled to the brim with blocks of ice. It was a primitive but effective air conditioning system.

In the center of the spacious tent sat a few desks, but only one was occupied.

A chubby official sat behind the main desk, deep creases on his face from where he’d been napping on his paperwork. He yawned, stretching his jaw wide. “What do you want?”

Jax nodded politely. “Sir, I’d like to ask about renting a plot of land for my guild.”

The fat man blinked, waking up a bit. He squinted at Jax. ” renting land? You look fresh. Haven’t seen you around here before. You make a big score recently?”

Jax chuckled, putting on a humble front. He pulled two Cores from his pocket and slid them across the desk, shielding the motion with his body.

“Just a bit of good luck, sir. Ran into a nest of Sandworms.”

The official’s eyes flicked to the Cores. He gave a satisfied nod, his hand moving like a striking snake to sweep the bribe into his drawer.

“Mmm. Luck is a skill in this world. Alright, speak. Where do you want to rent?”

“Sector 33.”

“Sector 33?”

The fat man’s face twisted in suspicion. “You know people die over there, right? Like, a lot of people. It’s got a reputation. Why the hell would you want that scrap heap?”

“I think it’s my lucky spot,” Jax lied smoothly. “That’s where I got the Cores over the last few days. I figure I’ll double down, try to make enough to retire in comfort.”

The official shrugged. He’d given his warning; if the idiot wanted to die, that was his business.

“Alright then. How long is the lease?”

“What’s the maximum term?”

The fat man paused, looking at Jax like he was insane. “Excuse me? You want a long-term lease on that place?”

“Actually,” Jax smiled, his voice dropping an octave. “If possible, sir… I want to buy it.”