All Chapters of THE HIDDEN RIVAL: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

RIVAL’S POVThe chip sat in my palm like a splinter of bad luck.Small. Smooth. Black as oil.It didn’t look like much — not worth a fight, not worth bleeding for — but I’d learned the hard way that it’s always the smallest things that can ruin you.I shut the door to my bunk, slid the lock, and sat on the lower frame. My ribs still throbbed from Ruth’s knee and from throwing Thomas around like a rag doll, but pain could wait. This couldn’t.Shadow had drilled me on tech once, years back. Not my specialty — I was better with fists than wires — but I remembered enough to know how to start.I pulled the small scanner I’d stashed under my mattress. It wasn’t high-end, but it could read and decrypt most black-market data chips. The second the chip touched the reader, the scanner lit up — and then made a sound I’d never heard from it before.A low, sharp beep. Repeating.Not a data load.A ping.My stomach went cold.This wasn’t just storage. It was broadcasting.I yanked the chip out, but

RIVAL’S POV The chip felt heavier than it should in my palm. Smooth edges, faint metallic scent — like it was holding its breath, waiting to scream again. Thomas’s warning echoed in my head: You can’t destroy it. That sounded like a challenge. I dropped to one knee beside a busted crate, pulled my knife, and set the chip on the flat of the blade. The steel vibrated faintly, like it was alive. “Rival, seriously—” Thomas started. “Shut up.” I brought the hilt down hard. A sharp ping rang out, but the thing didn’t crack — it just bounced, rolled once, and came to rest like it was mocking me. My teeth clenched. I hated tech that thought it was smarter than me. I tried again, twisting the blade this time, forcing the edge into the seam I could barely feel. Nothing. Thomas was fidgeting, eyes darting toward the door. “You’re wasting time. They’ll—” “Finish that sentence,” I warned, “and I’ll carve your tongue out.” His mouth snapped shut. The air in here was thick with dust, b

RIVAL’S POVFresh air hit my lungs like a punch I didn’t see coming.It wasn’t clean — not by any sane person’s standards — but compared to the recycled metal-and-sweat stench of the base, it might as well have been mountain air. My chest expanded, my shoulders loosened without me meaning to.Thomas stopped beside me, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes. “God… air shouldn’t feel this good.”I knew what he meant. We’d spent years breathing only what they allowed us — filtered, stale, never free. Out here, even with the faint reek of gasoline and hot asphalt, it felt alive.But the second the gate clanged shut behind us in my head, reality tightened its grip.The street ahead stretched into Vegas like a beast with its mouth open — neon signs flickering even though the sun was still setting, buildings stacked like they were competing for sky, alleys dark enough to hide anything.Freedom? Sure. But freedom’s just another word for now you’re on your own.“We can’t stand here,” I mutt

The next day, I woke up with a tiring yawn I mean after the load I carried yesterday, I was kind of tired...the loan shop guy told us that our work was just to go take money from debtors and also customer who didn't pay there money yet.... Then as we were about to go cause he said we could start today, yesterday was for I structions and stuff, when we made to go Thomas saw guys that delivered goods they were offloading it...and of course since Thomas doesn't know how to mind his God-damned bu siness he volunteered as a good boy, he is making me look bad I wanted to just stay at the side and watch him offload a truck of goods...the idoit couldn't even lift the box up...he was shaking like a fowl. ugh now his gonna ask for my help...."hey...um rival can you please help, me I thought the box was light". he said grinning at me. "well it's not too late to tell him that you can't lift the box". "And disgrace myself no thank you...rival please" he said pouting like a kid, ugh

RIVAL’S POVVega didn’t waste time. The second we dropped the first roll of cash on his counter, he handed over the next address like we were delivery drivers with no choice in our route.Thomas took it without even looking at me. Big mistake.“You’re up,” I said, already grinning.His head snapped around. “Wait—what, c'mon but I said you can have the week, pretty please?”“Your turn. We’re alternating, remember?”“I don’t recall agreeing to—”“You laughed at me back there,” I cut in. “Rules of the street: you laugh, you fight.”He opened his mouth to argue, but Vega was watching us, smirking like he’d just been handed front-row seats to a brawl. Thomas sighed through his teeth and shoved the address in his pocket.“Fine. But if this guy’s some ex-boxer, I’m blaming you.”The address took us into the west blocks — fewer pawn shops, more liquor stores, and sidewalks sticky with things you didn’t want to identify. The building was an old two-story brick, paint peeling, windows barred.T