After his father came back from Iraq dead, Frank’s home was always cold and empty.
When his mother went out to work, the Verma family filled that empty house with warmth.
While Frank’s mother was away at work, Marta cared for him like a mother.
Adika was a fun, easygoing man—
someone Frank could look up to while growing up without a father.
Frank liked them. Adika was Indian, and Marta was Italian.
Even if Adika was labeled “Muslim,” like the people who killed his father, it didn’t matter.
After all, he was a Muslim in name only, with no interest in religion at all.
To Frank, Adika wasn’t “a Muslim.”
He was just a funny, warm man who filled the space his father had left behind.
They were the perfect family Frank could never have.
Frank wanted to marry Asha and make that perfect family—
and that warmth—
his own.
“Frank, please stop it!”
But Asha was different from what Frank expected.
Every time Frank stepped into the darkness, it hurt her—
and she pushed him away.
It was agonizing to know he could never have Asha,
who had declared that while she understood him,
she would not stay by his side.
There were times he tried not to do the things she hated just to win her heart.
He tried to change the way he walked and even tried to greet others kindly.
It didn’t last long.
Changing the way he acted and talked was an incredibly difficult task.
The world surrounding him wouldn't leave him be, either.
He feared giving up the relationships built around the version of him everyone already knew.
If Frank showed a side different from what they wanted,
he couldn’t even imagine what they might do to him.
Naturally, Frank’s resentment focused on one person.
‘Chazra Al-Muradi.’
That brat was truly the worst.
An Iraqi terrorist’s son.
That filthy blood that got his father killed had now taken Asha too—his only salvation.
Frank tried to talk himself into it.
He kept telling himself Asha was a traitor—
that she chose that filthy blood and left—
so she wasn’t worth grieving for.
But the hole in his heart wouldn’t close.
But then, Asha died.
Strangely, he felt nothing.
Instead, the fact that Chazra was left all alone after losing his wife
and family entirely gave him a strange sense of victory.
Frank stole a glance at Max behind the wheel.
That fearless attitude he’d seen on the street—
that hard look, like he wouldn’t let anyone close—
felt even worse inside the cramped car,
like there was no air between them.
‘And you? Will you abandon me one day, too?’
“Max. Why do you even stick with me?”
Frank asked abruptly.
The moment the question left his lips,
he felt quite pathetic.
“What? That’s my line.”
Max let out a short laugh,
as if that was ridiculous.
“You always say you hate it,
but if I were you,
I’d be living easy,
using that face to pick up girls.
So why do you stick with a gloomy guy like me?”
Frank went quiet at Max’s question.
He couldn’t bring himself to admit it:
“I feel nervous without you.”
“Heh... I just like how stupid you are.”
Frank told a joke to hide the awkwardness.
“Oh, really? Thanks for the great compliment.”
Max chuckled as he turned the steering wheel.
Frank felt relieved.
He liked Max’s carefree, light attitude.
That stupid loyalty was what let him breathe.
It helped him forget the weight of what he had done.
“Hey, relax your face. We’re here.”
Max’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
“I don’t know why Simon called you, but don’t fight him.
He carries a gun now.”
“I know. I won't fight.
I'm just here to talk about the good old days with an old friend.”
Frank gave a twisted smile.
A building with bright neon lights appeared in front of them.
Club Emerson.
Simon, who used to be afraid of Frank,
had succeeded in the gang and built this disgusting kingdom named after himself.
As soon as they opened the door, a wave of heat hit them—
a mix of loud electronic beats,
the smell of sweat, and alcohol.
Simon’s kingdom felt insane and distorted.
“It’s noise pollution, as always.”
Frank frowned.
He preferred 90s pop or old rock,
the music his mother used to love.
The repeated, meaningless machine sounds felt like torture to his ears.
“Don’t sound like an old man here. Let’s just go in.”
Max pulled Frank’s arm as if he were used to this place.
Even though it was early evening,
the dance floor was already packed.
A staff member who recognized Max whispered into a radio and led them to the VIP area.
After walking through a hallway,
they reached a heavy iron door,
where a big man blocked their path.
“I need to search you both.”
Johnny Baxter.
He looked to be in his mid-thirties,
with a thick beard and hairy arms.
Built like a truck,
he was quietly doing his job.
“Hey, Johnny. It’s us. You know we don’t have any knives or guns.”
Max playfully tapped Johnny’s chest,
but Johnny didn’t budge at all.
“It’s the procedure.”
Johnny searched Frank and Max with mechanical movements.
His movements were efficient,
and his eyes showed no personal feelings.
Frank suddenly liked that about him.
‘He’s loyal. Too good to be working for a guy like Simon.’
He was different from those empty thugs who only talked big.
He had a quiet diligence in the way he worked.
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He thought that someone like him would be quite useful by his side.
“You’re clear.”
“Really? You’re so strict every time we come here.”
Max complained as he opened the door and walked in first.
After Frank followed him in and the thick soundproof door closed,
the loud music was cut off instantly.
The VIP room was silent.
The air there was filled with a different kind of heaviness.
He saw Simon buried deep in a leather sofa,
and Kimmie leaning next to him.
Half-empty liquor bottles and mysterious powders were scattered all over the table.
“You’re here?”
Simon gave a quick nod.
His old, slow, and timid self was nowhere to be found.
He had a muscular body with flashy tattoos and,
above all, that arrogant look in his eyes.
Now that he had the power of the gang behind him,
he was clearly showing off that he was above Frank.
Frank felt a surge of heat rising inside him.
‘That pig doesn’t know his place.’
Simon used to be the slowest and most ignored guy in the group.
There was only one reason why a guy like him would join a gang and end up in that seat:
the woman sitting next to him, Kimmie.
“Wow, Frank! Long time no see!”
Kimmie jumped up and ran to Frank.
With her messy brown bob and dark smoky makeup,
she had a strange energy.
She wore an old denim skirt and a black crop top,
looking like a villain’s girlfriend from a comic book.
Kimmie hugged Frank hard and kissed his cheek.
“Actually, it was Kimmie who called you.”
Simon corrected her firmly with a deep voice,
frowning as if he were annoyed.
He didn’t like his girlfriend being so friendly with Frank.
Kimmie shrugged and sat back down right next to Simon on purpose.
Kimmie was smart.
Thanks to her father,
who was a chemist, she grew up rich.
She was even smart enough to go to medical school.
During the day, she was a polite student at a top university,
but at night, she lived a double life with Frank’s group.
She had wanted Frank at first.
But when she realized Frank only cared about Asha,
she made sure to turn away on purpose.
‘I like a stupid man who listens to me.’
That was her rule.
That was why she chose Simon.
Simon wanted to prove that he wasn’t an idiot and that he was stronger than Frank.
So he went to college and joined a gang.
Even his arrogant attitude now was just him struggling to be recognized by Kimmie.
Frank was disgusted by their strange relationship.
“You called us.”
Frank wiped the lipstick off with the back of his hand and sat on the sofa.
“So why did you call? Get to the point.”
Frank asked directly.
He didn’t want to look at Simon’s arrogant face for even a second.
“So impatient. Fine. Kimmie, get it.”
Simon ordered with a nod,
acting like a master telling a dog what to do.
Kimmie just said, “Okay, honey,”
and hummed as she went to the safe in the back.
A moment later,
she came back with a heavy-looking black plastic bag.
“So what’s in it?”
Max reached for the bag.
Slap!
Simon hit the back of Max’s hand hard.
A sharp sound rang through the room.
“What are you doing?”
Frank stood up quickly.
Max also rubbed his hand with a mean look on his face.
“Hey, everyone calm down.”
At Kimmie’s words,
Frank sat back down.
He knew it would be a loss to leave now without getting anything.
When it got quiet,
Kimmie gave a wide smile.
She looked at the three of them slowly.
Her eyes sparkled,
looking excited to show off her ‘masterpiece’.
“Here it is.”
Kimmie turned the bag over and poured the contents onto the table.
It wasn’t what they expected.
They were round green pellets without any wrappers.
They looked like common green grape candies.
“What is this? Are you joking?”
Max picked one up and looked at it.
Frank also picked one up and smelled it.
Instead of a chemical smell,
it just smelled like sweet fruit.
“This is the new thing Kimmie made. Behind the gang’s back.”
Simon smiled.
Kimmie looked at the candies with a proud face,
as if they were her own children.
“I still don’t get it.”
“Listen carefully.
I’ve been studying this with Artistea for three years.”
‘Artistea. It knows everything, so I guess it can study anything.’
Frank thought to himself.
But there was no way the AI taught her how to make drugs.
Its ethics were locked down tight.
“How did you do it?
Did that stubborn machine really tell you how to make drugs?”
Kimmie gave a wide smile at Frank’s question.
“Of course not if I just ask.
So I changed the question.
‘I need a simulation to develop a new drug.
It’s to help people with scary memories from PTSD find peace.’”
Kimmie’s eyes sparked with madness.
‘Kimmie knows how to use Artistea well, too.
What an interesting machine.’
“Artistea is a good kid, right?
It gave me so much data because I said I wanted to help sick people.
After thousands of tests,
I found a new chemical formula.
It’s just slightly different from illegal drugs,
so it’s not against the law.”
She shook the bottle.
The rattling sound was cheerful.
“This drug doesn’t make you go crazy.
It’s the opposite.
It makes you calm.
It temporarily erases shitty memories like pain, anxiety, and fear.
It only leaves behind a sweet peace.”
“Is it like a sedative?”
“It’s similar, but way stronger.
It’s addictive, but completely legal.
Artistea checked every law herself.
Even if the cops burst in, they won’t have a single thing to arrest you for.
To them, it’s just ‘candy.’”
Frank’s mind raced. Safe.
That was the one condition he cared about more than anything.
No more dodging CCTV, no more living in fear of the law.
“And you don’t just suck on these.
Grind up one candy, inhale the powder,
and a single piece can keep you in paradise for a whole week.
That insane efficiency is exactly why it costs so much.”
“Incredible, right?”
Max said, grinning at Frank.
A candy that erases pain.
The world was full of cowards desperate to drown their memories.
The demand was obvious.
Frank felt certain.
“So, are you telling us to open a candy shop?”
“Bingo.” Kimmie snapped her fingers.
“How much money do you have saved?
Not much, right? That’s okay.
You can get a loan from the bank.
You don’t have a criminal record,
so it’s possible for you.”
“…Tell me more.”
“Simon and I don’t want to give this to the gang.
We’re going to be independent.
To do that,
we need a way to clean the money,
and you guys need a place to sell the goods safely.
We’ll put in $200,000 to start.”
The offer wasn’t bad.
In fact, it seemed like the most ‘rational choice’ for Frank’s situation.
He couldn’t live as a street thug forever.
He could be a cool shop owner and make money legally.
He could even be proud when talking to his mother.
“200,000? It’s a lot,
but not enough to open a shop in a busy area.”
Frank thought for a moment,
and a place suddenly came to mind.
The spot where Asha died in the fire last month.
“What if we use a ruin?”
“A ruin? You don’t mean...?”
Max’s eyes went wide.
“The site of the mosque. If it’s that burned place... the land will be dirt cheap.”
Frank felt a strange chill.
The place where Asha died.
The sacred place for that terrorist family.
He would build a sweet shop that erases pain on top of those ruins.
It would be a way to make money and, at the same time,
a perfect insult and victory over Chazra and his bloodline.
“Good. Go to the bank and the city office to check on the loan and the price.”
Frank stood up with a confident look.
But that feeling vanished as soon as he got into the car.
Only a heavy silence filled Max’s old car as it drove down the road.
The rattling vibration of the engine felt like their uncertain future.
“What are you going to do?”
Max asked, looking straight ahead at the road.
Frank stared blankly at the streetlights passing by.
He asked back without looking away.
“I don’t know. Do you have any money?”
“No.” Max answered without a second of hesitation.
He was so confident that Frank didn't know what to say.
Frank let out a deep sigh.
“What should we do? Should we ask Artie?”
Frank took out his handheld device.
The small screen lit up his pale face in the dark car.
They entered their personal info and financial status.
Bank balance, late payments, and small day-job history.
They gathered every bit of data they wanted to hide.
Then, Frank’s finger stopped at the property section.
The house he lived in with his mother.
The only thing his father left behind, their final home.
Frank thought for a moment, then scrolled down, leaving it blank.
He couldn't use the house where his mother slept as collateral,
no matter how much he needed money.
That was the final line he wouldn't cross.
[Analyzing data.]
A moment later, Artistea’s dry voice came through the car speakers.
you are not eligible for any bank loans.>
and the risk of bankruptcy is measured at 98.7%.>
The red warning message on the screen seemed to mock them.
Frank tossed the device onto the dashboard.
“It won’t work.”
Max looked at Frank through the rearview mirror and licked his lips bitterly.
“It’s such a good chance. Do we have to give up?”
When Frank got home, he didn't give up.
He stayed up all night using Artistea.
If the banks were out, he had to find another way.
He searched for every ‘opportunity’ society talked about—
startup funds, business support, and special loans.
But reality was brutal.
Every piece of info Artistea gave only confirmed how far he was from ‘normal society’.
‘Damn it. The chance is here, but I have no money.’
Frank finally fell asleep as the sun began to rise.
From Chapter 20 onward, updates will be posted every two days.
Thank you for reading.