ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇɴ

MBN-9

Outside 🍃

Qui POV

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The chill in the night air hit Qui like a slap across the face, but it couldn't shake the heat building in his chest. 

He stepped out of the trap house, his mind still buzzing from the meeting. K3's words echoed like gunshots in his brain—Leon and Oblock weren't just taking cheap shots, they were making moves that hit too close to home. 

Worse, there was a rat in their crew, and that betrayal cut deeper than any enemy could.

He slid his hands into his pockets, trying to steady himself. The tension in the streets tonight felt thicker than usual, like the city was holding its breath. Qui walked to his car, every step heavy with thought. 

He'd seen gang wars before, knew how dirty they could get, but this? A rat? That was something else entirely. It wasn't just business anymore; it was personal.

As he got in and slammed the door shut, the quiet of the street seemed to press in on him. The car hummed to life, its low rumble adding to the silence around him. He stared at the dark street ahead, gripping the wheel tighter. 

Tomorrow's fake drop had to go off without a hitch. If anyone slipped up, if the rat showed their face, it was all over. But until then, he needed to keep his head on straight. Every move, every word, every look—he'd have to watch it all. The walls were closing in, and Qui could feel it.

His phone buzzed from the center console, pulling him from his thoughts. It was K3 again. Qui swiped the screen, bringing the phone to his ear as he eased onto the freeway.

"Yo," he answered, his voice low, controlled.

"Yo," K3 said, his tone tight. "We need to pick up the pace. Leon's boys hit another spot tonight."

"Where?" Qui's grip on the wheel tightened.

"Minor drop, but it's the same pattern. Clean hits. They know too much."

"Shit," Qui muttered, feeling the weight of the situation crash down on him. "They tryna bleed us out slow, huh? Testing the water."

"Exactly," K3 confirmed. "They're poking at us, seeing if we crack. We can't let 'em get any closer."

Qui clenched his jaw, the anger building like a storm. "What's the play? Stick to the fake drop plan?"

"Yeah, but we're tweaking it," K3 replied. "I want more eyes on it. Leon's using foot soldiers—nobodies. We need to figure out who's feeding him, who's close enough to know our every move."

Qui's eyes narrowed as his mind ran through the possibilities. "You think it's someone high up? Someone deep in the crew?"

"Has to be," K3 answered. "We've been in this game too long. Whoever's feeding Leon has to know everything. They've been playing us from the inside."

Qui let out a slow breath, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He had to stay sharp—there was too much riding on this. "We'll find 'em. Keep your head on a swivel."

K3's voice was urgent, but there was an edge to it. "Watch yourself, bruh. This thing's about to get uglier than we thought. Not everyone's gonna make it out clean."

The line went dead, and Qui tossed the phone back into the center console. His heart was racing now, but his mind was colder than ever. 

The trap, the rat, Oblock—all of it was playing out like a chess match, and he wasn't about to let the wrong piece get taken off the board. He had to make the next move count.