Jesse was in a good mood, which was usually how Lucas could tell something important had just gone right.
Not cheerful, exactly. Jesse was never cheerful in a way that felt stable. It was more like he had a live wire humming under his skin and the slightest proof of success made him pace less and complain less for a few hours. That was his version of peace.
Lucas found him standing outside his place in the late afternoon, hands shoved into his pockets, head slightly tilted back like he was trying to act casual for the entire neighborhood.
Jesse grinned when he saw him. "Yo."
Lucas stepped out of the car. "You look way too happy."
Jesse snorted. "That's because we made money."
Lucas gave him a flat look. "We made one sale."
"Yeah," Jesse said, like Lucas had said something obvious and boring, "and one sale leads to another sale, and another sale, and then boom, we're in business."
Lucas folded his arms. "You are one good day away from calling yourself an entrepreneur."
Jesse blinked. "What does that even mean?"
"It means you're already acting like an idiot with a budget."
Jesse laughed despite himself. "Man, screw you."
Lucas's gaze drifted toward Jesse's door, then back to him. "You call me over just to brag?"
Jesse shook his head, still smiling. "Nah. I called you because we've got a meeting."
"With who?"
Jesse made a face. "Mr. White."
Lucas nodded slowly. That made sense. Walter White was not the sort of man who let a first success sit around and get comfortable. If the product had moved, he would want the details, the numbers, the flaws, the next step, the inevitable correction to whatever Jesse had done wrong without meaning to.
Lucas could almost hear Walter's voice already.
"You told him?"
Jesse looked at him like he'd asked whether the sun was still in the sky. "Yeah, man. I told him."
"Everything?"
"Not everything."
Lucas raised an eyebrow.
Jesse held up both hands. "Okay, enough. I told him enough."
Lucas wasn't convinced, but he also knew Jesse was not the kind of person who could keep a clean report if he tried. Walter would probably arrive expecting facts and leave with irritation.
"Where's the meeting?"
Jesse jerked his head toward the car. "Come on."
Lucas sighed. "You really love making this mysterious."
"I don't love it," Jesse said as they started walking. "I just think it sounds cooler."
"It doesn't."
"It does to me."
"That's because you're wrong."
Jesse laughed and got into the driver's seat while Lucas slid into the passenger seat without another word. The car smelled faintly like stale air freshener and old fast food, which made it feel more like a place Jesse lived than a vehicle he used. He started the engine and pulled away from the curb.
For a few minutes, neither of them said much.
Then Jesse broke first, which he almost always did.
"So," he said, drumming his fingers on the wheel. "You think he's gonna be happy?"
Lucas looked out the window. "About what?"
"The sale."
Lucas turned slightly. "Jesse, he's Walter White."
"Okay?"
"That sentence answers itself."
Jesse frowned. "How?"
"Because Walter White is never just happy. He's either worried, annoyed, or thinking five steps ahead while everyone else is still trying to remember the first step."
Jesse glanced at him. "You talk about him like he's some kind of comic book villain."
Lucas shrugged. "He's a chemistry teacher who showed up in the desert and decided to change his life with meth. That's not comic book villain territory. That's weirder."
Jesse opened his mouth, then shut it. "You know what? Fair."
Lucas leaned back and watched the street slide past. Albuquerque looked normal in the afternoon light, which always bothered him a little. The city had a way of pretending it wasn't built on exhaustion and bad decisions. That was part of the trick. Everything looked ordinary right up until it wasn't.
Jesse checked the rearview mirror and then said, "He asked questions."
Lucas glanced over. "Of course he did."
"Yeah, but like… a lot."
"What kind of questions?"
Jesse shrugged. "Numbers. Where the buyers were. How they looked. If they asked about supply. If I think they'll come back."
Lucas rubbed the side of his face. "That sounds like Walter."
Jesse looked over at him. "You really know him that well already?"
"No," Lucas said. "But I know the type."
Jesse was quiet for a second. "Yeah. Me too, I guess."
That hung in the car for a little while.
Then Jesse muttered, "He's weird though."
Lucas looked toward him. "You say that like you just noticed."
"No, I noticed. I just mean—he's weird in a different way."
Lucas smirked faintly. "You mean more annoying."
"That too."
They drove on.
The meeting was at one of Jesse's usual places, a spot he'd clearly picked because it was familiar and because it gave him the illusion of control. A little house on a side street with a driveway that had seen better decades. Lucas knew before he even stepped out of the car that Walter would not like the location. Too visible. Too domestic. Too many things could go wrong in a place that looked like it had nothing to do with crime.
Jesse knocked once and then opened the door with the kind of confidence that only came from either total naivety or not caring enough to be nervous.
Walter was inside.
He turned as they entered, and his expression shifted into the same controlled calm Lucas had already started to recognize. Not relaxed. Never relaxed. Just organized.
"You're late," Walter said.
Jesse pointed at him. "Man, I'm two minutes late at most."
Walter looked at Lucas. "You are on time."
Lucas nodded. "Strange world."
Walter ignored that and glanced toward the table where Jesse had set down the money and the notes.
"Sit," Walter said.
Jesse blinked. "Excuse me?"
Walter didn't repeat himself. He simply stood there and looked at him.
Jesse sighed, muttering, "Unreal," before dropping into a chair.
Lucas stayed standing for a moment longer. Walter noticed immediately.
"You can sit if you'd like," he said.
Lucas shook his head. "I'm fine."
Walter accepted that without comment, which somehow made it more obvious that he was filing the detail away for later.
He moved to the table, opened the notes, and looked at them in silence.
Jesse shifted in his chair. "So?"
Walter didn't answer right away.
He read first.
Then reread.
Then finally said, "This is useful."
Jesse sat up a little. "Yeah?"
Walter looked at him. "You sold all of it."
"Most of it," Jesse corrected.
Walter's eyes narrowed slightly. "Define most."
Jesse hesitated.
Lucas stepped in before the pause could get too loud. "He means enough to matter."
Walter looked at Lucas for a second, then back at Jesse. "And the buyers?"
"Interested," Jesse said quickly. "They want more."
Walter's gaze sharpened. "How much more?"
Jesse shrugged. "More."
"That is not a number."
"It's the best number I've got right now."
Walter let out a controlled breath through his nose, which was the closest he got to an exasperated sigh. "Did they ask about purity?"
Jesse nodded. "Yeah."
"And?"
"They liked it."
Walter paused.
Lucas watched him.
That seemed to matter. Not because Walter needed praise, but because confirmation meant the process was working. The chemistry wasn't just theoretical now. It had gone out into the world and returned as value. That was the point at which the whole thing stopped being an experiment and started becoming a business.
Walter folded the papers neatly and set them down. "Then we continue."
Jesse blinked. "That's it?"
Walter looked at him. "What did you expect?"
"I don't know. A speech. A fist bump. Something."
Walter's face stayed flat. "You sold product, Jesse. You did not cure cancer."
Jesse's eyes widened. "Damn, alright."
Lucas almost laughed.
Walter continued, "If the buyers are willing to move more, we need scale. More output. More consistency. More discipline."
Jesse made a face. "You really love the word discipline."
Walter's voice was even. "Because you do not."
Jesse pointed at him. "See, that's what I mean. You can't just talk like a guy who's mad at the concept of fun."
Walter looked at him. "Fun is irrelevant."
Lucas muttered, "That explains a lot."
Jesse glanced at him. "You too?"
Lucas shrugged. "I've been saying he's intense."
Walter's eyes moved between them. "And yet, you came."
Jesse leaned back in the chair. "Because money."
Walter nodded once, as if that were the only answer worth hearing. "Exactly."
There was a short pause.
Then Walter said, "I want the names of the buyers."
Jesse blinked. "Why?"
"Because I need to know who is moving our product."
Jesse frowned. "Our?"
Walter didn't correct him. "Yes."
Lucas watched Jesse's face shift a little at that. Not resistance, exactly. More like the realization that Walter was already making the operation bigger than Jesse had intended to think about. Jesse had wanted money. Walter wanted a system.
Those were not the same thing.
Jesse looked between them. "Alright, you want names, I got names."
Walter waited.
Jesse gave him a look. "You're not gonna like them."
Walter's expression barely changed. "That is not a concern."
Jesse exhaled. "One of them's a guy named Krazy-8."
Lucas looked at Jesse. "That's a real name?"
Jesse pointed at him. "See? Exactly. That's what I said."
Walter's face tightened a fraction. "Is that his nickname or his actual name?"
Jesse shrugged. "That's what everybody calls him."
Walter turned the name over in his head, clearly not pleased. "And the other?"
Jesse hesitated.
Lucas noticed.
Walter noticed too.
The room got quieter by a degree.
Jesse said, "You don't need to worry about the other guy yet."
Walter's eyes sharpened. "That means I do."
Jesse shifted in his seat. "Maybe."
Lucas folded his arms. "That sounds like the kind of answer that gets people stabbed later."
Jesse gave him a long look. "You always do that?"
"Do what?"
"Say the thing that makes me feel less good about the thing I just said."
Lucas nodded once. "Yes."
Walter looked mildly disgusted by the whole exchange. "We are not discussing the possibility of stabbing. We are discussing distribution."
Jesse shook his head and laughed under his breath. "Man, the way you say things."
Walter ignored him. "If the first sale worked, then there is demand. Which means the next step is not optional."
Jesse looked at him. "And what exactly is the next step, Professor?"
Walter didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked toward Lucas again.
"You," Walter said, "understand risk."
Lucas met his gaze. "Enough."
Walter nodded. "Then you understand that once there is demand, there will be attention."
Jesse frowned. "Attention from who?"
"From everyone," Walter said.
That quieted the room a little.
Even Jesse knew enough to understand that was not a reassuring answer.
Walter continued, "We must remain careful. No boasting. No unnecessary contact. No sloppy handling."
Jesse groaned. "There it is."
Walter looked at him. "There what is?"
"Your whole thing."
"My whole thing?"
"You're gonna turn this into homework."
Walter's expression didn't move. "If you are incapable of following simple procedures, then yes, it will feel like homework."
Jesse gave a long, annoyed sigh.
Lucas shook his head. "He's not wrong."
Jesse pointed at him again. "Why are you always siding with him?"
Lucas shrugged. "Because he's right more often."
Jesse stared at him like betrayal had become a hobby.
Walter, for his part, was already looking at the money again, dividing the numbers in his head before anyone else had even finished talking. Lucas could practically see the next several decisions forming behind his eyes. Walter had already moved beyond the first sale. He was thinking about what a second sale would require, what failures could happen, what efficiencies could be improved.
That meant he was already becoming dangerous in the way people get when they realize they can finally build something they've wanted for too long.
Jesse broke the silence. "So what now?"
Walter looked up. "Now, we plan."
Jesse snorted. "You love saying that."
Walter's gaze held. "Because someone must."
Lucas looked at the two of them and had the strange, unpleasant feeling that he was watching the first brick being laid in a wall nobody would be able to see until it was too high to climb.
And maybe that was the point.
Maybe Walter always wanted walls.
Maybe Jesse always wanted the money.
Lucas, meanwhile, was mostly trying to survive the shape of both.
---
By the time Lucas got home, the city had gone dark enough that the streetlights outside his apartment started to look like floating bruises in the night. He kicked off his shoes, tossed his jacket over a chair, and checked the clock without really meaning to.
1:23 AM.
Still not time.
He had another hour before the system came around again.
That gave him time to think, which in his experience was either useful or a problem depending on how tired he was.
He sat down at the edge of his bed and looked at his phone.
No messages yet.
Probably Jesse celebrating in his own chaotic way. Probably Walter making notes no one asked him to make. Probably both of them already thinking about the next move in completely different languages.
At 1:59, Lucas was still awake.
At 2:00, the screen appeared.
[Daily Pull Available]
He stared at it for a moment.
"Alright," he said softly. "Don't get cute."
He pressed yes.
The spin started.
Bright symbols flashed by in the dark room, each one meaningless on its own and impossible to predict in the second they passed. Lucas didn't try to guess. That was the point. He had stopped trying to make the system behave like it had a plan.
It stopped.
[Reward Acquired]
Portable Bottle Opener
Lucas blinked.
Then stared a little longer.
"…That is aggressively random."
No passive. No weapon. No hidden utility beyond the obvious.
Just a bottle opener.
He snorted once, despite himself.
"Well," he muttered, turning the small item over in his hand, "that's about as useful as a sock with ambition."
The system vanished.
And Lucas, sitting alone in the dark, had to admit that if the whole point of this thing was to keep him off balance, it was still doing its job very well.