READ WEBNOVEL 72 Loyalty
I nodded, putting on a somewhat dejected expression. "Yeah, man. Life's tough, and my girlfriend's got expensive taste. I've been looking for a way to make some quick cash, you know?" [Suggestion : Success ]
He leaned in, looking around as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "I feel you, bro. These gangs, they can be a real lifesaver. But they ain't just gonna let anyone in. You gotta prove yourself. Show 'em you're tough, and you're loyal." "So, how do I get started? Any tips or advice?" I asked.
He grinned, apparently happy to have someone to share his 'wisdom' with. "You know, my gang, the Brutal Garden, we're always looking for new blood. We've got a solid crew and some real connections. If you're looking to make some extra cash, we might be your best bet."
'Solid Crew? Real Connections?' I thought to myself, amused by the gang's self-proclaimed titles. 'You're a gang that got your butts whooped by a single woman. I don't think 'solid' is the right choice of words.'
I feigned interest, sipping my third Frappuccino as if hanging onto his every word. "The Brutal Garden, huh? Tell me more."
[Suggestion : Success ]
He grinned, apparently happy to have someone interested in his gang. "Well, first off, we're tight-knit. Loyalty is everything to us. You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us. But we take care of our own, you know? And we're not afraid to get our hands dirty if it means protecting our turf."
"Sounds like my kind of crew. What's the process for joining?" I nodded, taking mental notes. [Suggestion : Success ]
"You need to meet one of the recruiters and show what you can offer to the group," he explained. "I used to do track and field back in school, so I'm a runner." "That sounds doable," I replied, feigning enthusiasm. "I used to box, so I've got some fighting ability. I'll make sure to impress them." "You do boxing?" He asked, clearly impressed.
'No, bro, I box packages in the mall. I just said that I have some Fighting ability' I thought sarcastically, but replied with a nod.
"How good are you?" 'Good enough to beat a national champion in under 60 seconds,' I thought to myself with a confident chuckle .
"Good enough to hold my own," I replied modestly, stopping myself with all might might from boosting too much.
"That's great, we need people like you, people that can fight." "Then , set up a meeting for me, Bro" I suggested .
[Suggestion : Success]
He glanced around again, making sure nobody was listening in. "I can set up a meeting for you if you're really serious. "
"Of course, I'm serious. Just tell me what I need to do." I played along, acting eager. "Let's go now, there's a recruitment process happening in a few hours. I can introduce you as my cousin to make things easier," "Sure thing ," I answered with a wide grin. Everything is going much smoother than I expected. —
—
As we entered the gang's headquarters, my curiosity and apprehension grew with each passing floor. The building had a distinct vibe on each level.
On the ground floor, a dimly lit restaurant welcomed us. Diners occupied various tables, engrossed in their hushed and secretive conversations. The rich aroma of spicy dishes filled the air, mingling with the subdued murmur of patrons.
Ascending to the second floor, we entered a bar that felt like a different world entirely. Neon lights cast a dim blue glow, creating an eerie yet enchanting ambiance. The bar counter stretched along one wall, displaying a colorful array of bottles. Patrons were scattered around the room, perched on high stools or tucked into plush, shadowy corners. Soft jazz music played in the background, adding to the unique atmosphere. Despite the sun still hanging high in the sky, I could see people at the tables already indulging in their drinks. Some of them were being served by young girls who, thanks to the dim light and neon signs, appeared more beautiful than they probably were, with makeup so thick it could have doubled as flour. It was like a beauty pageant for the "Most Floured Waitress." The second floor were filled with gangsters, but because I was with OK KI, they let us pass without any trouble. As we continued our climb to the third floor, the ambiance transformed once again. The room buzzed with the shuffling of cards, the clatter of dice, and the occasional burst of excitement. The illegal casino was cleverly concealed behind an unassuming exterior. Gamblers gathered around tables, their faces illuminated by the glow of poker chips and the anticipation of their next wager. It was a place alive with the thrill of risk and reward.
Now, as we made our way to the fourth floor, I couldn't help but wonder what awaited us at the top of this intriguing establishment.
We walked down a hallway before entering a spacious room of around 200 square meters. There were already a bunch of young-looking guys sitting inside, and they all seemed nervous. "Cousin," Ok ki said with a wink, "you can take a seat." This guy was turning out to be more helpful than I had initially thought. I took a seat in the last row and waited, feeling like I was in some kind of networking scheme or seminar. After a few minutes, a bald man entered the room. He had a burly build, weighing maybe around 100kg, but because of his height, at least 6'1", he didn't look fat at all. In fact, he looked quite muscular. I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly as I observed the newcomers. It seemed like the gang leader was trying to intimidate them by presenting someone who looked like a hardened killer. Some of the newbies appeared anxious, while others were sneering, their arrogance stemming from the fact that none of them had been beaten to a pulp yet. They probably considered themselves school gang leaders and thought they were big shots because they owned some worthless territory. In reality, they would get thrashed if they ever faced a professional fighter. "STAND UP!"
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