A few days later.
At a small bar.
Scarface was drowning his sorrows in drink after drink. What he thought was a surefire shot at becoming the leader of the Xuanwu faction had been derailed by an unexpected rival—Jiang Bing.
This guy had once taken the fall for the gang and had only recently gotten out of prison. According to the gang’s rules, anyone who did time for the organization was considered a hero and had to be rewarded upon release.
Scarface had been managing two venues—two modest-sized bars. But the boss had directly handed one of them over to Jiang Bing. To make matters worse, Jiang Bing had openly declared that the Xuanwu faction leadership was his for the taking.
"Erkun, tell me, what the hell is the boss thinking?" Scarface slammed down another shot before venting to the man beside him. "He knows damn well Jiang Bing used to be Boss Lei’s lackey. Why’s he pushing him so hard? Just ‘cause he did time?"
Erkun took a sip of his drink and thought for a moment. "Scarface, I think you’re overcomplicating it. The boss isn’t really backing Jiang Bing. Sure, Jiang Bing used to work under Boss Liu, and he went inside for the gang. If Boss Lei were still around, Jiang Bing might’ve had a real shot at the position. But things are different now. After what happened with The Young Lady, a lot of the old-timers in the gang have been whispering behind the boss’s back. At a time like this, the boss has no choice. Everyone knows how he got his position, so he’s gotta prop up Jiang Bing to win people over."
Scarface only got angrier. He slammed his glass on the table. "So what the hell am I supposed to do? Just watch the position slip through my fingers?"
Erkun leaned in. "We’re not out of options yet. Even if Jiang Bing’s gunning for the spot, it’s not that easy. The foot soldiers have to respect him. Take this street, for example—several territories are still in outsiders’ hands. Someone’s gotta take them back, right?"
"If Jiang Bing actually pulls that off, then yeah, he deserves the position."
Scarface narrowed his eyes. "So you’re saying…"
Erkun lowered his voice. "Simple. We strike first—take over the rest of the street before Jiang Bing makes his move. First, it’ll show the boss what you’re capable of. Second, Jiang Bing’s banking on his ‘former elite’ status and prison cred to climb the ladder."
"By gang rules, a faction leader has to control at least one full street. If half the venues are already in our hands, how’s Jiang Bing gonna have the nerve to demand them? Even if he ends up as leader, it’ll be in name only."
Scarface frowned. "Sounds good, but will the boss allow it? If he’s dead set on pushing Jiang Bing, he might force me to hand over the territories anyway."
Erkun shook his head firmly. "He won’t."
Scarface scoffed. "How the hell not? If that were true, why’d he make me give one of my bars to Jiang Bing?"
Erkun calmly refilled Scarface’s glass. "Because the boss hasn’t seen your strengths. No offense, Scarface, but you’re loyal, never betray your brothers, generous, capable, and even got your own signature moves—yet the boss doesn’t see any of that."
"Even as his right-hand man, you’ve always been humble, never showing off. But if the boss doesn’t see what you bring, how’s he gonna trust you with bigger things?"
"Scarface, my advice? Stop holding back. Show the boss what you’re made of. Even if you don’t get the top spot, you’ll move up the ranks."
"Most importantly, once you secure this street, the boss won’t make you give it up. He’ll know who’s really dependable. A smart guy like you? He’ll lean on you even harder."
"As for Jiang Bing? The boss probably wants someone to keep him in check. After all, he was Boss Lei’s man. The boss might even be looking for a way to deal with him…"
Scarface’s eyes lit up with realization. He grabbed Erkun’s hand excitedly. "Having you by my side is like a fish in water!"
"But let’s be real—those venues are under Big Fool’s guys. We barely have any men. How the hell are we supposed to take them?"
Erkun smirked. "Already handled that." He turned and called out, "Get in here!"
The door swung open, and over thirty men in white suits filed in, led by a sharp-faced young man.
"Scarface!"
"Scarface!"
The group greeted him in unison.
Scarface was stunned. He turned to Erkun, baffled. "The hell is this?"
Erkun explained, "These brothers admire you, Scarface. I’ve been spreading stories about you—especially that bit where you caught a blade bare-handed. Got ‘em all fired up, eager to follow you to greatness. We were short on men, so I brought ‘em all in. Not a huge crew, but they can handle themselves."
He pointed at the young leader and whispered, "That one’s Chu Yang. Can take on a dozen guys alone. Now, he’s nowhere near your level, but he’ll do. Don’t be too hard on him."
Scarface: "???"
Too hard on him? Since when? A guy who fights a dozen at once is a damn monster!
Still, he wasn’t stupid. He figured Erkun must’ve hyped him up as some unbeatable legend to attract talent like this. Time to play the part.
"So I hear you’re all tough? Well, you’ve got a long way to go before you reach my level. Back in the day, I once fought my way across the East and West Districts with nothing but a watermelon knife—nine days and nights straight, didn’t even blink. Ended up with chronic dry eye, according to the doc."
"Not saying this to brag. Just a reminder—even in our line of work, stay humble. Normally, I wouldn’t bother with recruits. At my level, what do I need lackeys for? But since you came all this way, I’ll take you in."
"One rule, though—never ask to sip my noodle soup while I’m eating. Got it?"
"Got it, Scarface!" the men roared.
Er Kun felt an immense thrill hearing so many people respectfully address him as "Brother Scarface." He had always envied those imposing, black-suited subordinates of The Young Lady. Now, he had his own crew—dressed in white suits. Though not as intimidating as the black ones, they still looked pretty sharp.
"Where did these suits come from?" Scarface suddenly asked.
Without hesitation, Er Kun had someone bring over a bag and handed it to Scarface. "Here’s yours, Brother Scarface."
Scarface didn’t stand on ceremony. He took the bag, stripped off his jacket, and slipped into the white suit. Once dressed, he suddenly felt even more like a formidable boss.
Especially with those letters on his chest—‘daSabi.’ Not bad, not bad. A brand name, even: Adidas.
