Time swiftly approached evening.
Allen Zhang got the new recruits of the Beggar Gang outfitted with new clothes, new shoes, cleaned their faces, and updated their gear, finishing with a meal. At least they looked a bit cleaner and tidier, more human-like.
Back at camp, he briefly greeted Simone and the others who had returned to the camp, then hopped into the pickup truck and drove off towards the Irish’s sewer hideout.
Upon arrival, from a distance, he saw oil drums burning with bonfires. A group of Europeans with colorful hair and strange attire gathered around, some male, some female, smoking leaves, drinking Budweiser, singing, and dancing.
"So fond of dancing? Don’t stop without our say-so later."
Allen Zhang glanced over, put on his DG sunglasses, and popped a piece of gum into his mouth.
"Guys, out of the truck! Time to work!!"
A gang of men aggressively jumped off the pickup, heading straight towards the crowd.
Many of the Europeans took notice of these unwelcome guests, clustering together, "Hey! What are you doing here? Don’t you know this is our turf?"
A white man with a Mohawk and face full of tattoos stood up with a bottle in his hand, cursing and clearly displeased.
"Shut your mouths! Quiet down! Listen to our boss!!"
Sieg did not pamper them, immediately pulling out a submachine gun from his tactical chest rig, chambering it with two clicks, pointing the dark barrel at them.
They were all stunned by their strong stance.
Pulling a gun right off the bat?
Have you no sense of martial ethics!!
The rats instantly calmed down, turning into timid lizards, trying to talk sense, "Gentlemen, we can talk this out. There’s no need for conflict!"
But why would Allen Zhang and his crew reason with them?
I’ve drawn a gun and now you want to talk reason, but when you were beating people and stealing, why didn’t you talk reason then?
Sieg pointed at the Mohawk man holding the bottle, bewildered, "Put the bottle down! Do you want to try if your bottle is harder or my bullets? Kneel down! Hands on your head!!"
The Mohawk man felt a tingling on his scalp, and obediently knelt down, putting the bottle on the ground, and raised both hands.
"Ok! I’ve put it down, who the hell are you? We’re honest scavengers who work hard to make a living by our own hands, good citizens of Los Angeles! We haven’t provoked your gangsters! We know the rules!"
"Of course, you know the rules, but knowing the rules doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll follow them."
Allen Zhang put his hands in his pockets, stepping forward from behind the crowd, everyone taking notice of this Asian face appearing at night with DG sunglasses, chewing gum, radiating an imposing vibe.
"May I ask who you are? In what way did we wrong you?" they asked tentatively.
"I’m Hanberger Juan Jin from Lori Louis 19. I think you must have heard my name before. I’m here, of course, to settle an economic dispute."
Allen Zhang responsibly threw his gum into the trash can and pointed directly at the Mohawk man’s nose, cursing violently, "You motherfuckers, daring to come to our turf and cause trouble, not only did you hurt our people, but you also smashed my car, do you really not take me seriously!!"
"If you really can’t see, then gouge out your eyeballs and smash them on the ground, at least they’ll make a sound!!"
His comrades cooperatively pulled out folding knives and held baseball bats, looking threatening.
The Mohawk man was terrified, kneeling on the ground shaking like a leaf, sweating profusely, not daring to breathe heavily.
"Isn’t Lori Louis 19 the turf of that Black cripple?" The remaining Irish gang members looked at each other in confusion, have you presumed to take over for someone else?
"Lately I heard there’s indeed an Asian joining the crew, very hot-tempered, and quite the fighter."
The group was at a loss, feeling unjustly afflicted, as it was just a few individuals who had caused the issue, not all of them.
The Mohawk man also felt a bit of regret, initially wanting to take advantage of the chaos for revenge against little Lori and to make some quick cash. He never expected that even robbing a can would hit such a snag.
As a vagrant, you don’t do your job properly, instead you play gangster buying guns and bullets, what’s the plan here?
You might as well just admit to being a gang and switch to dealing dope, selling coco, running strip clubs, bars, arcades, and even getting into some smuggling on the side. Wouldn’t you earn way more?!
Relying on your big fists and lethal weapons, you go around competing with us homeless folk for cans and treasure chests; that’s cheating! You’re disrupting the market economy!
The Irish crew is having a tough time.
At best, our gear consists of baseball bats, fruit knives, and for the lucky ones, a bb gun that’s not daring enough to be brandished openly.
They’re pulling out the real deal on the other side, how are we supposed to fight back?! It’s like bringing a knife to a gunfight!
Surrender! As long as I surrender fast enough! They won’t beat me up! They’ll only beat up my teammates.
"Okok! You’re the boss! We give up!!"
The Europeans swiftly caved and called out their own boss from the gang.
The Irish boss, with his head buzzing, had just emerged cuddling two scantily clad beauties to see what was up, instantly sobered by the scene, and couldn’t find joy in it anymore.
Screw this! Why am I still massaging these grapes!
Immediately shoving the models aside, he offers up a pack of quality dope with a smile, lighting a lighter, showing some street-level manners, "Mr. Jin, do you smoke?"
"I’m the head of the Irish, you can call me Jon. We were indeed in the wrong. Don’t be angry, we can solve this peacefully! Damn it, who did this?" Jon turned and cursed at the crowd trying to clear his own suspicion, looking out for himself, but such tricks were hopeless.
We’re not fools here; we won’t be fooled by just a few words.
"Is there someone among you called ’Mad Dog’? Famous? A good fighter?"
Allen Zhang ignored the offered cigarettes, asking expressionlessly. Pretending not to understand, he looked around, "Where’s this ’Mad Dog’?"
"Mr. Jin, I’m kneeling on the ground here."
Mohawk is sweating buckets.
"You were pretty bold before, huh!!" Allen Zhang’s face darkened.
"I was wrong. Please, I beg you, don’t hurt me." Mohawk pleaded with a mournful face.
"Mr. Jin, if you hit him, you can’t hit us anymore. It was all his doing, we’ll compensate you in full for any damages!" The Irish boss Jon turned into a cowardly combative lizard.
Have the guts to do it but not to own up, ready to sell out a good brother.
After all, in the underworld, what are brothers for if not to be sold.
Otherwise, what can be done? Should I, the boss, take the fall and the bullets for you?
Sacrifice one to save the rest, how selfish can you be to not make that sacrifice?
What a move of moral blackmail punch!!
Allen Zhang was also shocked by their shameless thick-skinned act. So this is what they call brotherhood.
"Mr. Jin, we will cover all your losses. If you’re not satisfied, I can offer you these twin sisters to keep you company for a few days. They’re famous models from Eastern Wu!"
Jon with a face full of flattery, with a slap of his buttocks commands, "Hurry up and call them over!!"
The two Eastern Wu beauties exchanged glances, helplessly yet shrewdly swirling around Allen Zhang.
Who said they were tough! They were ready to fight. But seeing such sincere attitudes, they kneel and kowtow before you begging for mercy.
Since it’s come to this, Allen Zhang couldn’t continue the beating and laid out his demands, "Your territory is now ours, and you can’t hog the street can recycling machines either. Go make a living somewhere else, I don’t care where you go, but you’re not allowed back to Fifth Street! It’s not because the Los Angeles police won’t allow it, but because I, Juan Jin, won’t allow it!!"