Leo walked up to Padre's bedside and asked with concern, "Padre, how are you feeling?"
Padre forced a smile. "Still breathing. Not dead yet."
He patted the space beside him and tried to sit up. Leo stepped forward to support him, propping him up with a few pillows.
"Tell me what's going on in the streets."
He didn't bother being polite—his tone was like that of an elder at home. So Leo recounted everything that had happened since Padre was admitted to the hospital. Of course, stirring up conflict between the Kiryu-gumi and the Clemente family was something he could mention. But the assassination of the Juan family's boss—that was something he absolutely could not reveal. Some things could be done, but not spoken of.
Even if everyone suspected it was you, without hard proof, you could never admit it. Leo understood that line clearly.
Padre grinned. "So now all my men are listening to Jackie?"
Leo replied half-jokingly, "Pretty much. If you stay in the hospital for a few more months, you'll come back and find your whole operation stolen out from under you."
Padre gave a dry laugh, followed by a sudden coughing fit.
"Padre?" Leo looked at him with concern.
"I'm fine. And besides, why are you so worried? Wouldn't I dying be just what you wanted?"
Leo rolled his eyes. "Don't talk nonsense. What kind of person do you take me for? If you died, sure, I'd tell Jackie to take over everything without hesitation. But if you're alive, of course, I wouldn't hope you die."
Padre couldn't help but show a satisfied expression. "Not bad. Now I understand why Jackie and V are willing to follow you without question."
"But have you thought about this—if I fully recover and leave the hospital, everything you've done to help Jackie rise up would have been for nothing."
Leo looked completely unconcerned. "Not really. We've worked together so well. Both logically and emotionally, I can't just let your power get eaten up by someone else, right? But if I were you, I'd also start thinking about succession."
Padre raised a brow. "Are you trying to use favors to push your agenda?"
"How can you say that? What, are you telling me you've never thought about life after retirement? Do you really want to keep fighting and killing for the rest of your life?"
Being a gang boss might be one of the few jobs in this world where people most want to retire—and yet can never really do so. Many gang leaders, old and gray, still had to keep going. Why? Not because they loved the job. It wasn't about passion. It was because they couldn't quit.
In this world, what goes around comes around. A crime boss might look like he's on top of the world, but in reality, it's a position full of danger. Everyone's watching your every move—your friends, your subordinates, your enemies. Just imagine how many people Padre had pissed off, how many wished he would drop dead on the spot. When you still hold power, your enemies might hesitate. But the moment you retire, they'll come knocking. Because you're no longer in power—you're just a regular man.
For people in that position, it usually either ended with them six feet under or in the can.
Looking at Leo, Padre let out a long sigh. "Jackie was born into a tragic family. I used to question why the Lord would target him like that. Now I understand—it's because he used all his luck on friendship. Having a brother like you is his greatest blessing."
"It's only right. If it were Jackie, he'd do the same for me."
Padre fell into deep thought for a while, before finally speaking. "Fine. Once I'm discharged, I'll take a good look at him. See if he's really fit to become a fixer. You know this line of work takes a bit of talent, and Jackie still has a lot to learn."
Leo was a little surprised, unable to help but doubt his ears. "You agreed? Just like that? No conditions? I thought…"
Seeing Leo, always the sharp kid, finally make a face like that gave Padre a small victory. He couldn't help but laugh out loud. "What did you think? That I'd be furious? That I'd explode in rage? That I'd be trembling at your little power play? If that's what you thought, you couldn't be more wrong. I, Sebastián Ibarra, am not that kind of man."
…
Jackie and Marcus had been waiting outside the room for a long time before they finally saw Leo come out. Marcus wanted to go in and speak with Padre, but remembering the doctor's warning, he gave up. Jackie, on the other hand, couldn't wait.
"What did Padre say, hermano?"
Leo smiled and patted Jackie on the shoulder. "Padre said to do your best. While he's out, his men are under your command."
Jackie hadn't even reacted yet, but Marcus was already looking at him with a mix of shock, excitement, and disbelief.
"What does that mean?"
"Jackie, Padre's naming you his successor."
Marcus had followed Padre for years. He had never heard Padre mention naming an heir. The man was only in his forties or fifties, sure that was old for a fixer but he was still in his prime. He hadn't shown any signs of wanting to retire. But now Leo walks in for one conversation and suddenly he changed his plans?
He looked at Leo with a new kind of respect. Had Leo convinced Padre?
Marcus didn't continue thinking about it. No matter the reason, this meant Jackie had truly made it. Padre was a fixer in Heywood, with a huge crew under him and a territory to match. Becoming his successor meant rising to the top overnight. Every street kid dreamed of something like this—but only a few made it real.
Still, even though Marcus was envious, he didn't feel jealous. He knew his own limits. He could fight, sure, but being a gang boss? No way. He wasn't cut out for it. If he were put in charge, the whole operation would go belly-up within a week, and the crew would be starving.
"If Padre's chosen you, then you've got to step up and make something of it. Don't let him down."
Jackie was already cracking his knuckles, hyped up. "You just say the word, Leo. I'm ready."
"We've been quiet long enough. Time to shake things up."
…
At the Clemente family compound, Clemente sat in his office. On the table in front of him were several unopened bottles of liquor. He'd asked his men to bring them in, wanting to drown everything in booze. But every time he reached for a bottle, his reason pulled him back. Reality sucked—but it was better than getting drunk and ignoring it.
"At least the Valentinos have been scared off, and the Juan family's boss got hit by some mystery assassin. They probably can't spare the effort now."
He had made the call to give up the Glen and pull everyone back to Santo Domingo for defense—a decision that had faced serious opposition from within the family. But facts had proven Clemente right. The Glen had become a pile of rubble, ripe for the Valentinos to fight over. All they had to do now was focus on the Kiryu-gumi.
"Should I bring in Militech? Companies usually don't interfere in gang wars, but if I offer them the right deal…"
The 6th Street gang was Militech's black ops arm, just like Tyger Claws worked for Arasaka. Usually, corps wouldn't get their hands dirty helping a minor gang—but sometimes, it depended on the situation. Corps weren't monoliths; they were made up of individuals.
Clemente didn't expect Militech as a whole to back him. But if he could spend big and convince a few execs to lend their support, that would be enough.
Knock knock knock—
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
"What is it?"