death of hope

Chapter 36 "Flying Windfall" (36) Old Neighbors

When the car was parked, the chassis of the car rubbed against the sidewalk. Roy could no longer care about these trivial matters. He slammed the car door and ran towards the depths of the alley.

It was always raining and wet in York City, and the ground was covered with a thin layer of water vapor. Thanks to the repair of the street lights a few days ago, there was some faint light at the entrance of the Old Lame Bar, and the two groups were standing under the lights.

A group of people look like the kind of dropouts who hang out on the streets,
Wearing a white vest, colorful jeans, fluorescent tattoos on his body, rings on his ears, nose, and even lips.The hairstyle is an Afro or Mohawk, dyed in bright colors.

The other group came from the bar, Old Jon, Downey, his girlfriend Miss Susan, the bartender Ferguson, and two regular customers facing the evil, and a dozen or so old neighbors came to help out. Everyone has been favored by Old Jon.

Seeing Roy running over, Ferguson greeted him with a relaxed expression: "Hi, please run in the middle of the night."

Roy panted heavily, putting his hands on his knees: "Huff...Huff...I'm exhausted, what's going on?"

"It's nothing serious, I've sent the gangsters to collect protection fees."

"Impossible, Fisher, the boss of the Clover Gang, respects the old man's character and will not charge him money."

"Times have changed. Taking advantage of the chaos in the urban area, gangs have also begun to fight.
The boss of the Clover gang is dead, the gang members are scattered, and the Black Command is in charge of the entire block. These little guys want to establish authority, starting with imposing protection fees. "

"That's right... I thought it was a big deal." Knowing that this matter had nothing to do with the money, Roy finally breathed a sigh of relief, stood beside the old man and listened to them.

"Boys, don't you know me? I'm Jon the Veteran, Medal of Honor recipient. I still have some prestige on this street."

"Old man, put away that old face of yours, don't need to talk nonsense about whether you have it or not, my brothers don't care who you are, as long as you open a shop on this street, you have to obediently give filial piety money."

"When the Clovers ruled the streets, I never handed in a single one."

"Hey, you said it yourself, the past has changed.

Those bastards from the Clover Gang have long since disappeared!Their boss was shot and his head was blown out!Now this block is in the hands of our Black Command! "

"Call your boss, Robert, and talk about it. He is also a child who grew up on this street. He will definitely give me face."

"Is it necessary for the boss to come forward for such a trivial matter? If you can't even clean up this old thing like you, we brothers will be asses!"

"Speak with respect, boys." Old Jon frowned angrily.

A gangster in a vest hits the ground with a baseball bat:

"It smashed your shop, don't you believe it?"

Facing the threat, Old Jon's resolute face was like a stone sculpture that had been through many vicissitudes, and he did not shrink back at all.

Ferguson and Downey took a step forward: "You give it a try?"

Roy noticed in surprise that Miss Susan, who had been standing beside Downey, had disappeared.

After some searching, I found a masked man in black squatting on the telephone pole, holding a sniper rifle painted with dark night camouflage in his hand. This man was wearing a black cat mask. Judging from his thin body, It was definitely Susan.

The gangsters apparently don't realize that a dangerous masked vigilante is watching them, ready to reap their lives.

(This is not acceptable... If you kill them, you will cause even greater disasters, and the big guys will have to eat and walk around.)
After careful consideration, Roy whispered to Old Jon:
"Old man, don't fight with this group of stunned youths. They are young and vigorous, and they strike with no seriousness. Don't hurt you again."

"Then what do you say?"

"Throw some bones to these bastards, forget about fooling them away, and talk to their boss Robert later, he has received your favor and will give you face."

"Roy, you should think about it. Once you start to give in, these bastards will make more progress."

"Leave it to me, please, old man."

"Okay, I'll show you some face."

"Thank you."

The little gangster with the mohawk said impatiently: "Hey, what are you muttering about in such a low voice! Hurry up and take out the filial piety money!"

Roy raised his hands, expressing his wish for peace, and said:
"Protection fee, right? How much?"

"It's been a long time, and my brothers are all tired. Counting the hard work, I have to give 500!"

For the residents in the slums, this is not a small amount. Frugality is enough for a family to spend a long time, but Roy agreed:
"500, okay, I'll give you the cash."

"Hehe, I was still stingy just now, why did I suddenly feel happy, I changed my mind, I want a thousand!"

Ferguson scolded: "Fuck you! Don't push yourself so hard!" He pulled the machete out of its sheath.

"Hit! Chop!" Downey came over wielding a crowbar, and the neighbors followed suit with different weapons.

The gangsters picked up their baseball bats, looking a little timid: "A group of poor people, don't come here to seek death!"

The atmosphere suddenly became tense, and the black cat knight on the pole opened the safety of the sniper rifle, and put his finger on the trigger.

"Stop! Don't get excited!" Roy shouted, took out a stack of banknotes and threw it out:

"Enough! I've shed enough blood today! Here's 1000 yuan! Take it away!"

The punks were already shaking their legs from fright, but they were still trying to be brave:

"There must be a lot of money hidden in the bar, let's go in and search!"

"Fucking, it's endless!" Roy couldn't bear it anymore, and used the boxing skills he learned on TV,
He twisted his waist, kicked his legs hard, and punched the hapless guy closest to him on the jaw, knocking him out.

"Oh my God! Why are you forcing me! Take the damn money, and get out of here!"

"Good boy, you have the guts to dare to attack the people of our Black Command. You are so deadly! Brothers, shoulder to shoulder!"

Ferguson held up the machete: "Neighbors, we can't let these bastards bully us, hit them! Kill them!"

Seeing that a bloody fight was about to take place in the alley, Susan locked someone's head with a scope. At the critical moment, someone shouted from a distance:

"stop!"

The shouter came over with a group of people. It turned out to be Mr. Robert, the boss of the Black Command.

Seeing the savior, the little gangster ran over quickly: "Brother, this old man didn't give filial money, and even called someone to confront him, and that bearded boy beat our people!"

"Who asked you to come here to collect money?" Robert's voice was deep and deep, with an indescribable majesty.

"Brother, we made our own decisions. The land of the Clover Gang belongs to us. We have to collect the money."

Old Jon said: "Since I opened this bar to make a living, I have never paid tribute money to anyone. When I went to the Star Legion to serve as a soldier, you boys were not born yet!"

"You old devil! How dare you be arrogant in front of our boss!" The little gangster was about to throw a punch when he was tripped by Robert stretching out his foot.

"I'm sorry, old man, the younger brothers are ignorant, and it's not my idea to come here and provoke you old man without authorization."

Old Jon stared at each other, and said like a father educating his son:
"Little Robert, you really disappointed me. With such good grades, why didn't you go to college, and then degenerated into being a gangster in the neighborhood, a worthless guy!"

"I have no money to pay tuition, old man."

Robert was bullied when he was a child, and he was helped by Old Jon. Naturally, he treated his benefactor with special respect, and he didn't dare to speak back when he was scolded:

"I will tell my subordinates to keep them away from your bar. Is that satisfactory?"

Old Jon spat and left a sentence: "Hmph, worthless boy!" He opened the door and went back to the bar.

Robert walked to the little bastard lying on the ground: "Two teeth fell out, it's cruel enough, who did it."

The man with the Mohawk pointed his finger at Roy: "This kid hit him, brother, deal with him!"

"Hehe, isn't this Roy? I almost didn't recognize him with a beard."

"Robert, you're doing well. You're still wearing formal clothes, and you look like a dog."

"Hey, so-so, we're old neighbors, what a nice person your father is, he even helped repair the bricks in my house."

"Yeah, a good man, but it's a pity that good men don't live long, but a vicious guy like you lives well."

"Okay, the reminiscence time is over, let's talk about serious business, if the person who beat me is just let you go, what is the prestige of my boss, you say yes."

"It's such a reason, what are you going to do? Let these bastards under your hands beat me up?"

"It's too careless to bully the few with the more, and the disputes between the old neighbors have to be resolved according to the old rules."

"One-on-one, boxing rules?"

"of course."

"Ask my younger brother to do it for you, or do it yourself?"

"I'm not like you, Roy. I rely on my brains to get on the streets. I have a young man under my command who is a fierce thief. He has fought professionally for two years. You can find anyone you want, how about it?"

Roy smiled, took out the lighter and lit a cigarette for the other party:

"That's it, old chap."

(End of this chapter)