The Feeling of Being the Boss

The 6th Street Gang wasn't out of members; they were just disorganized.

Gangs work like this—if it were corporate security, they'd hold the line until the last moment, continuously deploying military force.

As long as the enemy hasn't fully seized the core assets, the fight wouldn't stop.

For gangs, the core asset is flimsy—it's their level of organization.

This kind of thing grows when they're winning, but when the tide turns, especially when it turns badly, it disappears without a trace.

In just a short while, watching the Valentinos' convoy brazenly charge into Arroyo, the underlings' spirits were completely crushed.

Even if there were still a few capable fighters beside the Sergeant, it wouldn't make a difference—the Valentinos were metaphorically defecating right in front of them, and the underlings' minds were already elsewhere.

So the best thing to do was to negotiate and end it here.

Leo sat in a chair, propping his feet arrogantly on the negotiation table, displaying an extreme level of insolence.

The Sergeant's brow twitched, "Young man, too much arrogance is not good."

"My legs aren't feeling too great, just using the table to rest them—Sergeant, strictly speaking, we don't have any real grudges, we're just in it for the money."

As he spoke, Leo pulled out two pneumatic injection syringes from his pocket.

One was an alpha neuro suppressant, and the other was a gamma rabies vaccine.

"So it was you who took them," the Sergeant almost growled through gritted teeth.

"If there's a profitable deal, why not share it with your good neighbors?"

Leo paused after saying that, and the Sergeant thought he was waiting for him to respond.

But then Leo continued, "How about this, I'll sell you this info—there's an epidemic in Santo Domingo called gamma rabies. This is the antidote, and this is the vaccine.

I heard that these are selling pretty high recently in Santo Domingo and are in short supply. I'll sell you these two samples, and you can decide the price."

"Don't push it!"

"I'm not," Leo shook his head. "This is the Valentino gang's way of sharing a lucrative business opportunity with you, and now we'll discuss the second matter."

Leo retracted his legs, placing his hands on his knees and leaning slightly forward. "You brought a cyberpsycho to launch a terror attack. Under both old and new American laws, that's a crime against humanity.

If this gets out, how will you explain it to your brothers? The Sergeant of 6th Street hired a psycho to fight for him? What will people think?"

This was not something that could be said openly.

In this small, private room with no people and no equipment, Leo dared to speak like this.

Outside, he couldn't admit it.

And in fact, the two matters were related—Leo was reminding the Sergeant.

This epidemic was likely a scheme by some biotech company to clear out a batch of nearly expired vaccines. The Sergeant had a wide network, but if this got out, he'd be finished.

The 6th Street gang has plenty of fools, but if something like this were exposed and they all unconditionally followed the Sergeant, there'd be no point in being in a gang—they might as well work in a factory tightening screws.

As a gang member, you can kill, sell drugs, but you can't be in bed with the corporations, especially not at the expense of your own people.

After all, most gangs exist to mess with their own kind, not to help corporations.

Especially the 6th Street gang, whose slogan basically boils down to: "As long as we're here, outsiders won't push you around anymore."

"You can't cover this up. Settle the score, and we'll leave. The business between the Valentinos and the 6th Street Gang is something you can discuss with the Padre. Deal?"

The Sergeant folded his arms, tapping his foot irritably.

This business was highly profitable—if he could quietly stockpile and operate under the radar, by the time James wiped out the Valentinos in the Vista Del Rey, he'd be swimming in money, making double, maybe even more!

He might even be able to sell the Padre his own medicine, but now that was impossible.

Leo made sense—the gang leader must follow one principle: when you mess with civilians, you must bring your own men in on it. You can't secretly team up with corporations, especially if it means betraying your own people.

If you do go down that route, you better make sure not too many people know about it.

The Sergeant's prosthetic leg tapped rhythmically on the floor.

Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat—

It wasn't that he didn't understand the situation; he just felt a painful loss over the potential hundreds of thousands of eurodollars in profits slipping away.

The Sergeant suddenly stopped tapping, took a drag from his cigarette, and paused for a moment.

"You're mercs, right?"

"That's right."

"Then you're top-tier—I'm sure we'll have more opportunities to work together."

Transaction complete: +90,000 eurodollars.

Leo smiled, "More than I expected. Thank you for your generosity, Sergeant."

Before leaving, Leo even gave the Sergeant an old American military salute, his precision making the Sergeant wonder if this kid had served before.

As Leo turned around, his cyber-eye lit up, processing a vast amount of data—

Since they were here, they might as well leave something behind.

Padre: "Well done, Leo. The Valentinos and 6th Street have ceased fire. The people in the Watson and Arroyo districts owe you their thanks."

Leo: "One more thing, the arms depot on Woodhaven Street and the weapon dealers in the factories aren't working with 6th Street anymore."

Padre: "Don't worry, the Valentino boys will take over those operations. You're a big shot now—come by The Afterlife sometime. I've got a club membership card waiting for you. We can grab a drink together."

Leo: "Jackie's going to be thrilled to hear that. Thanks, Padre."

Padre: "No problem, kid. This job is done."

Transaction complete: +120,000 eurodollars.

Rosanne: "Lamar's Armory is back in business. I heard you helped out the Red Ochre folks; even the Nomads are talking about it."

Rosanne: "I thought you were just another lunatic at first, but now I've changed my mind. Let's hope our next collaboration doesn't go like the first."

Leo: "I'm always fair with my partners. Let's chat about the Badlands sometime."

Rosanne: "I'm at the shop, and this time, no backdoor deals."

Leo: "Of course."

Chesson: "Damn, man, you're incredible! NCPD was just about to call in the MaxTac team when you guys bagged up James!"

Chesson: "The whole city's blowing up; for some reason, people are back to cursing out the NCPD, and this time, they're even dragging MaxTac into it."

Leo: "Did the goods arrive?"

Chesson: "Yeah, Kang Tao's pleased—but I haven't delivered it yet. I know how this game works."

Chesson: "They want to meet you—don't worry, I've scoped the place out. Your backdoor's still secure, you can check my visual feed."

Leo: "No need, I'll trust you this time. The day after tomorrow—I've got classes tomorrow and the day after."

Chesson: "Classes?"

Leo: "Yeah, classes—did you forget something?"

Chesson: "Oh, right, this is the deposit Kang Tao promised us. Street rules say it's a 70-30 split, but I think you deserve five shares, so we'll split it 50-50."

Transaction complete: +150,000 eurodollars.

"Time to split the cash—360,000 eurodollars in total, 120,000 each."

"Woohoo!"

In the car, Jackie and V cheered simultaneously.

Is it a lot of money?

Honestly, it's not that much, but the reputation and connections they earned this time were invaluable.

Chesson, Padre, Sergeant—they were paying enforcer money, but the real value comes from using your brain to turn that into something bigger.

As soon as the money was transferred, V leaned in close.

"You didn't forget something, did you? Like the 380,000 you owe me?"

"Uh, could you let me keep some? Maybe I could start by paying back 20 or 30k?"

"110,000—you'll pay back 110,000 first."

Leo sighed; his newfound wealth had already dwindled to 10,000 eurodollars.

"And you, Jackie, you owe me 210,000 too," V turned to Jackie.

Jackie's implant surgery cost 310,000, but only 100,000 of that was his own money.

Jackie scratched his head, sheepishly transferring 110,000 to V.

Now, the trio's accounts stood at:

Jackie: 10,000 (owes V 100,000).

Leo: 10,000 (owes V 270,000).

V: 340,000.

After transferring the money, Jackie and Leo exchanged glances through the rearview mirror, sighing in unison.

"There's one more thing—Padre got us VIP status at The Afterlife. We can plan a visit— Tomorrow and the day after won't work; I've got classes during the day and need to handle some meds at night. Oh, and the day after tomorrow's booked too; I'm meeting with Kang Tao's people."

"The Afterlife!"

Jackie's gloom vanished, replaced by sudden excitement, his face flushing as he leaned in from the back seat.

The guy must've forgotten his own strength—the car dipped suddenly, the chassis scraping the road and leaving a white streak.

"Damn! That's The Afterlife! And you still want to go to class?!"

"Keep it down, Jackie," Leo scratched his ear. "It's just a drink."

"You don't get it..."

On the way back, Jackie kept educating Leo and V about the legends of Afterlife Nightclub.

Finally, he seemed to tire, reclining against the seatback, watching the setting sun and the trailing Valentino convoy, murmuring:

"The feeling of being the boss..."

V glanced at Jackie through the rearview mirror, smiling, "With that look on your face, people might think you just came back from Cloudtop with a doll."

"Indeed—don't go acting foolish again."

But Leo wasn't sure if he'd even make it to The Afterlife for the first time.

[Unstable energy explosion imminent. Please prepare.]