Chapter 17 : No one leaves

In the eyes of the burly Russian and the Warehouse boss, Paul had transformed from a ruthless individual into a complete lunatic.

At most, ruthless people would threaten with bombs, intending to die together if necessary. But a lunatic straps on a bomb he can't even control and disregards life and death entirely.

At this moment, neither could predict what Paul might do next. This unsettling feeling deeply penetrated their hearts, making them hesitant to act rashly until they understood his true intentions.

Frightened by Paul, the two bosses abandoned the idea of disarming the bomb.

Returning to the matter at hand, Anatoly asked, "Now that we're sitting and talking, I'd like to ask what business brings you here?"

"Alright, I was just taking a walk, passed by, and got a bit curious, so I came to have a look," Paul said nonchalantly.

The two seemed incredulous. Who would walk around with a bomb strapped to them?

Ignoring their expressions, Paul waved to the surrounding gang members: "Don't worry about me, just continue with your business. Pretend I don't exist, and I'll leave once you're done."

"But the deal ended a while ago," a gang member from the russian group said.

"Then do it again," Paul commanded, crossing his legs. "Inspect the goods for me and count the money. Open your eyes and look carefully. If there's a problem or the amount is incorrect, I'll settle the score with you."

The warehouse men assigned to inspect the goods looked at their leader. Anatoly's men assigned to count the money also glanced at Anatoly.

Does he want us to check our own work?

Hearing that Paul said he would leave, Anatoly gritted his teeth: "Count the money!"

The Warehouse boss took a deep breath: "Inspect the goods."

Seeing that the real boss had spoken, the subordinates had no choice but to obey.

They performed some superficial actions, just for show, thinking they knew their goods and money best. However, their small actions did not escape Paul's notice.

Paul suddenly pointed to a warehouse boy and erupted in fury: "Do you think I'm blind? Claiming there's no problem with that pork. Are your eyes microscopes? I think you're an undercover gang member. Let's see what I'll do today! Get rid of this damned undercover agent!"

Soon, Paul stood up again with a snap, a red light flashing on his chest.

This maniac is going to get us all killed!

The subordinates dropped the pork and money, falling to the ground in terror.

"Forget it!"

The two small bosses were losing their minds, standing up immediately to placate him.

"No way. This person looks like a gang undercover!" Paul said angrily. If the criminal activities are so perfunctory, who knows if it can be counted on the criminal history of these people.

Are you crazy?

Do you really think you're the boss?

Anatoly abruptly stood up, grabbed the innocent man, and beat him in front of Paul. Under his beating, the poor boy fainted from pain.

It was clear that the russian was ruthless at heart, and this resistance alone would definitely make him a big shot in the future.

"You're right. He's an undercover gang member. Now that the matter is resolved, the transaction continues," the Warehouse boss said gruffly. He just wanted to end this farce quickly and send away the lunatic in front of him.

Paul gave a thumbs-up, and the red light calmed down.

With the previous lessons, the subordinates dared not be superficial with Paul anymore.

At least on the surface, they carefully checked the goods and money, occasionally sighing "real goods," "real money," and "real pork," to show Paul how serious they were.

Back in his seat, Paul grabbed the poker on the metal table as if nothing had happened.

"While you're making a deal, why don't we play cards? How about a game of Fight the Landlord?" Paul suggested.

"What's Fight the Landlord?" The two had never heard of it. 

"It's very simple. I'll teach you."

Paul briefly introduced the rules, and the two quickly understood how to play. Then, Paul proposed making it more exciting by using $1,000 as the base chip.

Although neither was interested, under Paul's oppression, they had no choice but to accept this premature proposal. As for the money, it didn't matter. The most important thing they lacked here was cash. If they could, they would rather spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to get rid of this lunatic.

In the first round Paul,with the experience of a veteran player, easily won against the two novices.

Anatoly and the Warehouse boss paid Paul. Their minds were not on the game at all but on their own subordinates.

Seeing their subordinates suddenly stop their movements, their previously dim eyes instantly brightened.

"Look, the inspection is over!" The two hurriedly called out to Paul, who was counting the money.

Paul put away the bills he had won and looked at them casually: "Oh, have you reached a deal?"

"Yes! Very satisfied!" The two nodded without hesitation.

The Anatoly asked tentatively: "According to our agreement, you can leave now, or we, the Russian gang members, can leave."

The Warehouse boss glared at him fiercely. What do you mean, you'll throw this lunatic at us!?

"Actually, that's true," Paul nodded, then changed his tone, "But our landlord game has just started, and we can't be disturbed by such trivial things. Let them continue inspecting the goods and trading again. If we don't get through 20 rounds, no one leaves!"

The two bosses: "???"