Running Smoothly

After providing his statement to the police and reclaiming his belongings from Ryder, Arslan chose to lay low for the following two days. Sensing the weight of suspicion lingering in the air, he made a conscious decision to avoid drawing any unwarranted attention to himself. The watchful gaze of the law enforcement officers seemed to linger on him, their skepticism palpable as they scrutinized the narrative of a simple robbery that Arslan had presented.

The cops found it odd that the criminals would choose to rob Arslan's small apartment. It just didn't fit the usual pattern, as most robberies tended to target larger houses, not places like his, Even in his neighborhood.

Arslan, keenly aware of the heightened police presence in the area in recent days, took extra precautions to maintain a low profile. He limited his movements to a strict routine of commuting from work to his new apartment, a deliberate effort to avoid drawing any undue attention. Conscious of the risks, he made a point to steer clear of the strip club where he discreetly stashed a significant portion of his earnings, determined to keep his financial affairs under wraps.

After two days of surveillance, the police officers eventually relented, realizing the futility of shadowing a seemingly unremarkable young man. Recognizing more pressing matters that warranted their attention, they decided to redirect their resources elsewhere, bringing a sense of relief to Arslan. With a deep exhale, he felt the weight of scrutiny lift, allowing him to exhale a sigh of relief as he could finally resume his daily routine without the constant watchful eyes of law enforcement.

Arslan, having come out of the situation mostly unscathed, casually strolled through the neighborhood. Spotting Ryder at Marco's old corner, overseeing the sale of the stolen goods they had, Arslan casually greeted him, recognizing the hustle of the streets they both started together.

"Hey, you finally showed up," Ryder remarked upon spotting Arslan, greeting him with a friendly slap on the back before sizing him up with a nod of acknowledgment.

"Well, you know me, had to watch my back with those cops tailing me everywhere," Arslan explained, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets and scanning their surroundings. "It's funny how they suddenly become so invested when it's about a simple robbery and attack on me, but when it's something serious, they're nowhere to be found," he remarked to Ryder, who chuckled when he heard that.

"Bro, no one is here, so drop the act,"Ryder quipped, nudging Arslan as he grinned in response.

"They came at us guns blazing through that door," Arslan attempted to explain, but Ryder's laughter only grew louder, finding amusement in Arslan's demeanor.

"Can you blame them?" Ryder interjected, his tone more serious now. "We took out their guys, raided their stash, and taunted them to their faces. What did you expect? Retaliation was inevitable once they pieced it together," Ryder reasoned, prompting Arslan to simply shrug in acknowledgment, realizing the gravity of their actions and the consequences that followed.

"Whatever," Arslan remarked nonchalantly before turning his attention to the crew managing affairs alongside them. "How's everything going around here? Any issues showing up yet?" he asked, his tone casual yet attentive.

Ryder shook his head in response. "Nah, smooth sailing so far," he assured Arslan, exuding confidence in their operations.

"What about the stash?" Arslan probed, asking about the storage of their products and where Ryder had been keeping them. 

"We're all set on that front. I got an apartment outside the neighborhood, close to the police station like you suggested. It's safe, far from the eyes of the bastards," Ryder explained, recognizing the strategic advantage of being close to law enforcement in safeguarding their goods from rival dealers or opportunistic thieves.

Arslan furrowed his brow in mild annoyance as he glanced at his phone, a notification demanding his attention. "Tsk..." he clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he read the message from Elijah, reminding him of the impending fight scheduled in a few days.

The opponent, Franky from the Bronx, was an unfamiliar name to Arslan, known only by his moniker, 'The Bulldozer.' Amidst the tumultuous events that had engulfed his life recently, Arslan had let the fight slip from his mind, realizing he was unprepared and lacking any knowledge or training for the upcoming bout.

Arslan recalled an intriguing item he had noticed in a nearby store, prompting him to bid farewell to Ryder, who stood by his side. "Yo, I'm off to the gym. Give me a call if you need anything," he informed Ryder before departing from the location.

As Arslan made his way to the gym, he accessed the system and navigated to the shop where the coveted item he sought was waiting for him.

[Street Intel] - Reveals information about rival gangs or upcoming fights.

Price: 500$

He swiftly located the item he was searching for in the shop. With a quick click, a new window appeared, prompting him to enter the name of the individual or gang he sought information about.

Arslan typed in the man's name, only to be presented with another unexpected request for payment. Puzzled, he hesitated momentarily before retrieving $500 from his wallet and inserted it into the virtual interface, watching as the money vanished into thin air.

"This is strange," Arslan muttered, perplexed by the unusual transaction. The window vanished, replaced by a 'Claim' button, which he instinctively pressed, half expecting another pop up.

To his surprise, a tangible piece of paper materialized before him, suspended in the air. Arslan eagerly reached out and seized it, scanning the contents that held all the crucial information he had been seeking.

[Opponent Profile: Franky "The Bulldozer"]

- Background

- Location: The Bronx

- Fighting Style: Brawler (focused on raw strength and aggression)

- Affiliation: Fights in Don Vito's underground fighting circle, known for high stakes and brutal competition.

- Traits

-Brutal: Franky is known for his relentless fighting style, often overwhelming opponents with sheer force.

- Intimidating Presence: His size and demeanor make him a fearsome figure in the ring, often causing opponents to hesitate.

- Stubborn: Once he sets his mind on winning, he rarely backs down, even in dire situations.

After perusing the details, Arslan recognized the familiar traits of his new opponent, likening them to the formidable Voragor in both style and strength. Confident in his strategy, he saw no need for significant adjustments to his plan.

Feeling relieved by the revelation, Arslan tucked away the paper upon reaching the gym. Swiftly entering through the door, he immersed himself in training, diligently preparing for the impending challenge that lay ahead in his upcoming fight.

================

In an undisclosed location, a heavily guarded house was manned by a vigilant squad of six men, poised and alert for any potential threats that may arise.

Inside the living room of the house, a man sat on a couch, his hands resting wearily on his head. Two figures loomed over him, their official badges prominently displayed around their necks.

"Eddie, the information you've provided us with thus far has proven fruitless. The stash locations you disclosed regarding Spark turned out to be empty, and the alleged murder weapon in Enzo's case remains elusive," one agent reproached Eddie, his tone edged with frustration.

"We were only able to recover some stolen goods from a separate storage unit, but without direct evidence linking them to your cousin," the other agent added, addressing Eddie with a sense of urgency. Eddie felt the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on him, realizing the gravity of the situation as the case against Mr. Spark seemed to unravel before their very eyes. The agents implored Eddie to offer any shred of information that could salvage their crumbling case.

The federal agents, growing desperate, had conducted a raid on Don Luca's residence in a bid to uncover incriminating evidence, yet their efforts proved futile. The Don was too shrewd to keep any illicit items within arm's reach, leaving the authorities empty-handed.

"As I've stated before, Spark handles the streets, kicking up to Luca, who manages dealings with the other families. I've provided you with names, locations, and insights into Spark's operations. What more do you expect from me?" Eddie asserted, frustration seeping into his voice.

An agent exhaled heavily, lighting a cigarette before addressing Eddie. "We're well aware that you're withholding crucial information," the agent remarked sternly, locking eyes with Eddie. "You have a choice: assist us in securing your cousin's arrest and ensuring your safety, or face the consequences for the shit you have been caught with."

Eddie's heart raced with dread at the thought of facing the brutal reality of life in prison, knowing his status as a marked man among his former associates. He knew he would get immediately killed if he ever was to be sent to prison.

Desperation clawed at Eddie as he wracked his brain for any glimmer of hope, any lifeline to grasp onto in his dire predicament. Suddenly, a flicker of recollection ignited within him as he remembered something that was meaningless to him, but now it could be something else that might help him

He narrowed his gaze to fix upon the two agents before him. "James," Eddie uttered, the name hanging heavily in the air. 

The agents, initially dismissive of James as a minor figure in Spark's operation, leaned back in their seats. However, Eddie's next words sparked a shift in their demeanor, hinting at a revelation that could alter the course of their investigation.

"I might know something that could help you get Spark and another player as well," Intrigued, the agents prodded Eddie for more details, eager to unravel the web of connections that could bring down their targets.

With a wicked smile, Eddie leaned forward, his eyes glinting with newfound purpose as he dropped the name that could potentially change the course of their investigation.

"Elijah," Eddie declared, the name hanging in the air like a heavy shroud. A moment of silence enveloped the room as the agents exchanged meaningful glances before turning their attention back to Eddie.

"We're listening," the agents urged, their anticipation palpable. 

Eddie, brimming with newfound confidence, began to divulge the information he knew, each word meticulously recorded by the agents, their expressions reflecting a mix of satisfaction and determination.