Chapter 31: Magical Operation

"Hey, the entrance fee is $15," Ivan and a Golden Retriever were stationed at the club's entrance, collecting money from patrons. With each payment, they issued a stern warning, "No fooling around inside. Find your fun elsewhere."

Scott, growing impatient in the queue, shouted, "We get it, no need for the lecture! I'll make sure to bring someone out just to tease you!"

The eager crowd couldn't wait to enter the electric atmosphere of the club. However, besides the ticket, striking up a conversation required buying a drink, adding to the expenses.

Martin switched from mixing cocktails to selling beer alongside Bruce due to the overwhelming crowd. Generous tips flowed in from male customers.

As Scott entered, he spotted Martin behind the bar, and old rivalries reignited. Thinking about his wife, who had been taken by Jack Davis, he confronted Martin, "You're working here, idiot!"

Martin glanced at him, replying, "I'm busy, do what you want."

Scott, with a different thought process, raised his voice, exclaiming, "Martin's dad seduced my wife and ran off without paying..."

The surrounding patrons looked at Scott as if he were an alien. Considering Elena, Martin poured a glass of beer for Scott, saying, "I'm treating you."

Scott accepted and took a sip, remarking, "This is something."

He then departed, all that fuss for a free drink.

Bruce approached Martin, asking, "Dad, is he even more of a jerk than you?"

Martin chuckled, "I'm a saint compared to him."

Bruce inquired, "I really want to meet your dad, see how impressive he is."

Martin quipped, "He can't lick posters, let alone soak them in bathwater and drink them."

Bruce retorted, "I hope you enjoy a lifetime of being down-to-earth!"

Martin, unapologetic, replied, "You're just jealous!"

Bruce decided to let the conversation rest; Martin's thick skin could withstand anything.

Inside the club, successful pairs quickly left, and more patrons streamed in, reducing the queue outside.

Ivan grabbed the walkie-talkie, requesting, "Boss, we need someone to collect the money here."

Dana arrived with two assistants, relieving Ivan and Golden Retriever of the nearly overflowing bags of cash and leaving a guard with a firearm.

Across the street, twenty men watched couples exiting the club intimately, feeling a growing restlessness.

Fred pointed to the other side of the road, saying to his companions, "Those guys, they bring people out within five minutes. Seems..."

His companion interjected, "Easy, right?"

Another person suggested, "Should we try?"

Fred gestured toward the Golden Retriever, "They're doing the same as us, charging an entrance fee. Do any of you have money?"

Silence followed; perhaps they could scrape together $20 among the twenty of them.

But witnessing men exiting the bar across.What if you're broke? They might not have money, but they've got a peculiar tradition.

Fred glanced back at the entrance of the black bar. Since fewer people were entering, there was only one Latino guy left, collecting money.

The Latino guy had a wallet strapped to his waist and held a stack of five-dollar bills.

Fred noticed that a few of his buddies were eyeing the situation and whispered, "Shall we go for it?"

"Let's do it!" They had grown up with this mentality: "The old-fashioned way."

Fred nodded and took the lead. He approached the Latino guy and said, "Hey, man, got a cigarette? Give me one."

The Latino guy, aware that this was a new recruit for the boss, stepped closer, grabbed a cigarette, and said, "Bring your own next time."

Three of Fred's companions skillfully maneuvered around to the other side of the Latino guy. Just as he sensed something was amiss and turned around, a brick struck him on the head.

Fred grabbed the money, and the other two quickly grabbed his wallets. Seeing that the Latino guy was unconscious, they discreetly moved him aside against the wall and dashed across the road together.

The rest followed suit.

They didn't concern themselves with the future or long-term plans.

Inside the noisy bar, no one paid any attention to the door. From the perspective of the bar's patrons, there was no one outside, just 21 individuals. Even if there was a robbery, they had the upper hand.

As for passersby, who cared if some big guys were robbing people?

The queue at the Hulk Mansion wasn't long. Fred and his crew paid $300 for tickets and entered the club.

.....

In the bar, Boyette stood by the second-floor railing, realizing that something was amiss.

"Have you noticed the decrease in customer traffic tonight?" He glanced at the bar's entrance. "The ladies from across the street haven't shown up? And there are many people leaving?"

Diego furrowed his brow. "There should have been a big crowd over there before we opened."

Boyette lowered his head and examined the situation. "Customer traffic is down by 30% compared to usual."

He waved to the bartender below, calling for someone to come up.

The bartender rushed up. "Boss?"

Boyette asked, "Why is there so little traffic tonight?"

"There were plenty of people earlier, almost the same as usual." The bartender overheard patrons at the bar talking. "I heard them say that the Hulks Mansion starts admitting male customers at ten o'clock, and those who left went there."

Diego reacted swiftly. "No wonder the folks across the street aren't showing up." He patted the railing. "Whoever thought of this strategy is undoubtedly a sly one, and he understands how a pervert thinks too well!"

Boyette quickly walked to the window facing the street, drew the curtains aside, and observed the other side. There weren't many men waiting in line at the Hulk Mansion, but their numbers were increasing. Couples kept emerging.

It didn't matter if business was booming on the other side; they were essentially stealing their own customers.

Boyette grew agitated. "I'm going to find the idiot who came up with this ridiculous idea and remove his kidneys!"

Two individuals hurried upstairs from below. The Latino guy behind them clutched his head, his face covered in blood.

Boyette was furious. "What happened now?"

The Latino guy, gripping the railing, explained, "Boss, those twenty jerks robbed us! They took our wallets!"

"What?" Boyette reached for his gun.

Diego swiftly restrained Boyette, preventing him from drawing his weapon in anger. "Where are they?"

The Latino guy said, "I got knocked out, and when I came to, they were gone."

Diego kept Boyette calm. "Take it easy! Take it easy! Let's first figure out where they went."

Boyette withdrew his hand, sniffed the air, and became more alert. "Never mind the other side for now; find those twenty jerks for me!"

...

Inside the House of Beasts, when twenty sturdy black men entered, Martin immediately took notice and signaled Bruce.

Bruce handed Martin a bottle of wine, then turned to the wine cabinet and picked up the intercom. "Tom, keep an eye on those big black guys. Don't intervene unless they cause trouble."

He then inquired at the door, "Ivan, what happened with the black guys?"

"They paid the fee, and after checking with the boss, he let them in." Ivan wanted to stop them, but the boss had given the green light.

Bruce understood that if he denied them entry, it could lead to a racial discrimination issue, which would be quite complicated.

The old gangsters didn't cause any trouble; they flirted with female patrons and even approached for a beer.

Before long, several female patrons followed the group of black men and left.

Martin conversed with the black guy who asked for a beer and remarked to Bruce, "He's from South City, helping out at the bar across the street."

Bruce inquired, "Across the street? What are they up to?"

When he finished work that evening, Golden Retriever brought the latest news. People from the black bar were searching for those old black men.

"They say the bar owner, Boyette, brought them here from the hood specifically to lure our customers. But it seems those old gangsters couldn't control their urges, so they robbed the bar's money and came here to spend it." Martin chuckled, "When it comes to seduction, the old gangsters are experts."

But Bruce warned the bar security, "Keep an eye on the other side; if they cause trouble, be ready."