Chapter 28: Making Moves

The bar discriminates against men and charge a $15 admission fee. Martin paid the fee and entered the bar. He approached the counter and ordered a glass of beer while quickly surveying the establishment.

The business area was smaller than that of the Hulk Mansion. On stage and in cages, numerous women danced sensually to the accompaniment of hip-hop music.

"Hi, handsome."

Suddenly, a woman approached, striking up a conversation and pointing at Martin. She told the bartender, "Get him a Long Island iced tea cocktail; it's on me."

After placing the drink order, the woman examined Martin closely, sensing familiarity. She inquired, "Is it you? What brings you here?"

Martin recognized her from the Hulk Mansion earlier in the evening. He replied casually, "I'm here to sample other people's drinks and learn from the best."

The woman playfully grabbed Martin's arm and gestured to her friends behind her, saying, "Ladies, look who's here."

Five women in their thirties and forties quickly gathered around.

They had been eyeing the handsome bartender from the House of Beasts for some time.

One of the women addressed Martin directly, saying, "Handsome, come with us."

Although the invitation was tempting, Martin knew his work wasn't finished. He declined firmly, saying, "I can't stay long. I need to get back soon, or my boss might fire me."

Martin gave a decisive refusal to avoid getting entangled further.

Seeing his determination, the women swiftly moved on to others in the bar.

Martin breathed a sigh of relief, then observed the dance floor and noticed numerous couples forming and leaving the bar quickly.

After finishing his beer, he exited the black bar, crossed the street, and returned to the entrance of the Hulk Mansion. He called Ivan and asked, "I recall the club received a batch of lapel badges for free giveaways to customers, right?"

Ivan confirmed, "Yes, they've arrived and are in the warehouse."

Realizing he needed more examples, Martin decided, "Tomorrow, distribute them to customers upon entry. Ask them to wear the badge on their collars to get free beer. Let the boss know about it."

The golden retriever couldn't contain his curiosity, asking, "Boss Martin, what's your plan?"

Martin had just formulated an idea but needed to verify its feasibility. Unlike the intricate strategies involving the media and various factions before, this time he didn't want to test low-level individuals, including himself, with a $10,000 bonus. It was neither responsible for oneself nor for others.

Upon entering the club, Martin informed Vincent about the badges to be distributed to customers, assuring him that there shouldn't be any issues when they start giving them away tomorrow.

Vincent inquired, "Have you figured out a solution?"

Martin delved into the complexities, "It's a vague concept. I need more details to flesh it out."

Last time, Martin had instilled confidence in Vincent, and the boss suggested, "You can make use of the club's resources."

Compared to other avenues, Vincent had faith in the club he controlled entirely. At least he was confident there wouldn't be any issues with his share.

Martin descended to the lower level. It was getting late, and customers were gradually leaving.

Bruce had taken some time off and inquired, "Have you come up with a plan?"

Martin shook his head, finding it challenging. He asked, "Have you been busy during the day recently?"

Bruce responded, "Collecting debts in a civilized manner in the morning, and I've had some free time in the afternoon."

Martin nodded, "Could you do me a favor? Find out which tabloid is favored by men in Atlanta and see if you can establish contact with their reporters."

Upon hearing "media" and "reporters," Bruce's interest was piqued. "Are we making extra money again?"

Martin looked at him with disdain, "Bruce, you're a man of culture; why are you so fixated on money?" He clarified, "You probably won't get any extra cash from this."

Bruce's enthusiasm waned, "I'll let you know if I find anything."

After finishing work at the club, as was his routine, Martin got into his Ford sedan, observed for a while, and then departed.

...

In the second-floor office, Vincent inquired, "What has Martin been up to?"

The golden retriever, who had earlier referred to Martin as "boss," twitched his nose and responded, "I discussed with Ivan the issue of the old man across the street at the bar. I told Ivan not to make racial discrimination comments that could cause problems for the club."

Vincent nodded thoughtfully. He found that Martin, this troublemaker, was much more capable than his father.

The golden retriever added, "After that, Martin visited the opposite bar and then returned to inform Ivan about the badges."

Vincent mulled it over but couldn't make sense of it. He instructed, "You may leave for the day and report any developments promptly."

The golden retriever acknowledged, "Yes, boss."

...

Around noon, Martin gathered his tools and prepared to start working. While working on his craft, he remembered the Hollywood film crew and decided to call Jerome.

Jerome had some Hollywood connections, and Martin asked him to find information about Kelly Gray's friend, the female production manager Andrew had mentioned. He was also interested in any related details.

Meanwhile, inside the house, Elena was peacefully sleeping but soon found herself tumbling into a deep pit. In the pit, a scruffy-looking man greeted her warmly, "Hello, dear niece."

Elena jolted awake and sat up, noting Martin's rickety bed creaking, on the brink of collapsing. She glanced outside through the window and felt a chilly breeze. Hastily, she located Martin's shirt and put it on before leaving the living room.

Upon reaching the front door, Elena leaned against the frame and noticed Martin in the yard, busy sawing wood. She asked, "What are you doing, you fool?"

Martin wiped his brow and explained, "The bed is falling apart, and it needs reinforcement."

Elena recognized the wood and inquired, "Where did you get this?"

Martin continued working, "The fence in the church cemetery was too dense, making it inconvenient for grave robbers. Being a good Samaritan, I dismantled some of it."

The Carter family was accustomed to such activities, so Elena wasn't overly concerned. However, Martin's lack of skill irked her, and she remarked, "You look utterly useless doing this by hand. Lily and Hall could handle it better. Lily came back earlier today; perhaps she can assist you."

Martin, recalling Lily's sharp tongue, shook his head. "Do you know what kind of comments that idiot Lily would make if she were here? She'd probably say something like, 'Martin, your bed has holes like broken chair legs...'"

Elena flung her slipper at him, urging, "Get to work, and stop your nonsense!"

Martin tossed aside the handsaw, brushed off the sawdust, and, with a grin, grabbed Elena, leading her back into the house. "Alright, no more nonsense. Let's get to work!"

The two of them later headed out in the afternoon. Elena planned to help out at the Methodist church and receive free food in return.

Martin inquired, "Is everything okay there?"

Elena knew what Martin meant, responding, "Both sides are staunch enemies. When one side stages a protest, the other side immediately follows. No one believes that I, a poor loser, can make any difference."

She retrieved her chastity ring and donned it, a determined look in her eyes. "Just give me some space and drop me off a little further down. We don't want those idiots spotting you."

Before Martin could set Elena down, he received a call from Bruce, informing him that things were taking shape. "Come over at 4:30 PM," Bruce reminded him. "Municipal maintenance vehicles are blocking the front entrance, so park at the back. I've left it accessible for you."

"Got it," Martin replied. With some time to spare, he dropped Elena off and decided to head directly to the Baka Community.

Bruce's back door was open, allowing Martin to enter the house. As he proceeded towards the living room, he heard some activity in the bedroom. Upon calling out, "Bruce!" 

In the midst of his sentence, he cast a brief glance into the room but promptly retreated, apologizing, "My apologies, Monica, I didn't realize you were in there."