"Damn it, when will this miserable life ever end?" Chen Jianjun shook the rotten vegetable juice off his hand, his inner complaints showing no sign of stopping. Three days after transmigrating, he had received no golden finger at all. Instead, he had become the lowest-ranking nobody under Da Fei, the boss of Hung Hing in Yau Ma Tei. He didn't even have a street name. All he did was scrub off grease, run errands to buy cigarettes, stand night watch, and take out the trash. He was nothing but cannon fodder, disposable at any moment.
The original owner of this body had the same name as him. With no connections and no strength, he'd lived worse than a weed in Yau Ma Tei. "Jianjun! Brother Fei wants you! Get your ass over here!" A Qiang's coarse shout came from the alley entrance, his contempt stinging like a needle. Chen Jianjun didn't dare dawdle. He brushed the dust off himself, tugged at his faded denim jacket with holes in the cuffs, and hurried toward Fei's Tea Stall at the alley entrance.
The tea stall was Da Fei's main stronghold. It was filled with smoke, and Hung Hing lackeys crowded every seat. The moment Chen Jianjun walked in, several scrutinizing, mocking gazes swept over him. In the eyes of the slightly better-off lackeys, he was an easy target they could push around. Suppressing his discomfort, he lowered his head and made his way through the crowd to the booth at the very back. Da Fei, wearing a black tank top that showed off his sturdy arms, lounged in his chair with a cigarette between his lips. The huge gold ring on his finger gleamed, and his expression was so grim that none of the lackeys around him dared even breathe too loudly.
