The South City night market was ablaze with lights.
Beneath a streetlamp at the corner, three figures stood ramrod straight, their presence icy and intimidating.
In the middle stood Lin Dagou, his slicked-back hair gleaming, the zipper of his black jacket pulled up to his chest, both hands in his pockets. His eyes were cold, and his whole bearing declared four words: Don't mess with me.
On either side of him stood Dazhuang and A Zui. One had every muscle tensed and looked fierce as a demon; the other wore a stern expression and affected a profound air.
Unaware passersby instinctively took the long way around, thinking, Where did these gangland bosses come from? Their presence is terrifying.
Only Lin Dagou knew the truth.
The three of them were nothing but paper tigers, all bluster and posturing.
“Brother Gou, Brother Hu's crew is coming over. There are six of them, and they look pretty fierce,” A Zui said in a lowered voice, trying to sound composed, though his voice trembled slightly.
Dazhuang swallowed. Even his muscles were starting to stiffen. “B-Brother, maybe... maybe we should try talking it out first?”
Lin Dagou furrowed his brow and put on the cold, aloof expression befitting a boss. He lowered his voice, his presence reaching its peak. “What are you panicking for? Remember our rules: never let them see you back down, and talk as tough as you can. If it really comes to a fight... just run faster than them.”
That was the time-honored survival rule he'd come up with after two years in the underworld.
