Bald Seven leaned back in his chair, legs propped on the table, staring straight at a frail-looking man across from him. The man, feeling uneasy under his gaze, chuckled awkwardly, "Brother Seven, the cops have been tight recently. It's lucky I could bring this over; it's one pound of goods."
After speaking, the man took out a black bag and opened it. Inside were small bags of white powder. Bald Seven signaled to a younger member behind him, who promptly took out a bundle of cash from a briefcase and threw it on the table. Bald Seven took the white powder, opened a small bag, smeared a little with his finger, and put it in his mouth, nodding: "Tell your boss to bring more next time. Don't worry about me not having money, got it."
"Yes, yes," the frail man nodded repeatedly.
Bald Seven waved his hand: "Grab the money and roll, don't let anyone see you."
Just as the frail man was about to grab the money, a shout came from the shadows: "Police, freeze!"
