Chapter 38 — This Time, Terry Is Really Going to Eat Shit
The car door was halfway open.
William heard the noise and glanced over.
He didn't recognize a single face—
but the wave caps they all wore were unmistakable.
In the South Side, anyone bold enough to openly walk around in a wave cap like that…
was definitely a gang member.
In the original plot, Carl even joined this gang once—
the one dealing mainly in drugs and guns.
Click.
William calmly shut the car door again.
"What do you want with me?"
He looked at the group of gang members without the slightest trace of fear.
When gangs showed up like this, it was never good news.
But with the Self-Healing Factor, William wasn't exactly worried.
His composure clearly rubbed them the wrong way.
Since when did South Side gangs fail to intimidate one random dude?
"We heard you been sellin' marijuana and guns on our turf."
Even gangsters needed a pretext.
William frowned.
He hadn't been selling locally at all—there shouldn't have been any conflict with neighborhood gangs.
Yet here they were, confronting him.
There was only one explanation:
Terry had snitched.
[Ding!
New Task Detected:
Terry, out of petty revenge, leaked your information to the Black gang.
Teach Terry an unforgettable lesson.
Reward: U.S. Military Standard Firearms (10-person loadout).]
Good grief.
It really was that bastard Terry.
William sighed, then looked back at the gang members with a calm expression.
"So, how exactly do you want to handle this?"
"Get off our turf.
And if we see you sellin' weed here again—"
The leader drew a thumb across his throat.
"Next time, you're dead."
With what he believed was an impressively dramatic gesture, he turned around and led the group away.
William blinked.
"…That's it?"
He shook his head, incredulous.
He'd expected a fight—
but these guys were all bark and no bite.
Just showed up, issued a warning, and ran off.
Honestly, that made things easier for him.
He opened the car door again and got into the driver's seat.
Time to deal with Terry—the snitching son of a bitch.
William loved revenge efficient and immediate.
Looked over in the direction of the Alibi Room.
He opened the door once more and stepped back out.
---
Inside the Alibi Room
Terry was playing Texas Hold'em with a bunch of drunks.
He never expected the Black gang to actually harm William—
but leaking his info had felt like a satisfying little act of vengeance.
He was about to learn otherwise.
As long as the two sides clashed, no matter who lost, Terry would profit.
As the head of the largest white gang in the South Side—the Milkovich family—
being at odds with the Black gangs was practically their family motto.
And even though it was already 2010,
America still had no shortage of little mustache enthusiasts.
Especially in poor white neighborhoods.
So the Milkovich family still maintained a strong presence in the South Side's white districts.
---
Ding-a-ling.
The bar door swung open.
William stepped inside.
"Huh? Back again?"
Kevin raised an eyebrow, curious why William had returned so soon.
"Looking for someone. Need to talk."
William ignored him and walked straight toward Terry's table.
Terry glanced up when he saw William approach.
"Terry. Outside. We need to talk."
Out of respect for Kevin, William hadn't chosen to start a fight inside the bar.
Hearing that, Terry felt a flicker of fear deep down—
but with all these people watching, his pride kicked in.
"Can't you see I'm playing cards?"
He turned away and kept playing Texas Hold'em.
William casually looked at the Milkovich men gathered around the table.
Dragging Terry out right now would turn the entire bar into a warzone.
At that moment, Kevin hurried over and clapped a hand on William's shoulder.
"Hey, bro, what's going on?"
Even Kevin—simple as he was—could tell William had come looking for trouble.
And he couldn't let a fight break out in his bar.
"Relax, Kevin. It's nothing,"
William said calmly before pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table.
His simple action instantly drew every eye around the poker table.
"What? I can't join the game?"
If they wanted to hide behind the excuse of a card game…
then he'd destroy their little card game.
Besides, ever since obtaining Gambling Mastery, he hadn't used it once.
The men exchanged glances.
None of them objected.
Terry's grim expression suddenly brightened.
He shot a meaningful wink to the others.
His loyal crew understood immediately.
You can't beat him in a fight? So what?
You can still cheat him at cards.
Terry's internal monologue be like:
"We'll cheat the hell out of you—what can you do about it?"
Of course, William saw every signal exchanged right in front of him.
Cheating?
Perfect.
Let's see who's better at cheating.
And so, the crooked game began.
---
Ten Minutes Later
Terry stared at William's straight flush with utter disbelief.
"You goddamn CHEATED!"
This hand should've been his victory.
He had a full house—
and had successfully baited William into going all-in.
Naturally, Terry had gone all-in as well.
But at the last second, William flipped over two cards Terry never expected—
combining with the community cards to form a straight flush.
Impossible.
Terry's guy dealt the cards.
They had rigged the whole deck.
By all logic, William's cards should've only formed a flush.
And Terry's full house should've crushed him.
How the hell did it become a straight flush!?
Terry scratched his head like it was on fire.
He couldn't fathom that William's gambling skills were far beyond his crew's cheap tricks.
"Food can be eaten carelessly, but words can't be spoken carelessly, Terry.
If you want to accuse someone of cheating, bring evidence."
William's tone was icy.
"Now that your money's gone…
can we go outside and talk?"
William's cold stare made Terry instinctively shiver.
A primal fear crept up from deep inside him.
"Fuck you! I'll 'talk' to your dead body!"
Terry flipped the entire table over.
He stood up, ready to fight.
His lackeys had already checked—William wasn't carrying a gun.
And if William didn't have a gun, Terry wasn't afraid.
"HEY! No fighting in here!"
Kevin shouted.
But Terry wasn't listening.
He lifted a fist—
And then:
A cold, hard piece of metal pressed silently against his forehead.
Terry froze instantly.
He stopped breathing.
"Go on," William said softly.
"Guess whether I'll pull the trigger."
His eyes…
were the eyes of someone staring at a corpse.