Niko grabbed Erick by the shoulder. "See? Told you he's the real deal."
Although it sounded like a compliment, Shane didn't take it that way. Not even close.
People like them were trash. Cowards who only knew how to prey on the weak, because beyond that, they had no real value.
Real strength meant living free.
No chains.
No leash wrapped around his throat.
And no being shoved into dirty work just to earn the right to live.
"No more playing around. Let's go," Leon interjected.
By the time they reached the market, things had started slowing down.
A handful of stalls still clung to the night, refusing to shut down. Probably hoping for a few more sales, anything to stay afloat. With how fucked the economy was, every coin mattered.
Shane looked around as red paper lanterns swayed overhead, spilling warm light into tight alleys boxed in by leaning storefronts and glowing shop windows.
Neon signs buzzed beneath the lanterns, their colors glowing into the pavement and reflecting off rain-stained stone.
The air smelled like a heavy mix of grease, sugar, and everything else poured to make authentic food.
"Man, this place is busy all the time," Erick grinned. "Those foreigners really know how to make a good chao fan."
"And the girls aren't half bad, either." He laughed, glancing at two students with slender, delicate eyes, their features hinting at their heritage—a familiar sight in this part of town.
"Kid, you've got taste. They moan louder too!" Niko joined in, his words rough and brash, making anyone within earshot uncomfortable.
"Bro, is it true they're tighter too?" Erick added, smirking.
"Damn right!. You have to go easy on them or you'll break them. The one last week couldn't walk right after. She makes these little mewing sounds when it hurts, like a kitten. It's cute."
Shane gritted his teeth quietly. He hated hearing people reduce others to objects—he knew that feeling all too well.
"That's the place," Leon pointed, a cigarette dangling from his finger
A single shop at the far end still had its lights on. Pale light buzzed behind the glass.
Niko banged on the glass twice, then kicked it with the heel of his boot. The frame rattled before giving in.
An old man stood inside, apron still on. His face lost color as soon as he saw who walked in.
His youngest son stood behind him. Couldn't have been older than twenty. Skinny, nervous, wearing a baseball cap that sagged low over his ears.
Leon was the first to speak. "Mr. Cheng. You missed your payment."
"I...I know. I just need one more week, please." his voice shook. "Business has been slow. I'm not running—"
"We don't fucking care." Leon shoved him back.
"Maybe we take your son as interest. Or maybe—" his grin widened, ugly and perverted, "—you've got that beautiful daughter who study in the university. Yeah. She would definitely do well in our bar."
"No! don't touch them! I just need time, please. I swear I'll pay—"
Leon slammed him into the wall. One hand at his throat. The other pulled a knife halfway from his belt.
"Dad!" the young man yelled, scrambling forward.
Erick yanked him back by the collar and threw him into the table, knocking them over with a crash.
"You see this, Mr. Cheng ? This is what happens when you don't pay on time." Leon grabbed the old man by the collar and punched his face repeatedly.
The old man crumpled to the floor, nose and mouth bleeding.
"I'll pay… please, don't hurt us anymore." he crawled behind the counter and opened the register with trembling hands.
He held the stacks of bills out with both hands like some desperate offering to a god.
This was the reality of the world. While the privilege enjoyed their lives in comfort, the poor fed on one another.
Leon grabbed the money, flipped through it, then scoffed. "Still short."
The old man fell to his knees, forehead pressed to the floor. "Please... I'll pay the rest next week. That's all I've got."
Leon looked over his shoulder. "You got anything to add, Shane? Or just gonna keep watching us do all your work?"
The old man and his son looked at Shane as if he were to blame. Their eyes carried accusation, even though he did nothing more than listen to their pleas.
He sighed bitterly. The world truly was unfair.
"Let's just get out of here." He turned and walked away, done humoring them—or maybe it was the victims' looks that made his chest tighten with discomfort.
Niko chuckled. "Hey, Mr. Cheng. Our kid's a bit of a soft guy. When he comes by next week to collect, make sure you pay him so we don't have to show up and beat the shit out of you."
"Yes... yes..." the old man repeated, like a broken radio.
Meanwhile, his son stared at them, eyes burning with anger. All this over some blown-up debt.
"Hey, kid." Niko stepped closer. "If you want revenge, grow some balls first. I would be happy to beat the crap out of you any day."
Mr. Cheng bowed his head again. "Please, he's still young. He doesn't understand how the world works yet. I'll make sure to scold him later."
Wise decision. Antagonizing a few street thugs wouldn't solve anything. More would just show up, and doing business here would only get harder.
"You better discipline your boy," Niko scoffed. "Otherwise, you'll find him gutted in a alley for forgetting his place."