Chapter 52: Chapter 52: Stray Dogs
The girl silently tidied her hair, trying to cover the scar on her forehead.
"A scumbag."
The purple-haired girl smoking answered.
She put her clothes back on, her gaze suddenly becoming somewhat indifferent.
"Look at me and just be honest, do you want to screw me?" the purple-haired girl stared at John intently, yet her tone was very calm. "Neither of us wants to work tonight."
"Need any help?"
John asked again.
"Shh~"
The purple-haired girl interrupted him, exhaling smoke.
"You think you’re a hero? Asking with a savior complex is really f*cked up, though you do look pretty decent... but this city is dirtier than a toilet, and once you’re in, everyone’s the same... so don’t look at me with those eyes."
Ding—
The elevator doors opened.
They wrapped themselves in cloaks and walked out, unceremoniously swallowed by the neon lights, soaking in the dazzling nightlife until their bodies merged into the shadows.
[Dan Street - Bolago Club]
Silver Rider 577 parked in the VIP slot.
John experienced many incidents every day, but he didn’t disrupt his plan—to visit Mr. Vito.
He wore a loose hydrophobic work jacket, paired with a bulletproof vest and shirt underneath, looking like a street-hardened mercenary, yet he could smoothly pass the security scan with his membership identity, entering the heart of the club where elites gathered.
The VIP area was located at the northern part of the large shopping mall.
The interior facilities were extravagantly luxurious compared to the outer commercial area, and both the security and waitstaff were very professional.
As the largest money-burning hole for the elite in the West District, it could offer all kinds of specialty services imaginable; regular auctions are held monthly, and company executives often host banquets here.
John walked into Mr. Vito’s office.
The Black Gold Gang is one of the biggest syndicates in Eden City, and Mr. Vito, as the Speaker, holds immense power and status.
"Sit down, John, care for a drink?"
"Make it light."
Vito rolled up his sleeves, revealing a metallic arm, and twisted open the cap of a glass bottle.
He filled a glass with wine and cut himself a cigar.
John swirled his whiskey glass, gulping down the vibrant liquid in one go, feeling a buzz in his head, as if there was a fire in his chest.
"The kick from the stimulants is quite strong."
"You really should upgrade your digestive system... alcohol’s not just a tool for you to survive in the streets."
Vito was wearing a high-end black velvet vest today, with a shirt made of a composite fiber weave underneath, the collar long enough and sharp enough to assert authority.
"Once you’ve stayed in the city long enough, seen enough absurd things, all that’s left to listen to you... are the various strong liquors lined up on the bar."
John shook his head, getting straight to the point,
"I’m really sorry about the thing in the basement, is there anything I can do to help?"
Mr. Vito, sitting on the leather sofa, crossed his legs, scrutinizing the young man before him through the cigar smoke.
"Plenty of people come in and out of my office every day, John, most are here to ask for something or for me to clean up their mess, but you’re the first to voluntarily offer to repay."
Mr. Vito flicked away the cigar smoke.
"I must remind you, for every excellent trait you possess, there’s ten times the danger. Don’t let morality bind you unless you have the strength."
"Do I look like a good person?"
"Who can say? Just follow your heart."
The chandelier above cast its light down.
Mr. Vito’s eyes seemed covered by two dense shadows.
His pupils flickered with a stream of golden data, then he said calmly:
"Since you’re free, go teach a few stray dogs a lesson for me."
[Series Mission Arena: Out of Control Stray Dogs]
[Reward: Compensation, Melee Weapon [Random]]
The underground illegal boxing matches in Eden City are already very mature and expansive, a favorite entertainment activity for all classes.
Every year, countless people are beaten to death in the ring—either gang-raised fighters or mercenaries seeking to climb up.
The bait dangling over them is prize money comparable to a first-class lottery and endless honors.
Either make a name for yourself or get blasted to bits, with bodies wrapped up and tossed into the back alleys amidst gamblers’ curses.
Boxing is one of the economic sources for the Black Gold Gang.
Their power stretches across boxing gyms and fitness centers throughout the city, every bet placed on a head siphoned into their pockets.
Besides signing established fighters, they also cultivate their own rookies.
Mr. Vito planned to place a few promising fighters in a crucial match at the start of the month, but those boxers ran into some trouble midway.
He paused, looking up at John.
"At Macao’s Bandage Boxing Gym, someone beat up the fighters I was grooming."
"F*ck, Eden..."
John rubbed the bridge of his nose.
With Mr. Vito’s methods, he could certainly find out who did it.
But first, Eden held back, and secondly, there’s no need to bother the Harbor Company over a minor incident.
"Were they badly hurt?"
"Just knocked out, but here..."
Vito poked at his heart.
"Those fighters crawled out of the gutters and got here on sheer grit. They can take having their skull cracked, but not being casually tossed in the trash."
Vito frowned, taking a puff of his cigar.
"Their pride and faith are shattered, they need special means to rebuild it. Some unqualified ones will have to be eliminated, but the fight is imminent, I don’t have time to waste."
The Black Gold Gang had rounded up a batch of temporary new boxers from the city’s corners, all fugitives from Europe seeking a living in Eden City.
To be honest, this group did quite well in the ring, including a guy named Hoffman who even tore apart his opponent’s face.
But arrogance followed.
This pack of stray dogs was blinded by colossal fame and fortune, causing trouble everywhere.
Initially, these could be tolerated, but they shouldn’t have colluded with the scouts from Owl Town.
Vito’s murderous intent was clear.
"I showed leniency, and they chose betrayal."
[Mission Objective Update:]
[Go to the outer commercial area to inquire about Hoffman’s location. (Not Achieved)]
John arrived at the ground floor via the VIP area’s elevator, effortlessly finding his way to the Bandage Boxing Gym.
Gino was still clutching a towel, reportedly still tasked with cleaning the gym equipment for two more weeks.
"Macao isn’t here, the boxers he was training ran into trouble recently, he’s been a bit down."
"I’m looking for a boxer named Hoffman."
"Sh*t, why are you looking for that bastard?"
Gino’s expression immediately turned disdainful.
"He and those Germans are a bunch of psychos, f*cking perverts, goddamn it, the fighters who run with him cause trouble everywhere, even the Red Light District on Dan Street refuses to accommodate them."
Gino crossed his arms, frowning deeply.
"Last night Hoffman was high, raped two street girls, and beat them to death in an alley after. It was all blood..."
"Hey, Gino."
John interrupted her narrative.
"Just tell me, where is he?"