Mr. Vito chatted with John for a long ti, and incidentally acquainted him with gang managent and the dynamics of Eden City.
These were topics he had never broached before.
Perhaps it was due to the presence of Oulos that led Mr. Vito to think—the boundaries of their discussion could be broadened.
For soone of his level.
Information cos to him as willingly as a push notification, with all the details he needs to know and pay close attention to.
For lower-level gang mbers and ordinary rcenaries, this information is extrely difficult to obtain.
Eden City has its own rules.
A street Nova only needs to update their implants tily and verify each paynt issued by their employers.
Until they make a na for themselves.
Take soone like John, who starts to access information through various channels. People, intentionally or unintentionally, help him understand so basics, much like Mr. Vito is doing now.
This is a small effort for him.
It’s also a gesture of goodwill.
Mr. Vito said Eden City is infused with capital and sin, and only those with ties to the city’s interests have grounds for developnt.
To put it simply—the gangs seem free, but to sustain so many people, they cannot do without corporate support.
Managing various types of business, how to connect with larger resources to ensure internal developnt...
These are all considerations to be made.
John couldn’t help but complain.
"I joined a gang, working the streets, yet why does it still feel like I’m a corporate dog?"
"There’s a difference, but not much."
Mr. Vito cut off, relit his cigar.
"Did you see the people from Jingke Heavy Industry earlier?"
When the Black Gold Gang was rising, it coincided with the division of the industrial areas post-war in Eden City; Jingke Heavy Industry was a beneficiary of this planning and was also the deeply rooted enterprise in the West District.
Around Eden City’s independence, Jingke and the Black Gold Gang deeply cooperated, mutually providing resources, overtly and covertly clearing away competitors.
As the gang gradually expanded...
Jingke gradually reduced its control over the streets.
But it still influences the Black Gold Gang’s upper echelons like a shareholder, with a say in personnel changes and managent styles.
Owl Town Gang operates similarly.
The Eastern People rely on Raqi Industry.
Unlike the Black Gold Gang, they remain deeply bound to this day.
One could even say the Owl Town Gang is a departnt under Raqi Industry, specializing in—managing grassroots industries, recruiting and nurturing key mbers, smuggling illegal goods, completing dirty work and the like.
Mr. Vito took a glass.
The golden ring on his knuckles lightly tapped against the glass’s edge as the expensive collection-grade liquor swirled in his palm.
"John, I’m glad you ca today, feels like goodwill is being reciprocated, just that alone can take you further than those arrogant street punks."
Mr. Vito placed the lit cigar on a tal stand.
He exhaled smoke and picked up the glass.
"This should be mixed to drink, but today I’m too busy to fuss about it, so let’s just make do."
"Alright, let taste what money tastes like."
John’s kidneys had been replaced with advanced implants, capable of automatically adjusting hormone and reabsorption ratios, so he wasn’t afraid of a bit of alcohol, it was just that the aftertaste hit harder.
Mr. Vito continued.
"You’re getting into more trouble, be careful with your actions."
"I fully understand, is there anything within the gang I can help with? Paying compensation directly works too."
"Haha."
Mr. Vito chuckled softly.
"Listen, kid, I’m not saying these things to ask for a return on a small favor..."
He sat upright, making the atmosphere serious.
"You need to view things long-term, understand who you’re dealing with... John, you’re climbing up, your thods are becoming more potent, a re gesture can affect others’ fate; with every choice, consider your class."
"Class?"
"Wherever in this city is willing to take you in, nurture you, and let you build your circle, establish networks, indicates that’s where your soul resides."
Mr. Vito turned the glass upside down over the sink.
"Do you feel like life is miserable, troubles abound? Hahaha, that precisely shows you’re young and brilliant, the whole world revolves around you, you can dive into every hustle..."
He intertwined his fingers on his abdon, leaned back to rest on the expensive leather sofa with his eyes closed.
"When you get to be like , rely lying around waiting for news, letting the storm pass by as a re observer, always a beat too late, set apart from hot events... it indicates you’re old, and this city is making you part of its tabolism."
The last hour before dawn.
John left the Bolago Club.
[Eden City - Dan Street Apartnt]
John had his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, a gun bag at his feet. As he leaned against the carriage wall, the elevator doors were opened by soone.
A purple-haired club girl stepped inside in sequined high heels.
"John!?"
She seed a bit surprised, at first didn’t recognize him, and flashed him a slightly weary smile, then lit a cigarette and hugged her arms, exhaling white smoke.
"Heard the net security blew you up, West District girls plan to scout a wall and paint graffiti in commoration."
"I just killed a boxer, is that enough to be rembered? I haven’t even frequented the club much."
"Haha, make sure to co by when you have ti."
She laughed and slipped her hand into her tight-fitting clothes, pulling out soft currency with an electronic chip and tucking it into John’s jacket collar.
The elevator doors opened at the third-floor shared rental area.
"You, thrill-seeker, must catch the Wednesday show, so as not to leave regrets before you die."
Reviews
All reviews (0)