Chapter 8 The Bad Boy and Lao Deng
In the Little Italy of East District, Gotham City, in Johnsonberg's Gun Feast.
The bald boss held a coffee cup and watched today's news with his old eyes.
He wanted to read more news about Bruce Wayne from the news. After all, for an old man like him in Gotham, the name Wayne is of great significance.
But this generation of Wayne seems to be too low-key. Even when he returned to his city for the first time in seven years, he only showed up at the airport for a moment and then went into Wayne Manor and never came out.
There is no more news about Bruce Wayne in the news.
As for the news about a series of gang gunfights in Burnley District that is being broadcast on TV now.
Although more than 70 people died in this gunfight, the bald boss doesn't care about that.
People die every day in Gotham, and more than 70 people are nothing.
The boss who has experienced many storms is not only not panicking, but even adds a piece of sugar to his coffee.
There are more than 70 less bad guys in Gotham today, which is certainly something worth celebrating.
It's just...
While stirring the coffee with a coffee spoon, the boss thought of the young Asian robber not long ago.
The boss's eyes were particularly sharp, and he could see the fire burning in the eyes of the Asian youth.
I just don't know if the fire has been extinguished now?
That kind of fire is not common, and it would be a pity if it was extinguished like this.
Clang!
Just when the boss was thinking about the Asian in his heart, his shop door was pushed open heavily.
The boss looked at the door, and then couldn't help frowning. Who else could have walked into his shop? It was the Asian he was thinking about.
"Boss, your gun is good. It feels great in your hand."
Donton nodded to the boss with a smile, then threw the backpack on his back on the bar, took out two bundles of banknotes from it and put them in front of the boss.
Looking at the banknotes in front of him, and glancing at the more banknotes in the travel bag, the boss exhaled and said.
"It seems that there is another successful scoundrel in Gotham City. Compared with now, I would rather you never come back."
"Don't be so sharp, boss. The so-called successful scoundrel in your mouth may be the future boss in the mouths of others.
Just like every successful hypocrite, we have to call him Mr. Congressman.
Success itself is far more important than the suffix of scoundrel!"
Donton responded unceremoniously, and then took out a few stacks of money from his travel bag.
"Instead of preaching to me, why don't you do some more business with me? Your products are of good quality, why are there so few people patronizing?
If they don't buy, I will buy. Bring me some grenades."
"Ha, interesting!"
The boss nodded with a smile, then turned around and picked up a wooden box.
While carrying the wooden box to the bar, the bald boss explained.
"Why do I have so few customers? Because I'm too formal.
I'm a legitimate gun shop that cooperates with the National Guard of our Little Garden State. Under normal circumstances, I need bastards like you to show proof of possession of weapons before I can sell things to you.
I've said this, don't you understand?"
"I understand, you're not very smart."
Donton nodded and said.
"You actually opened a regular gun store in the most irregular place in Gotham.
When I first came here, I asked a few lucky passers-by and found out that your store is near Little Italy, the base of all Italians in Gotham!
Damn it, the current boss of Gotham, Roma, is of Italian descent, which means that this area is Falcone's home!
Including the nearby Miller Harbor and Iceberg Club, Falcone's base is all concentrated in Little Italy.
Look, you are selling these guns that require legal proof to own in the base of the strongest gang in Gotham.
Aren't you selling weapons to those honest middle-class people who may be robbed or kidnapped by the Falcone family at any time?"
Speaking of this, Downton gave the bald boss a thumbs up.
"Although your presence won't cause any trouble to their actions, for people like them, no matter how small the trouble is, it's still trouble.
Even so, you just don't have many customers, not any organs missing.
It seems that you have a good background, and your cooperation with the National Guard should not be bragging."
After the voice fell, Donton stuffed all the grenades in the wooden box into his backpack, and then patted the wooden box heavily.
"I heard that the equipment of the National Guard is the standard equipment of the army, so why don't you show me some good stuff.
What Barrett, rocket launcher, show them out!
Customers like me are not easy to find. If you miss this village, there will be no such store, old friend."
"Fuck you!"
After listening to Donton's words, the bald boss put the wooden box back behind him in a bad mood, and took out a stack of US dollars from Donton's bag without courtesy.
Holding the money, the bald boss waved to Donton.
"A pistol, a dozen grenades, all of these can be reported as damaged or lost. Even if I say that I used the grenades myself at the shooting range, no one will come to investigate me.
But the things you mentioned are not easily sold in my store. If you really need them, I can introduce you to an underground arms dealer.
You can rest assured about the quality of the weapons. My son is in charge of the stalls on the black market, and the goods are no different from mine.
Remember, man, background outside of Gotham is useless in this city, and your speculation about me is bullshit.
The reason why I can sit here peacefully drinking coffee and watching TV has nothing to do with the National Guard, it's because my son is one of the top five underground arms dealers in Gotham!"
After the voice fell, the bald old man took out a piece of hard card from his trouser pocket and threw it to Donton.
Took the paper and took a look, Donton found that there was only a row of numbers on it.
"This is the private contact between my son and me. When you call this number, he will know that I am your guarantor."
Hearing this, Donton nodded heavily to the bald boss to express his gratitude.
But even though his body was thanking him, Donton still responded unforgivingly.
"You are really interesting, Old Deng, you keep calling me a bad boy, but you push all these private channels to me.
I don't have the hobby of recognizing godfathers, or do you value the remaining Mane in my bag more? "
While talking, Donton put the contact information of the arms dealer in his pocket, and then took out a handful of banknotes and put them on the bar.
"Haha!"
Hearing Donton's words, the boss opposite laughed immediately, and while laughing, he stuffed the last money Donton took out back into Donton's bag.
"Everyone was a bad boy when they were young, and only the bad boys who survived to the end and still had some money in their hands can become old Deng like me.
When you live longer, you will know that as long as it is not an ordinary salary, every money that appears in your life is destined to be accompanied by a certain degree of risk.
Save this little money, they are not even enough to fill the gaps in my son's teeth. I just see that you have the energy to be a thug, and I want to add a good subordinate to my son. "
"Tsk. "
Hearing the boss's words, Donton gave the boss a middle finger with disdain.
"You actually want me to be a thug for your son, Old Deng, you don't know how much trouble you have caused your son.
Wait, your son will have a new job. I hope he can adapt to my style as a boss in the future, haha!"
Laughing loudly, Donton picked up the backpack full of banknotes and grenades, turned around and walked out of the store.
But he just took two steps and turned back to ask the bald boss.
"By the way, Lao Deng, where is the Iceberg Club? Show me the way!"
"You even brought grenades to ask me about the Iceberg Club. Do you think you can still have this thing in the future?"
The boss raised his middle finger to Donton, then pointed his middle finger to the left and continued.
"Turn left and walk all the way to the seaside, follow the direction of the port to the warehouse, and find a place where there are many thugs hanging around, and you will find the Iceberg Club!"
"Okay, thank you."
"Don't thank me, you'd better get out of here, I have to pack up and go out of town to shear wool for two days on the farm!
If I had known that the target of your fire was the Romans and his family, I should have shot you the first time you walked into my door.
Now it's good!
After you die, the Romans will definitely find me. I only made more than 20,000 yuan from you, but I have to owe Falcone tens of millions. I lost a lot of money on this deal! "
"Can't you think of something better, old Deng? What if I can't die?"
Dangdun responded to the boss verbally, while smiling and pointing two middle fingers at him.
Looking at the two middle fingers of Tangdun, the bald boss put his hands on his waist and stiffened his hips fiercely.
"If you can still live like this, then my old cock that has been useless for a long time can show its strength again.
Don't brag, take your money and guns and secretly change cities to live a good life! "
"Haha, I have to live a good life. Compared with the excitement now, my past comfort is like never having eaten any good pork.
I won't say any more. I'm leaving now. I have to go find some fun.
Old Deng, see you tomorrow!"
After he finished speaking, Downton opened the door with a big laugh and walked into the almost never-ending rain in Gotham without looking back.
Looking at Downton's back, the bald boss sat back in his seat with a little pity in his eyes.
If the Wayne family is the king of Gotham during the day, then Falcone is the uncrowned king of Gotham's nightlife in the past thirty years.
In the past thirty years, just like every company that challenged the Wayne Group ended up in bankruptcy, every person who tried to challenge Falcone, their bodies also sank to the bottom of the sea near Miller Port.
As for today...
There will be another body in Miller Port today.
It's just a pity for another person who tried to challenge authority!