"Hey Ryan, help me see how much this thing is worth?"
In the antique shop, a tall and thin black teenager pulled out a crappy pendant from his coat pocket and handed it to Ryan.
"20 bucks."
Ryan glanced up, glanced at the style of the pendant and answered casually.
"20? Hey! This is a treasure I've worked very hard to get my hands on." Hearing the price quoted by Ryan, the black boy couldn't help but jump.
"25, no more." Ryan had seen what was in front of him an unknown number of times, so he replied without looking up.
"Fine, 25 it is then." The black boy muttered in his mouth, took the money Ryan handed him, and carefully put it away, "I don't mean it in a bad way, but this is because we're friends. If we weren't, I wouldn't have sold it for such a low price ..."
"How's the funding for university going, Wells?" Interrupted the teen's endless complaints, Ryan asked in a friendly tone.
"About the same, but of course, if you could give a little more, I'd probably be closer to my goal a bit faster." With a shrug, the teenager, Wells, glared at Ryan with resentful eyes before returning to a faintly excited tone.
Born in the slums of Hell's Kitchen, Wells grew up like most black people, with a father he had never met and a tough mother.
It isn't easy for a single-parent family to survive, especially living in such a mixed environment as Hell's Kitchen. In short, Wells had a great mother. However, she wasn't that pretty to look at, especially with that over the 200-pounds figure.
But it was under the watchful eye of such an 'intimidating' mother that, even growing up in an environment as violent and depraved as Hell's Kitchen, Wells didn't pick up any bad habits, at least not like the majority of his peers who joined gangs before they even graduated from high school and became thugs.
"Although it's not a great college, it's at least a good choice. Mom and I agreed to find a decent job in New York after I graduated, preferably one that will allow us to move out of Hell's Kitchen."
"May your dreams come true as soon as possible."
Ryan liked Wells, the teenager. Compared with most people in Hell's Kitchen, at least, he had his own hopes and goals and fought for them.
Although, as far as Ryan knew, with the level of danger in New York in the future, even if Wells and the others moved to outer space, there was no way they could escape it.
But, who knows, maybe he was one of the lucky ones.
Pulling his thoughts from the future back to the present, Ryan looked at the shabby pendant on the new counter, "Say, where did you get this thing? "
Even if it was damaged, the intense gang colours revealed on the pendant still declared its origins to Ryan.
"Ryan, are you aware of the great things that have been happening in Hell's Kitchen lately?"
Sneaking his head out, Wells spoke in a playful and mysterious tone.
"Great things?"
Raising an eyebrow, Ryan couldn't help but blurt out the question.
Recently, he had been collecting reputation points everywhere, and he did somewhat ignore what was happening in Hell's Kitchen.
However, it wasn't all Ryan's fault.
After all, the fact that it was called Hell's Kitchen spoke for itself. Hell's Kitchen was a place where violent crimes of all kinds were committed on a daily basis, and no one knew everything about it if they didn't deliberately pay attention to it.
"10 bucks, no, 20!"
On the other side, Wells had been watching Ryan's reaction, and when he saw the puzzled look on his face, he raised his eyebrows and gestured with an open hand.
"10 bucks."
In response, Ryan didn't say much and simply pulled out a 10-dollar bill, 'Take it or leave it.'
"Ryan, you are too stingy."
Wells grumbled and tucked the money away before continuing, "The Savage Gang recently got into trouble with a madman. Their business in Hell's Kitchen is under constant attack from the other side, and it's said that the gang had lost a lot of people and suffered heavy losses. Several bars had been forced to close down. Antony, the boss of the Savage Gang, had given the order. Whoever can take care of that madman will become the new head of the Savage Gang's 6th District straight away and take charge of all business in the whole district."
Speaking of which, even Wells, who was determined to stay out of any gang activities, couldn't help but feel a bit moved. After all, this was the head of a district, not something that could be compared to the minor minion roles that his buddies were doing.
Of course, such a generous offer was enough to show how bleak the Savage Gang's current situation was.
"A madman?"
Ryan noted the description in Wells's words and couldn't help but repeat it.
"That's what the Savage gang called him. I think he's a total super soldier, a terminator. People said that one he shot up the Savage Gang's bars full of holes, all by himself. And, at the moment, the Savage Gang had absolutely no idea why ..."
'Super soldier, terminator, all by himself?'
As Wells described it, Ryan's mental image of the other man became clearer and even somewhat defined.
...
Hell's Kitchen, inside another of the Savage Gang's bars.
After a fierce shootout.
Stepping on the messy ground, a burly man with short hair silently came out of the shadows.
"Why, why?" Lying on the ground, a surviving Savage Gang member whined and asked, "Why do you keep targeting us? Who earth sent you ..."
"You know that old bum who's always lived in 6th District, Chip?"
Carrying his 'toy' in one hand, the man gazed down at the wailing gang member and asked in his own low, raspy, almost steel-like voice.
"He died recently because of one of your 'fun' parties."
"That's why you keep attacking us? Because of an insignificant bum!" The Savage Gang had been chasing down the man's reason for attacking them but hadn't realised that this reason was so utterly 'simple'.
Bang!
The blood splattered from the shot and stained the white skull on the man's chest bright red. Looking at the tattered state of the bar, the man casually picked up a hand grenade and threw it on the floor of the bar.
He stared at the huge explosion in front of him and whispered.
"To me, you are just as insignificant. "
...
-:Binge:-
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