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3.94% Becoming a Crime Lord / Chapter 3: Strip Club

章 3: Strip Club

After a quick recharge, Arslan was ready to face the day. He showered, grabbed some light breakfast, and hit the streets of New York. Even though he was still wearing his fast-food uniform that was a constant reminder of his need for a steady paycheck, he veered off his usual route. 

Instead of heading towards the burger joint he worked at, he found himself in front of a strip club. It was a place that felt oddly familiar to him.

Without hesitation, Arslan tossed his cigarette and stepped inside. The usual smuttiness of the place didn't faze him. He spotted Mia almost immediately, a smile spreading across his face as soon as he saw her. "Morning, Mia," he greeted the young woman, who, despite the suggestive atmosphere of the place, was dressed surprisingly modestly.

"Hey, Arslan. You look surprisingly good after yesterday's fight," Mia remarked, her voice laced with curiosity. She'd been one of the spectators, and she couldn't believe how quickly he'd bounced back.

Arslan shrugged nonchalantly. "Ice does wonders for me," he said with a grin before he continued. "Is Elijah around? He told me to come by."

Mia nodded, confirming Elijah's presence. "Yes, he's in his office with the manager," she informed Arslan, who expressed his gratitude to her before heading towards the office, eager to get things done as he had other things to do.

The strip club was quiet, devoid of customers except for the janitors who were diligently cleaning and a few workers tidying up. there were no performers graced the stage, which Arslan briefly fantasized about waking up to, before remembering the club didn't open until 5 PM.

As Arslan approached the office door, he rapped his knuckles against the open frame. The sound caught Elijah's attention, prompting him to rise from his seat, a welcoming smile gracing his lips when he saw him

"Welcome, welcome, my new champ," Elijah greeted him warmly. As the owner of both the strip club and the underground fighting club where Arslan had competed the previous day, Elijah emanated an aura of authority and charisma as he welcomed the young man.

"Am I interrupting something?" Arslan asked tentatively, observing the formidable stack of paperwork that Elijah and his manager were diligently reviewing. He briefly considered returning at a more appropriate time.

Without hesitation, the seasoned man waved off his manager and gestured for Arslan to take a seat. "Not at all,kid. come and sit," Elijah invited him, prompting Arslan to occupy the now vacant chair, the soft click of the closing door marking the beginning of their conversation.

"Would you like a drink or something to eat?" Elijah offered courteously, but shook his head once and declined, having recently eaten at his apartment.

"No need, thank you," Arslan said politely, swiftly steering the conversation towards the purpose of his visit. "I'm here, so, what did you want to talk about with me?" he asked, prompting Elijah to recline comfortably in his chair with a knowing smile.

"Kids these days lack manners in business transactions," Elijah remarked, eliciting a chuckle from Arslan.

"It's not that. I just don't want to be late for work, the manager would be more than glad to deduct my pay," Arslan explained, mindful of the ticking clock nearing his scheduled shift.

"I think those fools left you with nothing for you to go to work the next day after a major fight," Elijah teased about the lack of remnants left by the Moyah Family from the previous day, to which Arslan simply shrugged, a nonchalant response to the jest.

"But hey, I don't think you'll need that job for much longer after you hear what I've got for you," Elijah hinted mysteriously, making Arslan more curious about this opportunity the old man had for him.

"What do you mean?" Arslan asked, his face showing both curiosity and worry. Even though he was a champ in the underground fights, he knew the money from those fights wasn't enough to pay off his parents' huge debt fast enough.

As they talked, Arslan couldn't stop thinking about his money problems, even with Elijah's interesting offer. The idea of making more money and quickly fixing his family's debt was tempting and made him even more curious.

Arslan's mind raced with numbers as he thought about his parents' massive debt of 420 thousand, plus the growing interest. He had only managed to pay off 55 thousand from his fight winnings, and he knew he had a long way to go. As a champ, he'd make at least 5000 from each fight from now on, but it would still take a ton of fights before he could even think about quitting his day job.

Arslan's eyes lit up with curiosity as Elijah finally revealed the mysterious task he had for him. "There's something I need you to take care of for me," the old man said, making Arslan focus on the challenge ahead as the old man continued speaking. "I need you to go and rough up some idiot who's fallen behind on his payments for this week," Elijah instructed, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Arslan couldn't help but crack a smile at the irony of his own financial predicament mirroring that of his prospective target.

"Will it be just roughing up, or is there more to it?" Arslan asked cautiously, his thoughts drifting towards the ominous possibilities of Elijah's requests, perhaps even veering into the realm of irreversible actions that he might needed to take on this job.

Elijah's hearty laughter echoed in the room as he leaned back behind his desk, his amusement palpable. "No need to worry, young man. I wouldn't task you somethign more than roughing up that fool," he reassured, his tone firm yet lighthearted.

Though Elijah seemed sure of himself, Arslan couldn't shake off a feeling of unease. The old man's casual talk about violence and shady stuff made Arslan wary which made him decide to dig deeper into this matter.

"Why not send one of your goons instead of me?" Arslan asked, wondering why Elijah had picked him of all the people he had under his thumbe. "Well, have you seen those motherfuckers?" Elijah's answer brought a grin to Arslan's face. He remembered Elijah's crew as they were a scary bunch, and their looks definitely made them stand out. He knew the target would run immediately as soon as he saw them.

As the conversation unfolded, Arslan couldn't help but reflect on the curious blend of danger and intrigue that seemed to accompany every interaction he had with Elijah. The old man's cryptic nature and unconventional methods only served to deepen Arslan's entanglement in a web of uncertainty and dealings of the underworld.

"Alright, how much am I expecting to be compensated for this job?" Arslan inquired, his gaze fixed on Elijah, awaiting the inevitable reply.

"Let's say you can take this week's payment he owed me, about 12.5k," the old man said. Arslan was bummed when he heard that amount, it was a good chunk of cash, but not enough to get him out of debt fast. He still had a long way to go with Elijah to get back on his feet and be free from the Moyah Family.

The realization dawned on Arslan that this was probably a one-time deal, not a way out of his debt. He sighed, thinking about the extra work he'd have to do for the old man to reach his goal.

"Well, I suppose I've got three jobs on my plate now," Arslan remarked to Elijah, whose knowing smile hinted at the intricacies of their intertwined fates.

Without missing a beat, the old man retrieved a piece of paper from his desk, carrying information about their target, and handed it to Arslan, eliciting a playful smile appear on his face "You know there's these thing called phones, right?" Arslan teased, amused by Elijah's reliance on more traditional tools in a digital age.

"I know," Elijah replied with a hint of nostalgia as he knew a lot of people who was taken down because they were complasents, acknowledging the potential risks of leaving trails. "And there's also the matter of leaving behind evidence when sending around these things to your phone, right?" he said, shedding light on his cautious approach he needed to take.

Arslan's understanding nod signaled his compliance with Elijah's methods, recognizing the importance of discretion in their dealings. "Make sure to remember it all before you throw it away. I expect nothing but excellence from you," Elijah emphasized, his words filled with unspoken expectations.

With a final nod of acknowledgment, Arslan bid Elijah farewell, the weight of his newfound responsibilities settling upon his shoulders as he left the office, bracing himself for the tasks he needed to get done.

As Arslan left the office, he spotted Mia once again, balancing a plate with coffee and a light breakfast. She stood just outside the owner's office, and even in her modest attire a fitted blouse that hugged her curves and a knee length skirt that swayed gently with her movements, she radiated an undeniable allure.

Her long, dark hair cascaded in soft waves around her shoulders, and her striking eyes sparkled with mischief. The subtle shade of rose on her lips accentuated her warm smile, making Arslan's heart race as she approached.

"Hey, Mia," he called out, leaning casually against the wall. "When are you gonna give me your number? I'm starting to look like a beggar at this point."

Mia paused, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "I keep telling you, you're too young for me," she said, her voice light and teasing. She leaned slightly closer, giving him a glimpse of her collarbone, and Arslan felt a spark of excitement.

"Too young? I'm a grown man," he replied, trying to sound confident. "Besides, age is just a number, right?"

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You really think so? Go and find some girl your age to play with," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"But none of them compare to you," Arslan countered, unable to hide his admiration. "You bring breakfast to your boss, but who's bringing you breakfast?"

Mia raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Are you offering to cook for me, Arslan?" she replied, her tone flirtatious. "I'm not sure if you're ready for that kind of commitment."

"Anything for you," he said, feigning seriousness. "I could whip up something special. You'd be my muse."

Mia stepped back slightly, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "You're charming, I'll give you that. But charm only goes so far."

As she turned to head into the office, Arslan called out, "Can you pretend that I'm not younger than you for one day? Just give me a chance."

She glanced back at him, her expression playful yet thoughtful. "Maybe one day, Arslan. But for now, keep working on your cooking skills."

With that, she opened the door, leaving him standing there, captivated by her presence, a mix of hope and frustration swirling in his chest as he watched her figure disappear into the office.

As Mia vanished behind the office doors, Arslan released a wistful sigh, his gaze lingering on the now-empty hallway. A quick glance at his watch jolted him back to reality, a sharp exhale escaping his lips as he realized the passage of time. With a resigned click of his tongue, he hastened his steps, the looming specter of tardiness for his mundane day job propelling him forward.


next chapter

章 4: First Job!

As Arslan made his way from the strip club to the fast-food joint where he worked, he picked up the pace. Luckily, he arrived just in the nick of time, narrowly avoiding being late.

Behind the counter, Arslan greeted customers with a friendly grin. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction seeing the surprise on his manager's face at his timely arrival. The manager had a habit of wanting to cut Arslan's pay whenever he was late, so Arslan's on-time entrance felt like a small victory in itself for him.

After navigating the bustling influx of customers, Arslan managed to steal a moment of respite, quenching his thirst with a sip of water. His brief interlude was interrupted by the arrival of his manager, a stern expression etched upon his features, clutching a dry mop in hand.

"Alex is out today. Get to work and clean the restroom floors," the manager's directive cut through the air with an icy edge, aimed squarely at Arslan. Without a word in response, Arslan silently accepted the task at hand, seizing the mop with determination as he swiftly made his way to the restroom to fulfill his duties.

Upon completing the meticulous task of cleaning the restroom floors, Arslan returned the tools to their designated spots before dutifully washing his hands. As he made his way back to his post behind the counter, his manager materialized before him once more, bearing a new directive.

"Some tables require cleaning up. Would you mind taking care of that?" The manager's request was delivered with a hint of expectation, to which Arslan responded with a nod and a congenial smile. Without hesitation, he embarked on the next task, seamlessly transitioning to ensure the restaurant maintained its pristine appearance.

After meticulously attending to the cleanliness of the tables, Arslan swiftly restored order to the dining area before his manager reappeared, a fresh task in mind.

"Arslan, the inventory needs to be checked in the back storeroom. Go and handle that as well" The manager's tone was cold and demanding, a subtle hint of challenge lacing his words. Despite the mounting workload, Arslan maintained his composure, his resolve unshaken as he accepted the assignment.

As he ventured into the back storeroom, a flicker of frustration danced in his eyes, the weight of his manager's relentless demands beginning to take its toll. However, with a deep breath to steel himself, Arslan plunged into the task at hand, determined to meet each challenge head-on, even as the manager's attempts to overwork him seemed increasingly apparent.

"I think today ain't any easier for you like always," a voice chimed in, belonging to a young man clad in the same uniform as Arslan. With a mischievous grin and his work hat slightly askew, the young man stood at the storeroom door, observing Arslan's predicament.

"Yeah, this fool is trying to make me do something stupid to lose this job, like always," Arslan muttered as he hoisted a box onto the shelf, his frustration palpable as he jotted down notes on a board clutched in his hand.

"Why don't you do something stupid then? It's not like you need this job after becoming a champ" Ryder, teased as he approached Arslan, who paused in his task to regard his friend with a serious expression.

"Everything has its time, Ryder," Arslan replied solemnly, causing his friend to shrug before rolling up his sleeves and joining Arslan in the work.

"What else do you have left?" Ryder inquired, to which Arslan gestured towards a stack of boxes on the back shelf that required attention. Without hesitation, Ryder sprang into action, eager to assist his friend.

The two worked in tandem, swiftly completing the task at hand before settling atop a stack of boxes. As they caught their breath, Arslan shared a piece of news with Ryder.

"Elijah just gave me a job outside of the arena," Arslan revealed, prompting a look of anticipation on Ryder's face.

"Really? What is it?" Ryder's curiosity piqued.

"Nothing major, just collecting some money from someone who isn't paying what he owes," Arslan explained, causing a flicker of disappointment to cross Ryder's features.

"What's with that face?" Arslan inquired, observing his friend's expression shift as Ryder began tidying up his attire.

"Nothing, I just thought we finally had the chance to make it big," Ryder lamented, his eagerness to delve into the lucrative opportunities presented by the notorious crime lord Elijah evident in his disappointment upon realizing the job's modest nature.

Arslan couldn't help but chuckle at Ryder's ambition before playfully swatting the back of his head. "How do you plan to make a move without a solid foothold? We'd be easy pickings for other crews or risk losing what little we have," Arslan cautioned, aware of the dangers that came with overreaching in their precarious position.

"We could just grab Marco's corner right now. He's wide open without backup to push us back," Ryder proposed eagerly, his hunger for recognition and success driving his impulsive suggestions.

"Not the right time for that. So, are you joining me on this job, or should I handle it solo?" Arslan posed the question to Ryder, giving his friend the opportunity to partake in the task at hand, not out of necessity, but out of a desire to see Ryder reap the rewards alongside him.

Despite both Arslan and Ryder's participation in the underground fighting circuit, with Arslan enjoying greater success with a record of no losses compared to Ryder's 4 wins and 3 losses, Arslan remained supportive, seeking to uplift his friend in their shared pursuit of financial stability.

"Fine, I'll come with you," Ryder conceded to Arslan, their camaraderie evident as they prepared to exit the storeroom. However, their departure was abruptly halted by the appearance of the manager, standing with an inscrutable expression that foreboded more misery for the young Arslan.

"I have another task for you," the manager's announcement elicited a weary sigh from Arslan, his shoulders slumping in resignation. A faint chuckle escaped Ryder's lips as he made his exit, leaving Arslan to contend with yet another demand from their relentless supervisor.

===================

After completing their shift at the fast-food restaurant, Arslan and Ryder found themselves stationed in front of a corner store, sipping on soda as they fixated their gaze on the bar across the street.

Their attention was unwavering, their eyes glued to the door, anticipating the emergence of their target based on the intel provided by Elijah. The tension in the air was palpable as they awaited the pivotal moment.

"How long is this man going to stay in there? Isn't he supposed to be a father of four or something?" Ryder voiced his impatience, discarding his empty soda can with a flick of his wrist.

"Just be patient, he'll leave at the end," Arslan reassured, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, his demeanor calm and collected.

"I have a fight in a few hours, and this guy is wasting my time," Ryder grumbled, contemplating a more aggressive approach to expedite the situation. "Should I go in and try to flush him out?" he suggested, seeking Arslan's input.

"Nah, no need for that," Arslan interjected, recognizing the strategic advantage of allowing their target to remain unaware of their presence. He understood that biding their time would yield a more favorable outcome, affording them an easier opportunity to handle the situation effectively.

"Tell me about him again, I wasn't paying attention the first time," Ryder requested as he settled into a squat, lighting up a cigarette to while away the time. Arslan assumed a casual stance, leaning against the wall as he recounted the details.

"His name is David, 39 years old, divorced, father of four, currently unemployed. He borrowed money from the old man to start a business promising a good return. At first, he made the payments as agreed, but he's now fallen behind," Arslan briefed Ryder on their target's background and predicament.

"What kind of hustle did he get into?" Ryder inquired, his curiosity piqued as he took a drag from his cigarette. Arslan swirled the remnants of his drink before shedding light on David's questionable enterprise.

"He started a bot farm," Arslan revealed, prompting a puzzled expression from Ryder. Sensing his friend's confusion, Arslan clarified, "He's involved in selling fake followers and views online."

Ryder nodded in comprehension, about to delve deeper into the topic when Arslan interrupted, their attention diverted as their target finally emerged from the bar that he was in.

"Enough of that, our cash cow is on the move," Arslan declared, discarding his empty soda can and setting off at a leisurely pace, with Ryder falling into step beside him.

David staggered through the deserted streets, his intoxication apparent in his unsteady gait and lack of awareness. Arslan and Ryder trailed behind him, silent and stealthy, their presence akin to looming shadows.

As they traversed several blocks, the trio arrived at an isolated street, devoid of any passersby or vehicles, presenting the opportune moment for their planned intervention.

Ryder deftly retrieved a small pipe concealed on his person, while Arslan vigilantly scanned their surroundings to ensure their privacy before proceeding.

With synchronized precision, the duo sprinted towards David, and Ryder swiftly wielded the pipe, delivering a decisive blow to the back of the man's head, causing him to crumple to the ground.

"Knock knock, Motherfucker," Ryder quipped as David collapsed, prompting Arslan to swiftly commence dragging him by his feet towards a nearby alleyway, concealing their actions from prying eyes.

"Who are you? What do you want?" David's voice quivered as he clutched his injured head, bewildered by the sudden turn of events unfolding before him.

"It's the fucking Bank, calling your bitchass dor their money," Ryder spat contemptuously as he vented his frustration, landing a kick on David's prone form as Arslan continued to haul him away.

After leading David further into the secluded alley, Arslan released his grip on the man and loomed over him with a menacing glare, exuding an aura of intimidation as David began to plead for leniency.

"Is this Elijah's doing? I begged him for a few more days to gather the remaining funds," David implored, his voice tinged with desperation. Before Arslan could respond, Ryder delivered another forceful kick to David's midsection, eliciting a pained groan from the helpless debtor.

"Your time is up, you deadbeat," Arslan declared coldly, his tone devoid of mercy as he directed Ryder to search their captive for any valuables or information.

Ryder swiftly began patting down the struggling man, who attempted to resist before succumbing to another agonizing groan as Arslan delivered a forceful kick that resonated with power beyond Ryder's previous strikes.

"The more you struggle, the more pain you'll suffer," Arslan warned David, a hint of empathy underlying his steely tone as he recalled his own past struggles.

Once Ryder completed the search, a wide grin spread across his face as he presented an envelope to Arslan, his eyes alight with anticipation. "It looks like he had a good reason to push back," Ryder remarked, indicating the bulging stack of cash concealed within the envelope, eliciting a subtle smirk from Arslan.

"You got the payment and then some. this should make the old bastard happy, right?" David inquired, attempting to gauge Arslan's response. Arslan swiftly erased any trace of amusement from his expression before issuing a chilling retort.

"Sorry, your situation needs more than cash payments," Arslan declared firmly, reclaiming the envelope and the contents of David's wallet before securing them in his pocket. A silent exchange of nods between Arslan and Ryder signaled their shared understanding of the next course of action.

"Please, spare me. I promise I won't delay it anymore," David implored, desperation lacing his words as the two advanced towards him, causing him to retreat until his back met the unyielding wall of the building behind him.

Arslan and Ryder loomed over David, their expressions unreadable as they cornered him against the cold brick wall. The dim alleyway echoed with the weight of impending consequences, punctuated by David's frantic pleas for mercy.

The sound of punches, Kicks, and groans filled the alley before it slowly started to fade away after what seemed like a long minute of ass whooping that the 39 years old received.

As the alley fell silent, except for David's trembling breaths, the inevitable conclusion of their encounter loomed in the shadows, shrouded in the darkness of the night. The debt would be paid, one way or another.


クリエイターの想い
BrizZl BrizZl

Please your power stones to support the story, Thanks for reading.

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