American comics: Enlightenment in Arkham, Ascension to Homelander.

Chapter 8: The Bad Boy and Lao Deng
In the Little Italy of East Side Gotham City, in Johnsonberg's Gunslinger.

The bald boss held a coffee cup and watched today's news with a pair of old eyes.

He wanted to read more news about Bruce Wayne. After all, to an old man like him in Gotham, the name Wayne meant a lot.

It’s just that 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 short moment and then went into Wayne Manor and never came out.

There is simply no more news about Bruce Wayne in the news.

As for the news currently being broadcast on TV, it is about a series of gang shootouts in Burnley.

Even though more than seventy people died in this gunfight, the bald boss didn't care about that.

People die in Gotham every day, and more than seventy people are nothing.

The boss, who had experienced many ups and downs, was not panicked and even added a piece of sugar to his coffee.

There are more than seventy fewer bad guys in Gotham today, which is certainly something worth celebrating.

only……

While stirring the coffee with a spoon, the boss thought of the young Asian robber not long ago.

The boss's eyes were exceptionally 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 flame is not common, and it would be a pity if it was extinguished like this.

Wow!

Just as the boss was thinking about the Asian, his shop door was pushed open heavily.

The boss looked towards the door and couldn't help but frown. Who else could have walked into his shop? It was the Asian man he was thinking about.

"Boss, your gun is great. 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 placed 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 let out a breath and said.

"It seems like there's another successful scoundrel in Gotham City. Compared to what's going on now, I'd rather you never come back."

"Don't be so sharp, boss. The so-called successful bad boy in your mouth may be the future boss in the eyes of others.

Like every successful hypocrite, we call him Mr. Congressman.

Success itself is far more important than the suffix of "bad boy"! "

Donton responded rudely, then took out a few wads of money from his travel bag.

"Instead of lecturing me, why don't you do some business with me? Your products are of good quality, so why are there so few people patronizing you?

If they don't buy it, I will. Show me some grenades."

"Ha, interesting!"

The boss smiled and nodded, then turned around and picked up a wooden box.

The bald boss explained as he moved the wooden box onto the bar.

“Why do I have so few customers? Because I’m too formal.

I'm a legitimate gun shop that cooperates with our Little Garden State National Guard. Normally, I need assholes like you to show me the corresponding proof of possession of weapons before I can sell anything to you.

I have said this, don’t you understand?”

"I see. You're not very smart."

Donton nodded and said.

"You actually opened a legitimate gun store in the most unofficial place in all of 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 camp of all Italian ethnic groups in Gotham!

Damn it, the current boss of Gotham, Roman, is of Italian descent, which means this area is Falcone’s lair!

Falcone's base, including the nearby Miller Harbor and Iceberg Club, is all concentrated in Little Italy.

Look, you're selling these guns that require legal proof to own in the headquarters of Gotham's most powerful gang.

Isn't that just selling weapons to those honest middle-class people who might be robbed or kidnapped by the Falcone family at any time?"

At this point, Downton gave a thumbs up to the bald boss.

“Although your presence won’t cause any trouble to their actions, to people like them, even the smallest trouble is still trouble.

Even so, you just have fewer customers, not any less organs.

It seems like you have a really good background, and your cooperation with the National Guard is not an exaggeration."

After he finished speaking, Donton stuffed all the grenades in the wooden box into his backpack, and then patted the wooden box heavily.

“I heard that the National Guard’s equipment is the same as the military’s, so why don’t you show me some of the good stuff?

What about Barrett and bazooka? Show them out and let us open our eyes!

Customers like me are hard to find. If you miss this opportunity, you will never find this store again, old friend."

"Fuck you!"

After hearing what Donton said, the bald boss put the wooden box back behind him unhappily, and took out a stack of US dollars from Donton's bag without any hesitation. Holding the money, the bald boss waved to Donton.

"A pistol and a dozen grenades, all of which 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 check me.

But the stuff you mentioned is never sold easily in my store. If you really need it, I can introduce you to an underground arms dealer.

You can rest assured about the quality of the weapons. The stall on the black market is run by my son, and the stuff there is no different from mine.

Remember, man, background outside of Gotham means nothing in this city, and your just assumptions about me are 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!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the bald old man took out a piece of cardboard from his trouser pocket and threw it to Donton.

Taking the piece of paper and taking a look at it, Donton found that there was only a row of numbers on it.

"This is the private communication method between my son and me. When you make this call, 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 unmercifully.

"You are really interesting, Old Deng. You keep calling me a jerk, but at the same time you push this private channel to me.

I don't have the hobby of finding a godfather, or do you value the remaining Mane in my bag more?"

As he spoke, Donton put the arms dealer's contact information in his pocket, then took out a handful of bills and put them on the bar.

"Ha ha!"

Hearing what Donton said, the boss opposite laughed immediately. While laughing, he stuffed the last money Donton took out back into Donton's bag.

“Everyone was a bad boy when they were young. Only the bad boys who survived to the end and still had some money in their hands can become old men like me.

When you live long enough, you will realize that, as long as it is not an ordinary salary, every penny of money that appears in your life is destined to be accompanied by a certain degree of risk.

Please save this little money of yours, it's not even enough to fill the gaps between my son's teeth. I just saw that you are a bit of a fighter, so I wanted to add a good subordinate to my son."

"cut."

Hearing what the boss said, Donton gave him the middle finger with disdain.

"You actually want me to be your son's thug, Lao Deng, you have no idea 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!"

Amidst loud laughter, Donton picked up the backpack full of banknotes and grenades, turned around and walked out of the store.

However, he had just taken two steps when he suddenly turned around and asked the bald boss a question.

"By the way, Lao Deng, where is the Iceberg Club? Show me the way!"

"You even came to me with a f**king grenade to ask about the Iceberg Club. Do you think you can still have a future with this thing?"

The boss raised his middle finger to Donton, then pointed it to the left and continued.

"Turn left and walk all the way to the beach. Follow the direction of the port to the warehouse. Find a place with a lot of thugs hanging around. That's where you'll find the Iceberg Club!"

"Okay, thanks."

"Don't thank me, just go away now, I have to pack up and go out of town to the farm to shear wool for two days!

If I had known that the target of your fire was Roman and his family, I would have shot you the first time you walked through my door.

This is just great!

After you die, the Romans will definitely find out about me. I only made over 20,000 yuan from you, but I will owe Falcone tens of millions. I’m losing a lot on this deal!”

"Can't you think of something better, Old Deng? What if I can't die?"

While responding to his boss verbally, Donton smiled and pointed his two middle fingers at him.

Looking at Donton's two middle fingers, the bald boss put his hands on his waist and thrust his hips hard.

"If you can still live like this, then my old dick, which has been useless for a long time, can be used again.

Don't brag, take your money and guns and secretly move to another city 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’m leaving now. I have to go find something fun to do.

Lao Deng, see you next day!"

After he finished speaking, Downton pushed open the shop door with a loud laugh and walked into the almost never-ending rain in Gotham without looking back.

Looking at Donton's back, the bald boss sat back in his seat with a hint of regret in his eyes.

If the Wayne family is the king of Gotham during the day, then Falcone is the uncrowned king of Gotham in the past thirty years.

Just as every company that challenged the Wayne Group in the past thirty years ended in bankruptcy, every person who tried to challenge Falcone had their body sunk to the bottom of the sea near Miller Harbor.

As for today…

There will be one more body in Miller Harbor today.

It’s just a pity that yet another person tries to challenge authority!
(End of this chapter)