Chapter 321: Chapter 180: Booming Business (Part 2)

Jurassic ZT15 acquired the privileges to cut the line.

It passed through the blockade and arrived on the other side of the checkpoint.

Jilead slammed the car door shut, his face serious as he brushed past gang members and returned other people’s greetings, seemingly well-respected.

He came to John’s side, took off his sunglasses, and said with a smile.

“F*ck, man, I knew it was you as soon as I saw the footage. The Red Light District clubs and bars are all talking about you, you know? Someone just asked me for help to see if I could get an Alloy RCH. I cursed them off right then, not just anyone can drive that kind of car. Hahaha, it’s really f*cking awesome, bro, knowing you is such a badge of honor…”

Jilead leaned on the roof of the armored vehicle, looking very chatty.

The Raqi Group’s corporate soldiers are running wild in the city.

The Eastern People switched leaders, and every move pulled at the nerves of gang warfare. The Black Gold Gang higher-ups had Jilead lead people to guard the border zones.

“Sorry, brother, I know your shop just opened, but I have to patrol around the West District later, and can’t make it to support you… See you later, brother, if there’s delivery service, remember to send me the number.”

“Maybe, if it hasn’t gone bankrupt.”

John suddenly thought of Mr. Vito’s retirement party tonight.

“Hey, are you going too? Bolago Banquet Hall.”

He leaned his head out to ask.

Jilead, who had already walked away, stopped, his expression becoming complicated, supporting his waist as he let out a long sigh.

“… It’s all f*cking bullshit!”

Jilead took out a Golden Apple cigarette from his leather jacket, handed it to John, but after being refused, smoked it by himself.

Vito’s abrupt departure once plunged the West District streets into chaos.

Shops lost their protection.

Violence replaced order.

The rules were no longer followed.

Bone Shards easily took over the territory, power, and manpower.

Those who originally followed Vito faced choices.

Rebellions were easily quelled.

Either be sent to the most dangerous trade spots, becoming meaningless death figures in news reports.

Or keep serving the gang, working well in the new positions!

Jilead belonged to the latter.

And he was doing well.

When John first met Jilead, he was just standing guard under a low-rent apartment building on Dan Street.

But now…

Jilead had become a true gang leader.

Under him was a big gang of lackeys at his beck and call, admired by street newcomers with dreams, becoming well-known and respected, entering high-class places like clubs without needing reservations.

Jilead’s work attitude was very serious.

But he still kept in touch with old friends, maintaining his old tone.

Every time he showed up, he’d be taller, stronger than the last meeting, decorated with gold jewelry symbolizing his status, and the guns from his car trunk were all goods from high-end weapon stores put on display in the window.

Even the vehicle he parked by the roadside, costing at least millions of euros.

All of these were things Jilead never had before.

He thrived under Bone Shards, fully displaying his abilities and far from reaching his career’s ceiling…

Now.

The former boss suddenly came back.

Bone Shards and Vito are obviously two factions.

“…John, what do you think I should choose?”

“I don’t know.”

John furrowed his brows, showing sympathy towards him.

“But you deserve everything you have now.”

“Hehe.”

Jilead shook his head with a bitter smile, crushed the cigarette butt with his bare hand, threw it away, and spat cigarette phlegm onto the ground beside him.

“It’s completely unfair, man, this shouldn’t be my problem… The people who should explain and choose shouldn’t be me.”

Jilead waved goodbye.

The thick gold rings appeared even more dazzling against his black skin.

[Shop – J. Chavez Restaurant]

Running a physical dining establishment in Eden City is a tough task; chain brands and vegan machines have already divided most of the market.

John had already mentally prepared himself.

The Jurassic ZT15 crossed the regional checkpoint, left the expressway, and turned into the road where the shop is, only to find it bustling like crazy.

Chavez was a car restaurant.

Behind it was a circular one-way road connected to the kitchen window, currently clogged with vehicles waiting for meals.

The vehicles were mostly modified.

The waiting customers looked strong, with street traits, their arms leaning on the window either tattooed or fully mechanical, and the quality of muscle bundles varied…

John’s first reaction was that someone was there to make trouble.

In the time he hesitated, new vehicles had already caught up behind him, so he could only go with the flow and queue up.

The customer flow was beyond imagination.

John followed those cars, observing carefully:

This group of fierce-looking men and women were actually very orderly when queuing to get their meals, paying without any issues, and were even quite patient.

Customers who had waited too long chatted with others.

They were all from the same circle, knowing each other, like some kind of gang meet-up.

Before long.

John’s Jurassic ZT15 stopped in front of the food pickup window.

He had ordered a [Mixed Burger] online.

The aroma wafting from the restaurant kitchen was strong.

Through the food pickup window, the kitchen looked like a battlefield, occasionally hearing Gerry’s impatient shouts.

“Here’s your meal, sir.”

An unfamiliar Mexican girl leaned out from the food pickup window.

She was wearing a chef’s hat, her body stained with grease, with small wounds on her natural hands as she handed the wrapped burger into the Jurassic ZT15.

John confirmed he didn’t know her.

He was just about to ask something.

Ding ding ding—

The food pickup bell rang.

This was to tell the customers behind they could move forward now.

John gave up asking, started the vehicle and headed to the parking lot behind the restaurant—this open-air parking lot was tucked in an alley, surrounded by wire fencing, theoretically part of a commercial facility.

Since the city’s secondary commercial planning.

These parking lots close to consumer areas are typically leased together with the stores to the same person, given to them for management and charging.

John used to be in transportation.

He understood the ropes here:

The company’s shops, thanks to this policy, transferred the right to charge for parking from the municipality to themselves.

Only a strong fist could keep the place safe.

If it’s like Genius’s Black Engine Restaurant, surrounded by unreasonable local bullies, they would mess around in your parking lot, even take it over entirely as their private garage.

John arrived at his parking lot.

Here too, it was filled with all kinds of vehicles, the customers weaving through them almost all had police bounties on their heads, a variety of people, but the majority were mercenaries in the city.

John, full of doubts, parked his car and walked towards the restaurant.

The mixed meat burger in his hand emitted a savory aroma.

John hadn’t had a decent meal lately, so he spontaneously shoved the food into his mouth, the seasoning of the patties was excellent, and juicy, not on the same level as fast food sold at street stalls.

But that’s not a reason to attract mercenaries.

Ding—

The glass sliding door’s chime was drowned in a wave of noise.

The restaurant looked even more crowded.

John almost thought he had walked into some gang bar:

The restaurant was packed with customers, tables and chairs shoved askew, muscular men, and exuberant girls barely fit in their seats.

They teased each other.

Beer and food scraps piled haphazardly near the bar, footprints and dirt covered the floor…

The air was filled with heat and dirty jokes.

All these customers were carrying weapons.

Long guns, short barrels, and various oily knives glinted, some even proudly showed off, rolling up their sleeves to reveal an electrically sparking Mantis Blade and dark gun barrels…

“WTF?”

John’s eyes widened, his chewing stopped.

His fingers trembled slightly, suppressing the urge to draw and fire, hoping for some calm on site to give him an explanation.

John forcibly squeezed to the front of the bar.

Gerry, carrying a load of food, came out from the kitchen, rang the service bell, shouted a number to the chaotic hall.

A bald guy bragging next to the bar stood up.

He tossed his cards aside, blocking half the light as he went to get his things, glancing at John in passing.

“Wow, look, the man himself finally showed up.”

The burly man greeted John on his own accord, revealing an ugly smile, picked up his plate and returned to his card game.

John responded in confusion, looking around, many others were also greeting him.

Clatter—

Gerry came out again.

He put the order on the iron stick, removed the printed ticket.

John quickly followed him.

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