Caesar looked at the new and bustling location of Trough street. Once the property and playground of the Capo gang was now rightfully owned by him.
He owned the night-owl clubs right at the center, with a reputation of bringing the craziest and wildest parties in the whole city. This was the centerground for the trade of Joy, with the purpose of letting go of all inhibitions on a friday night.
That was not all. The clubs were surrounded by bars and nightly establishments that only enhanced the sodomy that people can achieve when they visit Trough street.
Right now, Trough street was empty with no visitors nor any loud and ear-deafening band jazz music keeping everyone up till late at night. There weren't even any horses trodding with carriages behind them to travel for some customers.
But that would all change once the last bell of the town rang to signal the sunset. At that time, Caesar and the new Doping Narcos will monopolize the business of Joy all around.
Caesar leapt off the carriage as he faced a bar just a few second walk from the Trough street clubs. He carried a black leather case with him.
This club was aptly named 'Seaman's Rum,' for the sailor decorations all around it and even a realistic salty smell as he walked inside.
The tables were round, looking like a ship's wheel. There were also taxidermied fish decorated along the walls, ranging from pufferfishes to swordfishes and a prized shark head at the very front–just above the bar itself.
"We're closed. Don't you know a bar is only open at night?"
A man was sitting at the very corner of the bar, sitting with a glass of whiskey in front of him. This man was very drunk even at the zenith of mornings, judging from the empty glass bottle beside him.
"Time does not limit me. I can come here whenever I want," Caesar replied, ignoring him while he looked around the bar.
The man frowned, with his cheeks red from inebriation. He was incredibly offended by the rudeness of this new kid who didn't even look like he was at the age where he could drink.
"Oh, I see…I forgot to wear my cap." The man then took out a flat cap from his pockets. He immediately displayed a prideful smile, expecting Caesar to understand his position.
Caesar looked at him for a millisecond and looked away again to check the current quality of the bar. He was thinking about whether he would sell his pure Joy here.
"You ignored me?! Kid, don't you know what my cap means?"
Caesar looked at him with an unimpressed look. "You're from the Capo gang."
"So you do know us. Leave then, before you regret it."
But Caesar didn't even dignify the man with a response. He only walked towards the bar to look at the alcohol displayed at the bar: whiskey, brandy, vodka, everything looked good.
"Kukuku…well I guess I would have to teach you a lesson."
But before the man could ready his fist, a man quickly rushed out of the door behind the bar. He had a mustache on his wrinkled face. He had a bartender's uniform put on.
"Please don't destroy the bar!" The man then put himself between Caesar and the drunk man. "He'll go away now, won't you?"
The bartender looked at Caesar and gave him a pleading look. Then, with a whisper, "don't anger him. You'll get killed by the Capo gang."
Caesar almost smiled as he heard that. He almost believed that the Capo gang was some dangerous gang. He almost forgot that he already killed the 5 Miracled from their gang, essentially making them weaponless and as bare as a baby.
"The Capo gang is harmless–don't worry about them. Instead, let me ask you a question. How much is this bar?"
Caesar's words almost sent the bartender into a heart attack. This was not the time to discuss that. He even dared to say that the Capo gang were harmless!
That basically guaranteed his death sentence. And the worst part was that the bar would be the execution place.
"Please don't say that! I don't want my bar to be reduced to broken glasses!"
"You deserve death, kid! This bar is under the Capo gang's territory. I'll kill you now!" the drunk man shouted.
The bartender ducked away from the punch of the man, afraid that he would get affected by the fight. This kid is dead, he thought.
But unexpectedly, the man's punch missed. He must still be drunk. How else would he explain that the kid just easily evaded a punch from a member of the Capo gang. The kid was even carrying a leather case with him!
The man couldn't believe that Caesar was still smiling as he smoothly bobbed his head away from the punch. He might be drunk, but he was still confident in his fighting ability even under this condition–an effect of the Capo gang training.
"You're lucky! Let's see if you can dodge this!" The man punched Caesar again, but unbelievably, his punch once again hit nothing but air.
The drunk man instantly became sober as he became aware of the situation. His barrage stopped as he tripped from one of the circular table's legs.
Caesar just smiled as he looked at the man. The punches were unbearably slow. It was as if he was watching yeast grow on bread–the man was probably even slower. He didn't even have to put down the case.
Then the drunk man saw Caesar raise one finger.
"What's that? Are you making fun of me?!"
Caesar just kept his pointer finger up.
"I'll tear that finger off your hands!" the man shouted as he charged towards Caesar. At this point, he was completely focused, using all his strength and his concentration to accurately hit his strongest punch.
Caesar kept his finger up.
Then, the man smiled as he saw Caesar keep his head in place. He can't dodge away from this one, he thought.
But then, something unbelievable happened. Caesar just moved his finger to intercept the punch. And something even more unbelievable happened. The man's punch was actually stopped.
The man couldn't believe what happened. He punched something that felt like a wall stronger than steel. A few bones in his knuckles were immediately broken from the impact.
"AAAHH!" the man screamed.
Caesar just looked at him. "You should be like me. Don't let time dictate your actions. Even though it's not night time, you should go to sleep."
With a simple punch, that seemed like a speeding bullet for the drunk man, Caesar knocked the lights out of him. It was a one-hit kill, leaving the drunk man out of the fight.
The bartender slowly stood up, with his eyes filled with confusion as he looked at the dead-looking drunk man. Then, he slowly looked at Caesar.
"How did you do that?"
The bartender saw a lot of tough and strong people, people filled with muscles strengthened by scars, who were unable to go against a member of the Capo gang. Now, a teenager who had an average build just knocked him out in one punch.
"He was weak."
"..."
"Nevermind that. Do you own this place?"
The bartender shook his head, trying to wake himself up from his dream. But it didn't do anything. It was all true.
"Uhh…yes–yes. I own this place." he subconsciously bowed his head as he answered.
"Good. I'll buy it."
"Excuse me?"
The bartender's eyes spooked up. He couldn't believe his ears. Did this kid just tell him that he would buy this whole bar? The best bar in Trough Street?
"You heard me. I'll buy it."
The bartender couldn't reply. He didn't know if Caesar was serious or not.
"This place has hundreds upon hundreds of customers visiting every night. Not only that, we serve top-shelf alcohol worth thousands and thousands of Parou."
"Yes. I know. That's why I want to buy it. How much?"
The bartender didn't know if he should laugh or just throw this kid out. This was a serious matter, involving millions of Parou in all. There was no way that Caesar could afford that.
"4 million Parou."
In truth, the bar was only worth 3 million Parou, but the bartender thought he should add another million so that Caesar would know how impossible it was to acquire this bar.
Caesar nodded.
The bartender nodded to himself. It seemed that this kid finally knew that buying a bar was adult business, not kid business.
"Here's 5."
Then, Caesar just handed the bartender the black leather case he was carrying all this time.
The bartender received the case and felt it was a bit heavy. He looked at Caesar, who just gestured his head at the case, implying that he should open it.
And once the bartender opened the case, he saw stacks and stacks of Parou bills sitting right in front of him. The fresh smell of money was pleasant to the nose. Not only that, everything was in 10,000 Parou bills!
"You can count it if you want."
The bartender immediately shook his head profusely. This was all real money, right in front of him–all 5 million of it. And the fact that this young man produced this so easily and so nonchalantly told him that this man was a big shot.
Caesar was not only a strong and skillful man in a fight, he was also extremely rich. Caesar was someone he should not anger or be rude to.
"I'll give you the bar, but there's one problem. This is still the Capo gang's territory–"
And just before he could finish his sentence, a party burst out from the door.