Youth is great, Lamanche thought with a hint of wistfulness before he then considered whether he had the same aura in his youth.
No, in his twenties, he was still struggling to escape the slums.
Looking at the quality and level of his underlings compared to his own bodyguards, Lamanche felt annoyed and frustrated. They were all rough around the edges, and even though he had achieved fame and success for many years now, he still didn't have such... outstanding followers.
Even in a cheap chain coffee shop, they carried themselves with the poise of attending a state banquet; such confidence, such demeanor, Mad Dog's strength was evident.
There was no need to overthink it, a comeback was within reach—Kaczynski and his uncle were finished, all he had to do was wait patiently.
