"Hell yeah, that's a must-do. But tonight, we need to figure out a way to keep her there all night. It'd be best if she goes alone..."
Everyone smoked their cigarettes, laughing and joking about what to do with Shirley. The three girls were stunning, and their figures spoke for themselves. However, my body ached so much that I couldn't muster the energy to pay attention.
I sat on the ground, wiping the blood off my face, feeling a mixture of emotions that were hard to express. My nose was tingling, and Eliot took my money, yet he never spoke up for me throughout the ordeal.
I stared directly at him, feeling a sense of indescribable injustice. Eliot's gaze was evasive, perhaps because he felt guilty. Eventually, he turned to me and yelled, "What are you looking at? Do you still have an issue after being beaten up?"
I remained silent. Throughout my life, I'd been an obedient person, never seeking trouble. In the eyes of others, I was timid and cautious, but I also had my pride. Confronted by Eliot, I felt a sense of being deceived.
Gary came over and handed me a cigarette, patting my shoulder as he said, "We can consider it fate. Come up with five hundred dollars for me tomorrow, and if you run into any trouble at this school, just find me at FX Internet Cafe."
I nodded awkwardly. Getting beaten and then having to pay money was not something I accepted willingly. But right now, I couldn't resist or choose otherwise.
My uncle had once said that four hands are stronger than two fists, and a brave man can't defeat a crowd. In any situation, it's wise to be pragmatic.
Gary and his group left, and as Eliot was leaving, he threw a sentence at me, asking me to gather another two hundred dollars for him tomorrow. He said he would have my back if anything happened in the future. I nodded and pretended to agree, but deep down, I knew he couldn't be relied upon.
Adrian and Bill also followed suit, completely disregarding my well-being. In a blink of an eye, I was left alone in the small alley. Sitting on the ground, my nose tingled, and the accumulated grievance burst forth in quiet sobs.
I despised the people who beat me up, and I loathed my wretched uncle even more. If it weren't for him insisting on my transfer to this school, if only I could have reached him on the phone today, I wouldn't have been subjected to this beating...
After crying for a while, I felt somewhat relieved. I made up my mind to take the bus back home, vowing not to suffer in this damn school any longer. Besides, I had no money to give to Gary. I knew that if I couldn't come up with the money tomorrow, they would surely continue to beat me.
I picked up the broken pieces of my glasses from the ground, walked out of the small alley's entrance, and spotted a familiar figure at the school gate – my wretched uncle! I quickly wiped away my tears and the dirt on my clothes, afraid he might notice.
Beside my uncle was a white BMW, and inside the car sat several heavily tattooed guys...
I rubbed my eyes carefully to make sure I wasn't mistaken. It really was my uncle!
Throughout the year, he always had a penchant for wearing white shirts and impeccably polished shoes. Don't be fooled by his well-groomed appearance; I was the only one who knew about his unreliable and carefree nature. I couldn't understand how he managed to know so many sketchy characters from the underworld.
Initially, I had planned to return to school to clean up and change my clothes, but he spotted me from a distance, nonchalantly puffing on his cigarette and beckoning me over. With a stern expression, I reluctantly walked towards him, thinking what a darn nuisance he was. Why did he choose to show up just after I got beaten?
Uncle sized me up from head to toe, his smile fading, and his expression turning serious. He immediately questioned, "What's going on here? On your first day at this new school, you end up like this?"
"Nothing, just tripped accidentally. What are you doing here?" I replied in an irritated tone, trying to maintain some semblance of pride in front of him.
"Amazing, really. This trip must have been quite extraordinary, leaving your eyes red and your face swollen. Even your glasses shattered to pieces," he said with a strange tone. My nose tingled, and I nearly burst into tears.
My uncle had always been sharp-eyed since I was a child. Nothing escaped his scrutiny. Clenching my fists, I gritted my teeth and said, "It's none of your business. I want to go home!"
"To hell with that! Daring to turn my nephew into this wretched state, there's no way I'll let it slide like this! Get in the car first before we talk!"
His words left me frozen in place. He was completely different from before. I didn't expect him to react so strongly, nor did I expect that the white BMW parked nearby was his. Seeing a few heavily tattooed guys inside the car, I suddenly felt more confident.
My resentment toward him from earlier had completely vanished. I thought, if my uncle had arrived a bit earlier, I wouldn't have gotten beaten up. It would have been Gary and his gang instead. If Shirley had seen my uncle, she wouldn't have dared to lay a finger on me!
I got into the car and recounted the whole incident to him, even mentioning the money issue. My heart told me that my uncle would definitely rally some people for revenge. But I never anticipated his response, leaving me dumbfounded.
"Jim, you fool, were your hands born only to shovel shit? They beat you up, and you can't even fight back? Can't you at least gouge out their eyes? Didn't I tell you that from a young age?"
"I..."
I wanted to say that I couldn't fight back, but then I remembered my uncle's words from the past: if you can fight, then fight; if you can't, gouge out their eyes. Even the most arrogant person fears having their eyes gouged. But despite the simplicity of his words, it was a terrifying prospect.