As Arslan made his way from the strip club to the fast-food joint where he worked, he picked up the pace. Luckily, he arrived just in the nick of time, narrowly avoiding being late.
Behind the counter, Arslan greeted customers with a friendly grin. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction seeing the surprise on his manager's face at his timely arrival. The manager had a habit of wanting to cut Arslan's pay whenever he was late, so Arslan's on-time entrance felt like a small victory in itself for him.
After navigating the bustling influx of customers, Arslan managed to steal a moment of respite, quenching his thirst with a sip of water. His brief interlude was interrupted by the arrival of his manager, a stern expression etched upon his features, clutching a dry mop in hand.
"Alex is out today. Get to work and clean the restroom floors," the manager's directive cut through the air with an icy edge, aimed squarely at Arslan. Without a word in response, Arslan silently accepted the task at hand, seizing the mop with determination as he swiftly made his way to the restroom to fulfill his duties.
Upon completing the meticulous task of cleaning the restroom floors, Arslan returned the tools to their designated spots before dutifully washing his hands. As he made his way back to his post behind the counter, his manager materialized before him once more, bearing a new directive.
"Some tables require cleaning up. Would you mind taking care of that?" The manager's request was delivered with a hint of expectation, to which Arslan responded with a nod and a congenial smile. Without hesitation, he embarked on the next task, seamlessly transitioning to ensure the restaurant maintained its pristine appearance.
After meticulously attending to the cleanliness of the tables, Arslan swiftly restored order to the dining area before his manager reappeared, a fresh task in mind.
"Arslan, the inventory needs to be checked in the back storeroom. Go and handle that as well" The manager's tone was cold and demanding, a subtle hint of challenge lacing his words. Despite the mounting workload, Arslan maintained his composure, his resolve unshaken as he accepted the assignment.
As he ventured into the back storeroom, a flicker of frustration danced in his eyes, the weight of his manager's relentless demands beginning to take its toll. However, with a deep breath to steel himself, Arslan plunged into the task at hand, determined to meet each challenge head-on, even as the manager's attempts to overwork him seemed increasingly apparent.
"I think today ain't any easier for you like always," a voice chimed in, belonging to a young man clad in the same uniform as Arslan. With a mischievous grin and his work hat slightly askew, the young man stood at the storeroom door, observing Arslan's predicament.
"Yeah, this fool is trying to make me do something stupid to lose this job, like always," Arslan muttered as he hoisted a box onto the shelf, his frustration palpable as he jotted down notes on a board clutched in his hand.
"Why don't you do something stupid then? It's not like you need this job after becoming a champ" Ryder, teased as he approached Arslan, who paused in his task to regard his friend with a serious expression.
"Everything has its time, Ryder," Arslan replied solemnly, causing his friend to shrug before rolling up his sleeves and joining Arslan in the work.
"What else do you have left?" Ryder inquired, to which Arslan gestured towards a stack of boxes on the back shelf that required attention. Without hesitation, Ryder sprang into action, eager to assist his friend.
The two worked in tandem, swiftly completing the task at hand before settling atop a stack of boxes. As they caught their breath, Arslan shared a piece of news with Ryder.
"Elijah just gave me a job outside of the arena," Arslan revealed, prompting a look of anticipation on Ryder's face.
"Really? What is it?" Ryder's curiosity piqued.
"Nothing major, just collecting some money from someone who isn't paying what he owes," Arslan explained, causing a flicker of disappointment to cross Ryder's features.
"What's with that face?" Arslan inquired, observing his friend's expression shift as Ryder began tidying up his attire.
"Nothing, I just thought we finally had the chance to make it big," Ryder lamented, his eagerness to delve into the lucrative opportunities presented by the notorious crime lord Elijah evident in his disappointment upon realizing the job's modest nature.
Arslan couldn't help but chuckle at Ryder's ambition before playfully swatting the back of his head. "How do you plan to make a move without a solid foothold? We'd be easy pickings for other crews or risk losing what little we have," Arslan cautioned, aware of the dangers that came with overreaching in their precarious position.
"We could just grab Marco's corner right now. He's wide open without backup to push us back," Ryder proposed eagerly, his hunger for recognition and success driving his impulsive suggestions.
"Not the right time for that. So, are you joining me on this job, or should I handle it solo?" Arslan posed the question to Ryder, giving his friend the opportunity to partake in the task at hand, not out of necessity, but out of a desire to see Ryder reap the rewards alongside him.
Despite both Arslan and Ryder's participation in the underground fighting circuit, with Arslan enjoying greater success with a record of no losses compared to Ryder's 4 wins and 3 losses, Arslan remained supportive, seeking to uplift his friend in their shared pursuit of financial stability.
"Fine, I'll come with you," Ryder conceded to Arslan, their camaraderie evident as they prepared to exit the storeroom. However, their departure was abruptly halted by the appearance of the manager, standing with an inscrutable expression that foreboded more misery for the young Arslan.
"I have another task for you," the manager's announcement elicited a weary sigh from Arslan, his shoulders slumping in resignation. A faint chuckle escaped Ryder's lips as he made his exit, leaving Arslan to contend with yet another demand from their relentless supervisor.
===================
After completing their shift at the fast-food restaurant, Arslan and Ryder found themselves stationed in front of a corner store, sipping on soda as they fixated their gaze on the bar across the street.
Their attention was unwavering, their eyes glued to the door, anticipating the emergence of their target based on the intel provided by Elijah. The tension in the air was palpable as they awaited the pivotal moment.
"How long is this man going to stay in there? Isn't he supposed to be a father of four or something?" Ryder voiced his impatience, discarding his empty soda can with a flick of his wrist.
"Just be patient, he'll leave at the end," Arslan reassured, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, his demeanor calm and collected.
"I have a fight in a few hours, and this guy is wasting my time," Ryder grumbled, contemplating a more aggressive approach to expedite the situation. "Should I go in and try to flush him out?" he suggested, seeking Arslan's input.
"Nah, no need for that," Arslan interjected, recognizing the strategic advantage of allowing their target to remain unaware of their presence. He understood that biding their time would yield a more favorable outcome, affording them an easier opportunity to handle the situation effectively.
"Tell me about him again, I wasn't paying attention the first time," Ryder requested as he settled into a squat, lighting up a cigarette to while away the time. Arslan assumed a casual stance, leaning against the wall as he recounted the details.
"His name is David, 39 years old, divorced, father of four, currently unemployed. He borrowed money from the old man to start a business promising a good return. At first, he made the payments as agreed, but he's now fallen behind," Arslan briefed Ryder on their target's background and predicament.
"What kind of hustle did he get into?" Ryder inquired, his curiosity piqued as he took a drag from his cigarette. Arslan swirled the remnants of his drink before shedding light on David's questionable enterprise.
"He started a bot farm," Arslan revealed, prompting a puzzled expression from Ryder. Sensing his friend's confusion, Arslan clarified, "He's involved in selling fake followers and views online."
Ryder nodded in comprehension, about to delve deeper into the topic when Arslan interrupted, their attention diverted as their target finally emerged from the bar that he was in.
"Enough of that, our cash cow is on the move," Arslan declared, discarding his empty soda can and setting off at a leisurely pace, with Ryder falling into step beside him.
David staggered through the deserted streets, his intoxication apparent in his unsteady gait and lack of awareness. Arslan and Ryder trailed behind him, silent and stealthy, their presence akin to looming shadows.
As they traversed several blocks, the trio arrived at an isolated street, devoid of any passersby or vehicles, presenting the opportune moment for their planned intervention.
Ryder deftly retrieved a small pipe concealed on his person, while Arslan vigilantly scanned their surroundings to ensure their privacy before proceeding.
With synchronized precision, the duo sprinted towards David, and Ryder swiftly wielded the pipe, delivering a decisive blow to the back of the man's head, causing him to crumple to the ground.
"Knock knock, Motherfucker," Ryder quipped as David collapsed, prompting Arslan to swiftly commence dragging him by his feet towards a nearby alleyway, concealing their actions from prying eyes.
"Who are you? What do you want?" David's voice quivered as he clutched his injured head, bewildered by the sudden turn of events unfolding before him.
"It's the fucking Bank, calling your bitchass dor their money," Ryder spat contemptuously as he vented his frustration, landing a kick on David's prone form as Arslan continued to haul him away.
After leading David further into the secluded alley, Arslan released his grip on the man and loomed over him with a menacing glare, exuding an aura of intimidation as David began to plead for leniency.
"Is this Elijah's doing? I begged him for a few more days to gather the remaining funds," David implored, his voice tinged with desperation. Before Arslan could respond, Ryder delivered another forceful kick to David's midsection, eliciting a pained groan from the helpless debtor.
"Your time is up, you deadbeat," Arslan declared coldly, his tone devoid of mercy as he directed Ryder to search their captive for any valuables or information.
Ryder swiftly began patting down the struggling man, who attempted to resist before succumbing to another agonizing groan as Arslan delivered a forceful kick that resonated with power beyond Ryder's previous strikes.
"The more you struggle, the more pain you'll suffer," Arslan warned David, a hint of empathy underlying his steely tone as he recalled his own past struggles.
Once Ryder completed the search, a wide grin spread across his face as he presented an envelope to Arslan, his eyes alight with anticipation. "It looks like he had a good reason to push back," Ryder remarked, indicating the bulging stack of cash concealed within the envelope, eliciting a subtle smirk from Arslan.
"You got the payment and then some. this should make the old bastard happy, right?" David inquired, attempting to gauge Arslan's response. Arslan swiftly erased any trace of amusement from his expression before issuing a chilling retort.
"Sorry, your situation needs more than cash payments," Arslan declared firmly, reclaiming the envelope and the contents of David's wallet before securing them in his pocket. A silent exchange of nods between Arslan and Ryder signaled their shared understanding of the next course of action.
"Please, spare me. I promise I won't delay it anymore," David implored, desperation lacing his words as the two advanced towards him, causing him to retreat until his back met the unyielding wall of the building behind him.
Arslan and Ryder loomed over David, their expressions unreadable as they cornered him against the cold brick wall. The dim alleyway echoed with the weight of impending consequences, punctuated by David's frantic pleas for mercy.
The sound of punches, Kicks, and groans filled the alley before it slowly started to fade away after what seemed like a long minute of ass whooping that the 39 years old received.
As the alley fell silent, except for David's trembling breaths, the inevitable conclusion of their encounter loomed in the shadows, shrouded in the darkness of the night. The debt would be paid, one way or another.