Darren parked his bicycle a block away from Crane Street. As he secured his briefcase in the seat of the bike, he looked around, scanning the place with his eyes.
The street was quieter than the rest of the city, with streetlights that kept flickering as if it was about to die soon and boarded-up storefronts that made it appear like there was not a soul living here.
This was the kind of place people avoided, not only because of the crime but because even the air here felt heavy with desperation and fear.
"I can't stay here for long," Darren muttered to himself before turning to his left and stepping into the shadows of the street.
The alley Eddie had mentioned was barely noticeable. It seemed like it had been forcefully created, it was a very narrow, dark gap between two crumbling buildings.
There were trash cans by the walls and an iron staircase that led to the top of the building on his left. Darren hesitated only a bit, then letting out a sigh as he remembered who he was doing this food, he continued ahead.
He was walking for quite a long time. The alley seemed endless, and he kept glancing at the dim light of the street lamp that he'd passed, which kept fading with every step he took.
Finally, he arrived at the end of it, and there was a steel door with peeling red paint and a small, circular peephole.
Darren knocked once, his knuckles sounding unnervingly loud against the metal.
The peephole slid open, revealing a pair of cold, sharp eyes. "Password," a gruff voice demanded.
'Eh? Password?' Darren hesitated. He didn't know any password. However, before he could even say anything, the man saw he didn't know any password and the peephole instantly snapped shut.
'Huh?' he seemed confused. 'Are they really not gonna let me in because I don't know the password? Eddie didn't say anything about a password.'
Moments later, the door creaked open, and a massive man, dressed in a tight black shirt that highlighted his muscles, appeared before him. A jagged scar ran across his forehead, and his arms were crossed in a stance that dared anyone to make a wrong move.
"No password, no entry," the man said, his voice as deep as a growl.
Darren knew it was unwise to show intimidation. He steadied his voice and replied. "I didn't know there was a password needed. I'm just here to see the boss," he replied firmly.
The man stared him down for what felt like an eternity before stepping aside. "Password Correct."
Darren appeared surprised. "G— huh?"
"Don't waste his time."
After searching him, the man waited for Darren to walk past before following behind him and then closing the door with an ominous bang.
Stepping into the interior, everything was as expected until he walked past the narrow corridor. It was like he'd suddenly stepped into another world.
The contrast was unbelievable. There were neon lights flashing across the dark room, glowing over plush couches and tables that had shots and wine bottles placed on top of them.
A DJ was on an elevated stage, bopping his head to the loud music he was playing, and there scantily-dressed women, curvy, busty and in fact some of them were just completely naked, were dancing and serving drinks.
"Hey, Daddy," one pulled him by his tie as he passed by.
"You don't mind taking care of me, do you?"
Men in suits sat in shadowy corners, discussing deals Darren couldn't hear, while others danced or watched the women dance.
'Jesus,' Darren swore in his mind. 'I had no idea Red Fang was also an exclusive strip club.'
Ding! He could thankfully still hear the notification of the system. The interface appeared before him with some information.
-------------------------------------------------
┏ Insight Protocol Complete: Information on The Red Fang Organization is as follows ┛
┏ Estimated Net Worth: $28.4 million. ┛ ┏Primary Income: Loan sharking, illegal gambling, smuggling, human trafficking, prostitution, illegal harvesting of human body parts ┛
┏ Leader: Rodriguez 'Shank' Tevez ┛
┏ Tactics: Entrapment through unpayable debts, asset seizures, kidnapping and forceful intimidation. ┛
┏ Please note that this is a high-risk interaction. ┛
┏ System's Advice: Proceed with extreme caution. ┛
-------------------------------------------------
'I can't say I'm surprised by any of that. But damn, these are some really rotten people.'
Darren was escorted past the bar and into a private room at the back. Here, the music was muffled, but the tension in the air was suffocating.
It was a more official looking room, with fine cushioned chairs and a single chandelier illuminating the place in silver light.
"Again!" Darren heard a voice yell. Then he heard the sound of a heavy punch, and after that, a whimpering man begging.
"Just one more week. Please! Please! I'll get you the money then!"
Darren didn't hear much after that, but as he got closer, the man scurried out of the room, not looking at anyone but continued to mutter, "Thank you. Thank you."
Taking a silent deep breath to steel himself, Darren walked inside and saw a man sitting at the head of the room who he knew immediately was the boss.
He was lean, with sharp features that gave him a wolfish appearance. He was also bald, and he had tattooed his entire face with a skull. His dark eyes seemed to pierce through Darren as he leaned back in his chair, a glass of whiskey in hand.
Around him were two more bodyguards, both as imposing as the one that had brought Darren in, their hands resting ominously close to the guns holstered at their sides.
"So," the boss said, his voice calm but laced with menace. "Man in suit. What brings you to the Red Fang? You seem too young to be interested in our... activities."
Darren forced himself to maintain the man's gaze. "I want a loan."
"Hah!" the man laughed. "A loan?! Ah, I've seen your type before. Alright, tell me, kid. How much do you need?"
Darren was calm when he replied, "$200,000."
The room fell silent. The boss raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. "Two hundred thousand bloody dollars. Boy's got some nerve. What makes you think I carry that kind of money with me?"
Darren raised a brow and nodded. "I know you do."
The man smirked, as though he was entertained. "Fair enough. But what makes you think we'd hand over that kind of money to a stranger?"
"I'll pay it back in a month," Darren said, giving them his ID. "With the interest you set."
The boss looked at the ID, then at him. "Ethan Steele. You feel very confident. Any business you want to let us in? Any sure bets you're aware of?"
He shook his head. "I just really need the money."
The boss grinned. "Desperation. I like that! It's what makes us rich, isn't it? Preying on desperate people."
The boss leaned forward, setting his glass down on the table. "The interest is 40%. It increases to a hundred if you waste a single day. Is that understood?"
Darren nodded.
Another grin from the boss. "Don't play around, kid. You miss the deadline, we take what we're owed — your assets, your family's assets, and anything else we can get our hands on. And if that's not enough…" His smile widened, but it didn't reach his nasty looking eyes. "Let's just say we have other ways to make you pay."
Darren didn't appear to be afraid at all. "I understand. I'll pay it back."
The boss studied him for a long moment, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. 'Who is this kid?'
Then he snapped his fingers. One of the bodyguards stepped forward, placing a briefcase on the table and opening it. Inside was the money, neatly bundled in stacks of crisp bills.
"Here's your $200,000," the boss said. "One month. No extensions. No excuses."
Darren stepped forward and took the briefcase. He got on his knees, dug his hand inside and inspected the money. This made the boss narrow his eyes. 'He's clever enough to know to check the hidden cash in case they're fake? How does a twenty one year old kid know to do that?'
Darren met his gaze when he was done. "Can I purchase something here?" he asked.
"What could that be?" the boss inquired.
"A gun."
Eyes widened. "Hmm?"
"I have to defend myself in case I get robbed carrying this, don't you think?"
The boss was impressed now. 'He also knows the loan shark tactic of stealing the money after giving it away but still demanding for repayment. This kid has my attention now.'
He snapped his fingers, ordering one of his men. "Get him a glock."
---
And so Darren stepped out after he was done, briefcase of cash in hand, glock in pocket.
┏ Mission Successful! Loan accepted. $200,000 in cash. High-risk liability initiated.┛
┏ Pay back loan in time. Avoid heavy debts. And please, proceed with caution. ┛