4.A War God Lives Up To His Name

No matter where the gang was located, starting out always relied on "shady" sources of income: drugs, gambling, loan sharking, and controlling territories. In Yeosu, thanks to its harbor, which was just across the sea from Fukuoka, Japan, there were also lucrative smuggling operations involving cigarettes, liquor, electronics, and cars. However, these deals required significant capital, and both Lee Tae and Ding Qing weren't in a position to play at that level yet. For now, they had to settle for smaller operations to get by.

"Damn, I need to take a piss," Ding Qing suddenly announced halfway down the road, rushing to the side of the street.

"Damn, you drink a bit of soju and piss like a leaky faucet," Lee Tae grumbled, his face stern. This was the third time Ding Qing had run off to relieve himself since they left, and Lee Tae couldn't help but wonder if his comrade had kidney issues from watching too many adult films.

"Boss," a young man with long legs and a bag slung over his shoulder approached from an alley. "The stuff is ready."

"Oh, it's Tae-soo!" Ding Qing came jogging back, hands still dripping, and playfully smacked the young man on the head. "Aren't you supposed to be studying?"

Park Tae-soo bowed his head. "It's night, Boss. I'm studying later."

"Go back and hit the books," Ding Qing waved him off, then handed the bag to a large guy who opened it to reveal a shiny watermelon knife.

"Skinny old man," Ding Qing teased, "soon you'll learn what a real boss is."

"Just make sure you don't go off to piss again," Lee Tae retorted, glancing at the few men who walked ahead of them, shoulders tense. Not everyone shared Ding Qing's love for movies and girls. Many of the guys preferred to hit the arcade at night, hoping for some luck and a win. It was all about chasing that high.

The zip of the bag opened, revealing cold steel weapons. As their eyes turned red with adrenaline, they knew what it meant—on the streets, you were either broke by midnight or rich by dawn. To rise up in the ranks, the only option was to carve out a path with the weapons in hand.

For Lee Tae, if he wanted to climb to the top, he needed followers. And to recruit, he needed income. The arcade business was a reliable goldmine—one he couldn't afford to pass up.

"It's either riches or begging on the streets—your choice."

"Go!" As soon as Lee Tae gave the order, Zhang Qian, clutching a knife, charged into the arcade like a hungry wolf, with five others quickly following behind him.

Ding Qing's eyelids twitched. He was just about to take another bathroom break but, seeing how fearless his guys were, gritted his teeth and rushed in behind Lee Tae.

Inside the arcade, five rows of machines stretched out, packed with people who were so engrossed in their games they didn't even notice the newcomers. When you're riding a high, who cares if there's a knife at your back?

From the manager's office, six or seven guys wielding baseball bats burst out, cursing loudly. "You little bastards! How dare you mess with the Empire faction! You want to die?"

Without hesitation, Zhang Qian moved first, his blade flashing as he plunged it into one of the men. The blade went in clean and came out blood-red. He took down one, then another three before anyone had time to react. His efficiency was both ruthless and terrifying, instantly intimidating the rest of the group.

"Damn," Ding Qing's eyes widened as he grabbed Lee Tae and pulled him aside, whispering, "Where did you find this kid? He's crazier than you!"

"From the North," Lee Tae replied calmly, slipping his own watermelon knife into the back of his belt. There wasn't even a need for him to act.

"Give me a smoke," Ding Qing, feeling overwhelmed, gestured for a cigarette. He always craved one when he got excited. The two stood at the entrance, puffing away as they watched their men wreak havoc. In no time, their opponents were on the ground, groaning in pain.

"From now on, this arcade belongs to Bukdaemun," one of the guys yelled, kicking a fallen man. "You're lucky we're letting you live!"

"Alright, everyone, back to playing!" Ding Qing called out to the patrons, who had been watching the fight in stunned silence. "We're giving you 10% off today!"

"Yeah!" the players cheered and quickly resumed their games, as if nothing had happened.

"Boss," Zhang Qian approached after wiping the blood off his knife with a cloth. "Should we take over the next arcade too?"

"Any problems?" Lee Tae asked.

"None."

"Do it."

Lee Tae glanced at his system screen, where the rewards notification appeared. Just 1 attribute point. He frowned slightly. The system was being stingy—it wasn't easy spilling blood for such a small reward.

"Damn, brother, what's with the frown? There aren't even any girls here," Ding Qing said, laughing as he dragged Lee Tae into the manager's office. He pulled out the ledger from the desk and flipped through it, his eyebrows practically dancing with glee. "They make a million won a day here."

"Not bad." Lee Tae did some quick calculations. There were three arcades in total, and if each brought in around 5,000 won a day, that would add up to 1.5 million a day. After paying off the higher-ups, they could pocket around 1.2 million. That's 36 million won a month! In a backwater like Yeosu, that was acceptable.

Since the gang members didn't receive a salary unless they were actively working, their only expenses would be food and lodging. In South Korea, the biggest costs were food, housing, and transportation. If he could consolidate the lodging, they could save a lot. With that in mind, Lee Tae quickly made up his mind.

"Ding!"