Through the tinted glass, he could see the gradually rising dusk, Kyoto’s vibrant nightlife with its large neon sign nearby.
—Elsa’s Home.
"We’ve arrived."
The envoy pointed towards the car door, indicating he should get off.
Huai Shi was completely stunned: "You’re starting work right now?"
"Swift actions, Huaizhi-kun." The envoy said: "You can consider this as an assessment, your upcoming treatment in Green Day depends on the outcome of this task."
Huai Shi looked bewildered at the noisy nightclub outside the window, turned back, glanced at the two envoys, and started pondering a question—wasn’t there talk about food provided en route when we got in the car earlier?
It’s freezing cold, you Green Day folks don’t even let a starving ghost live!
If this vest were still Huai Zhisu, he’d practically be ready to throw punches. How would you be satisfied with us second fifths living... Oh, I am a second fifth, then never mind.
With the mindset of "I’m here anyway, still young, everyone’s trying," Huai Shi briskly coughed, opened his mouth, and asked, "Hey... have you guys eaten yet?"
.
.
Fifteen minutes later, having cleared out all the oden in two streets’ convenience stores, Huai Shi contentedly wiped his mouth, looked up and smiled at Fujimoto’s drained wallet and complex expression: "Sorry, us strongmen eat a lot, expend a lot!"
"No worries, no worries." Fujimoto forced a smile with difficulty: "Young people are growing, eat more."
"That’s a bit embarrassing then."
"No worries, no worries, it’s expected."
"Well, since you said so..." Huai Shi turned around and raised his hand to the store clerk, "Please heat up another five chicken legs! And two cans of beer too, thank you!"
Is there anything happier than getting a free meal aside from drawing cards for free?
Nope!
Huai Shi couldn’t help but want to praise Green Day.
If this were written in a book, it might even become a touching story:
There was a wandering hybrid strongman who visited the local wealthy Green Day family, asking to join them for a meal. Green Day warmly hosted him, and that night, the hybrid strongman killed their entire family or something...
After nearly finishing all instant foods in the convenience store, Huai Shi finally patted his belly, sighed deeply, "Thanks for the hospitality!"
"Good that you’re full, good that you’re full,"
Fujimoto’s expression twitched, forcing a smile as he looked at him: "If you’re full, then should we... should we..."
"But my stomach’s still a bit hungry."
Huai Shi got up with a face full of emotions, rubbed his belly, walked a few steps, then suddenly turned and asked, "How about we switch places and continue?"
Fujimoto felt like he was going crazy, desperately wanting to punch him.
Better stop eating, get to work quickly!
"Okay, okay, why so fierce?" Huai Shi sighed and shrugged, itching to point at the van outside, directing him to speak to Green Day.
After taking a few steps out, he slapped his forehead and returned to ask, "Oh right, Brother Fujimoto, have you ever heard of the Knight-Errant story...?"
"Never heard it, don’t want to hear it, shut up!"
Fujimoto furiously: "Get lost and go to work!"
Huai Shi shrugged, pushed the door open, and walked straight towards that nightclub called Elsa’s Home.
And during the time he delayed, Ai Qing had already thoroughly investigated his upcoming opponent.
"Sergeiyevich Mikhailov Sarenko."
Ai Qing looked down at the document in his hand and told him: "Russian-Yingzhou mixed, forty-two years old, nicknamed ’Mongrel’ and ’Old Hyena’. One of the biggest smugglers in Kyoto, secretly running snakehead operations, traffics slaves, known for often obtaining hybrid products... those cat-eared, dog-eared kids, you know what I mean? Many scumbags like them..."
"Doesn’t that mean I’ll represent Green Day to do justice today?"
Huai Shi responded via Source Substance communication, step by step walking under the neon lights, looking towards the luxurious doors, from behind which vaguely came a noisy rock sound.
Continuously, fashionably dressed handsome men and beautiful women queued to go in and out, business obviously booming.
While in front of the door, a few burly Russian Federation guards coldly scanned anyone approaching.
Huai Shi hadn’t queued yet but was already stopped.
The guards’ sharp eyes had long seen through to Huai Shi’s attire, without any brands, entirely made up of ragged gear, not their customer.
Ever since arriving in Yingzhou, it seems even robust Russian Federation folks have become polite, without rough pushing, merely signaling to stop: "Sir, we’re a membership club, not welcoming outsiders."
Didn’t choose to angrily rebuke, lest Huai Shi turned out to be some rich guy who likes cosplay and is here fishing for fun. It’s said this kind of thing happens a lot, why else would people say rich folks are all perverts...
Huai Shi was lost.
The other didn’t resort to violence right away, so even he didn’t know what to do next in the plot.
Getting physical doesn’t seem good, they’re pretty polite... they’re all working, no need to make it hard on workers.
The newbie Yakutza Huai Zhisu was bewildered: First-time crashing a venue, how to act like you’ve done it often? Online waiting, pretty urgent.
In the slowly serious and cold gazes of the guards, Huai Shi thought a bit, rationally analyzed, finally nodded, "Oh" and turned to leave.
???
In the carriage not far away, several people monitoring here felt like ten thousand question marks popped in their minds: What the hell are you doing? Came here just to borrow the toilet?
After walking back several steps, Huai Shi realized something wasn’t right, quickly halted, turned back to go forward again.
Yet this time, the guards’ expressions weren’t as pleasant.
Becoming serious and cold.
With hostility.
"I told you, sir, we’re a membership club,"
The burly guard reached for the electric baton at his waist: "We don’t welcome outsiders."
"Hey..."
Huai Shi raised his hand, slapped his forehead, and seriously said: "Do, do you guys... recruit here?"
Under the glow of neon lights, he lifted his bangs, revealing a handsome face, shyly smiling.
Blinding the guards’ eyes.
He’s always been good at being a Cowherd.