Chapter 1
To his utter annoyance, they showed up forty minutes late to the deal.
No, make that forty-one minutes.
Kei Matoba glared at the car clock and clicked his tongue in irritation. While he was not particularly punctual himself, he could not believe the nerve of those casually strolling towards him, making him wait this long. The two figures approached slowly from under the street lamp a block away, as if they were merely taking a dog for a walk.
Don't get so worked up, boss.
Rick Fury tried to calm him from the passenger seat.
These are the kind of guys who'd be late to their own parents' funeral. If you get upset every time, you'll wear yourself out.
I know, I know, but still . . .
Kei muttered in a grumpy voice and casually checked his appearance in the sun visor mirror.
His Versace suit shone with a calm luster. His black hair was neatly combed, and his eyebrows were well shaped.
A slight shadow of a beard was visible as he had not been home in two days. Though as a buyer in this rough industry, he looked decent enough, his inherent ruggedness cleverly disguised by luxury.
I've got another commitment after this.
With a lady?
Kei took a few seconds to decide how to respond to Rick's question. Explaining the situation seemed like too much of a hassle, so he just nodded vaguely.
Yeah, something like that.
I'm jealous. I've barely spoken to my wife in a week.
It's not a relationship to be jealous of. The closer we get, the more we end up hurting each other.
Kei grumbled, and Rick quietly chuckled.
You know, that sort of excitement is what makes relationships between men and women nice.
It's not nice at all.
Ah, the troubles of young Kei Matoba. Shall we get going?
Yeah, let's get this over with quickly.
The Filipino dealers were getting close now.
Kei opened the car door and stepped out into the night alley. Rick grabbed the Subway paper bag that he had been carefully resting on his knees and followed him out of the car.
The area was deserted. The light from street lamps reflected off puddles formed by the evening rain. While the main street was bustling with people and shops were still open, here it was deep into the night. The two Filipinos, both dressed in printed T-shirts, stood alone; one carried an outdated boombox, the other a black duffel bag.
Kei and Rick confronted the two Filipino men.
The Filipinos observed them with probing eyes. Kei was tall and broad-shouldered, while Rick was slim and narrow-shouldered. Standing together, they presented a striking contrast.
So, where's the money?
Without preamble, one of the Filipinos, who had "5-0" printed on his T-shirt, questioned them bluntly.
Hmph, you've got some nerve to make us wait an hour for you. Who do you think you are? I was on pins and needles wondering when the cops might show.