"So, the thing I've been thinking about most these past two days is: what exactly is my value... who is killing me... who would benefit most if I died." The fat man forced a smile, then blinked at me: "Guess what conclusion I came to?"
"What?"
“I suddenly realized that I’m not actually that valuable.” The fat man laughed. “My cooperation with the Vietnamese only helps them get more drugs. But other Asian gangs—Chinese, Indians, Iranians—will only experience short-term supply shortages. In the long run, they’ll naturally find other drug dealers… There are other drug dealers in the world besides me, Hong Da. It’s just that this year, the plantations in South America suffered a natural disaster, and we drug dealers from Asia suddenly became popular overnight. Besides that, my biggest asset… is the evidence.”
I sat up straight immediately!
“It’s evidence.” Hong Da rubbed his temples hard and said with a wry smile, “I have connections in the Golden Triangle on one hand and North American gangs on the other. You could say I have all the details of drug deals, their transactions, prices, amounts, quantities, even the contacts, accounts…! If the police get these things, it’ll be a huge piece of evidence! But after thinking about it, the people who came to kill me this time definitely aren’t police… and you, I’ve said it before, if you’re a policeman, then I’m the President of the United States!”
I smiled.
The fat man continued, "Then the only explanation is that someone doesn't want me to trade with the Vietnamese anymore. So, in order to stop me from trading with the Vietnamese, I have to die." His eyes dimmed slightly.
"I can't give the Vietnamese anything, at most a larger share of drugs. More transportation channels... I know why the Vietnamese suddenly need so many drugs, they're going to supply them to the Hell Angels. I know exactly what the market is like in North America right now. So the only explanation is that the person who killed me was either Chinese, Iranian, or Indian. Now that I think about it, it's most likely the Chinese. So another question I've been pondering these past few days is: which side are you on?"
The fat man had been speaking slowly and deliberately, but when he said the last sentence, his tone suddenly became crisp and clear!
He stared at me with his beady eyes: "You're Chinese, and the person who killed me was also Chinese. This is making me, Old Hong, a little confused. Okay, putting everyone else aside, I'm wondering about you... what exactly are your intentions towards me?"
He shook his head, as if talking to himself: "The Chinese, whether they're from the Chinese gangs or the Big Circle, all want me dead. You're Chinese, so why didn't you kill me, but instead saved me?"
I sighed and silently said to myself: Who said I wouldn't kill you?
I was going to kill him! But I've been protecting him to lure out Tiger, that traitor, to make the first move...
I can honestly say that if Tiger hadn't betrayed Eighth Master, I would have killed him long ago.
This is why Eighth Master's order was to wait until Hong Da made contact with the Vietnamese before killing him. In reality, this order was meaningless; it was purely a deliberate attempt to create time to lure Tiger into making his move!
Looking at this fat man, I felt a pang of bitterness in my heart, thinking: If it weren't for Tiger, you would have died long ago.
It's ironic: Tiger is the one who wants to kill him, but Tiger's very existence motivates me to protect him and keep him alive.
The fat man shook his head and smiled: "Then I thought of the end. And then I faced a very simple problem..."
He looked at me and said, word by word, "Don't be fooled by how nice you are to me now. But in the end... won't you kill me?"
He seemed to be talking to himself: "In principle, you're definitely going to kill me. Because you're Chinese, and Chinese people certainly won't allow me to cooperate with the Vietnamese. No matter how things change, this fundamental premise remains the same." After saying that, he glanced at me and sighed, "Am I right?"
I am speechless.
"Alright, bro." Hong Da waved his hand, looking very tired. "The reason I'm being so frank with you today is because I've figured things out. Right now, I have a knife to my throat. Whether I cower or stick my neck out, I'll still get stabbed, so... I have no choice but to beg for mercy."
He blinked at me and said, "Let me tell you something: no matter which side you represent, I've decided not to go to Saigon or cooperate with the Vietnamese anymore. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."
He sighed. "Alas, I've been careful my whole life, but in the end, I still capsized... I was doing well in North America this time, and my cooperation with the Chinese community was going well, but I was blinded by greed. The Vietnamese offered me a high price, and I kept saying 'I won't be greedy, I won't be greedy' my whole life, but in my old age, I couldn't resist being greedy once... and in the end, I still hit a wall."
He patted me hard and sighed, "Brother, you're brilliant! You're ostensibly protecting me, but actually you've got me under your control, haven't you? You killed my bodyguard yesterday... I've suspected it all along, but I didn't dare say anything... You're too amazing. My bodyguard and I combined are no match for you. To put it nicely, you're protecting me; to put it bluntly, you've kidnapped me. Isn't that right?"
I felt a little lost.
This fat guy actually came to this conclusion!
"You protected me while getting close to me, and then you turned your backs on me when I was at my wit's end... I, Old Hong, had no choice but to obediently abandon the Vietnamese and turn to you. To hell with the Vietnamese cooperation! My life is more important, so I had no choice but to submit." Hong Da smiled bitterly, looking at me pitifully. "Now you're satisfied... I admit defeat. Tell him who your boss is, I, Hong Da, am convinced. You guys are amazing! This year's deals will be handled by your entire company! Is that alright?"
This time, I was truly stunned.
But I immediately came to my senses!
I never expected things to develop this way! I never imagined that deliberately protecting Tiger, this traitor, for several days would suddenly make Hong Da so afraid of death! His fear of death has led him to abandon his cooperation with the Vietnamese and prepare to defect to us!
I thought for a moment, steadied my breathing, and put on a calm expression: "Dude...you know what...you saved your own life."
This time, Ciro, Tiger, and I each brought a new cell phone with a new number.
When you're out doing business, you can't just use your home phone to make random calls! This is for security and confidentiality.
Therefore, my phone only has the phone numbers of Ciro and Tiger.
Of course, there was also an extra number. This number was given to me by Eighth Master. He told me to come back immediately after I finished my work—and to call this number if I encountered any trouble.
This is an emergency number. Both Siro and I have it.
However, there's one rule... When you're out and about, no matter what happens, the rule is: absolutely no calling home! Under no circumstances should you call Uncle Ba! Nor should you call the repair shop!
That's the rule.
In other words, even if we die outside, it has nothing to do with Master Ba or the repair shop!
This emergency number isn't very long. It's a satellite phone number, without an area code, and belongs to a well-known international satellite phone company.
After a long talk with Hong Da, he cupped his hands in a salute to me and said with a smile, "Brother, my life is in your hands... Little brother, please go easy on me, considering how well we've gotten along these past few days!"
This half-joke, half-serious, left me with a mix of emotions. But I quickly dismissed Hong Da, leaving Xiluo to watch over him. I then went outside to make this emergency call.
"What the hell? At this critical moment, which bastard called?!"
As soon as the call connected, a deep voice came from the other end, carrying a hint of laziness and nonchalance.
The sound stunned me instantly! But I quickly came to my senses.
Indeed, we operate in Southeast Asia. He's the only person we can contact most recently.
I suppressed my excitement and laughed, "Fatty Fang! Brother Fang! Did you recognize my voice?"
"..." There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. This time, the voice was much clearer. Fatty's familiar voice came steadily from the other end: "That guy Eight Fingers said he sent you to do some work, and that he would come to me if there was any trouble... I knew you must have gotten into trouble again... Sigh, sure enough, anything you encounter always ends up in trouble... Damn! Are you still doing alright?"
"I'm in Vietnam." I took a deep breath and then briefly explained the situation.
On the other end of the phone, Fatty Fang remained silent for a while, then chuckled and said, "I know about it. I've been keeping an eye on Hong Da's whereabouts. Otherwise, do you think you could have found him so quickly? That guy is harder to find than a rat! As for what you're talking about..."
The fat man sighed and said slowly, "Let's try to meet up first... I'm in Vietnam too, right now sailing on a yacht, enjoying the sea breeze!"
As I was still wondering what was going on, several gunshots suddenly rang out from the other end of the phone! Then, faintly, there were sounds of explosions and splashing water!
I was stunned, holding the phone: "Dude, what... what happened to you?"
The fat man's hearty laughter came from the other end of the phone, interspersed with the thuds of gunfire; his voice was somewhat broken.
"It's nothing. I ran into some Vietnamese bastards at sea. Damn it, I fought them, and now they're chasing me! Don't worry, I'll keep these guys at sea for a bit, take care of them... then... they'll come looking for you... Damn, they have cannons, but we don't! Pull out the big thing under the crate... and fuck them up..."
The call ended there.
I hung up the phone, feeling a little strange.
Before the call ended, I clearly heard an explosion. The sound seemed familiar—I remembered when I was on the smuggling boat, it was being chased by the Coast Guard, and the gunboat was bombarding the smuggling boat. That was the same kind of explosion!
In other words, the fat man is being chased at sea... and the other ship has cannons!
Damn! Who is he fighting with?
Part 1: In the Jianghu, Not in Control of One's Own Fate, Chapter 175: Fatty's Advice
After that phone call, I couldn't reach Fatty for a full half day; his satellite phone went unanswered. I couldn't help but worry about him: although I knew Fatty was incredibly resourceful, the situation sounded rather dire from that previous phone call…
The room was a mess of clothes, skirts, and women's underwear. We were having so much fun last night that I didn't even notice how many bottles of alcohol we drank.
Anyway, there was already a row of empty whiskey bottles on the floor; I glanced at them and there were about a dozen. The room was full of people lying on the sofa and the floor mats. These girls were all disheveled, their bodies sprawled out, and at first glance, they were quite alluring.
The hangover and revelry meant that some people were still asleep around 10 a.m. Some girls woke up looking exhausted and ran around looking for cigarettes. This scene evoked a sense of nostalgia in me. At least in the past, when I worked in nightclubs, I often witnessed these all-night parties.
Some of the women, after waking up, didn't rush to get dressed—after all, they'd already gone wild the night before, and they didn't care about being naked. They simply grabbed a coat from someone nearby, who they didn't even know, and draped it over themselves. Others were quite generous, asking me if I had any cigarettes.
I smiled, took out a hundred yuan and tossed it to one of them, telling her to go out and buy cigarettes.
I know that the most expensive cigarettes in Vietnam are called Victory Cigarettes, and the high-end ones only cost around twenty yuan a pack. The young lady immediately beamed, took the money, and tiptoed out. She returned a moment later with several packs of cigarettes, and then a group of girls rushed over, laughing and joking, to grab them and smoke.
I rubbed my temples, feeling a bit of a headache.
Although I didn't drink too much last night, my long talk with Hong Da this morning left me with a lot on my mind. I feel a bit drained.
And that fat guy... Sigh. I sighed and dialed again, but still couldn't get through.
After talking with me this morning, Hong seemed to have a weight lifted off his shoulders. He was quite relaxed and took two girls to the small private room next door to catch up on some sleep. As for me, I still had to rack my brains to figure out my next steps.
Xiluo...
In the morning, the three of us were about to leave the nightclub. I lavishly spent money, showing off my status as a big shot, and everyone from the manager to the waiters accepted my tips.
I glanced at Ciro; he seemed to be in better spirits than I was. But he looked very down. I smiled at him, and he grinned at me, a rather unpleasant smile. I tossed him a pack of cigarettes, and Ciro didn't say anything, just silently smoked.
I know he still needs to figure some things out.
At that moment, a pair of soft hands reached out and gently pressed on my head. Then I felt the woman's soft fingers pressing on my temples, gently rubbing and massaging me.
I glanced back and saw the mixed-race beauty. I smiled at her and asked, "Awake?"
Her hair was tousled, and she looked languid, as if she had just woken up. But her eyes were bright. She gently massaged me, whispering, "I'm alright. Luckily, I went out with you last night..."
I understand what she means. Most of the people who stayed in the room had drunk quite a bit, while she went out for a walk with them, didn't drink much, and could still make more money.
I glanced at her and found the girl increasingly pleasing to the eye. She was beautiful, with a subtle, alluring charm. Especially when she first woke up in the morning, she had a languidly seductive look, and her eyes were captivating.
I let out a long sigh, turned around and hugged her tightly, easily lifting her onto my lap. She gasped, then quickly calmed down. A hint of a smile flickered in her eyes, and her small hands began to grope upwards along my thigh…
I gently pressed her hand down and said slowly, "No... could you massage my head? My head hurts a little."
A flicker of disappointment crossed her eyes, but she quickly cheered herself up. I simply lay down on the sofa, resting my head on her lap. Her technique wasn't very skilled; she clearly wasn't good at massage, but thankfully her fingers were soft, and the massage felt very comfortable.
The girls around me were mostly awake, huddled together smoking and chatting in Vietnamese, which I couldn't understand a word of. I thought for a moment, took out my wallet, gave them some money as a tip, and then told them to leave.
I looked up at the mixed-race beauty and said, "You should go back too. You can go home and get some sleep." Then I took out some money and gave it to her. She took the money and casually stuffed it into her pocket. After thinking for a moment, she smiled at me with narrowed eyes and said, "I'll stay with you a little longer and massage you for a bit more."
I smiled but didn't say anything. I sensed that this girl probably had some feelings for me.
"How long will you stay in Hanoi?" After a moment of silence, the girl suddenly asked me.
I smiled but didn't say anything.
"Will you come looking for me again?" Her voice was very gentle.
But I knew that this "gentleness" was professional! Her goal was to get me to come back and support her... Just kidding, I was so generous last night, of course people would be eager to have me at their doorstep!
This girl is smart; no wonder she's a top-tier hostess here. Don't think being a top hostess is easy, and don't think that being a hostess just requires being willing to let customers hug or model you, or to shamelessly strip naked and snuggle into a man's arms... those are the lowest level. Only infatuated men who've never seen a woman before, or lustful devils, would like that kind of thing.
This mixed-race girl is clearly very skilled. She won't snuggle into your arms or deliberately undress to seduce you, but like now, after a hangover, she puts on a gentle act, lightly massaging me, and then looks at me with a loving tone and tender eyes... that's much more sophisticated!
I smiled and said, "I don't know. I'll come see you again when I have the chance."
There was a hint of resentment in her eyes, and I couldn't help but sigh. This girl was incredibly skilled... Back in China, those who could act this convincingly were almost always top-tier, world-renowned courtesans!
I felt her fingers slowly slide down my forehead, intentionally or unintentionally tracing my face, her fingertips gently caressing my skin... finally settling on my chest. Her fingers deftly parted my collar, and she suddenly chuckled, "Huh? What's this?"
Her fingers gently pinched the ring I was wearing around my neck.