Chapter 177 People Leave, Guns Fire
In front of a small, two-story building near North Station in Pine City's Black Street District, a car rolled to a stop. Adam stepped out and said, "Stay here. I'll be quick."
"Got it," Milton replied.
Adam adjusted his jacket, climbed the stairs, and entered the building.
Seven or eight minutes later, in the second-floor living room...
A bald, middle-aged man in pajamas, wiping his nose, asked, "Want some coffee?"
"No, thanks. Just need a quick chat," Adam said, settling on the sofa. "You feeling okay?"
"Pneumonia. Just got over the fever," the bald man coughed, sitting across from Adam. "Is everyone at home gone?"
"Yeah, all set," Adam replied, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. "Why've you been hanging around Black Street lately?"
"Bought this place. Lots going on at home. Needed a break," the bald man replied.
Adam took a drag on his cigarette. "Hubert, how much stock do we have left?"
"Not much," Hubert Diaz replied after a moment. "Maybe five big shipments if we gather everything."
"Get in touch with our usual contacts. Move those shipments ASAP," Adam instructed.
Hubert looked surprised. "You really getting into the drug business with William?"
"Not just that," Adam said, frowning. "Zephyr's death stirred things up. We've been close to William, and the Black Street cops are getting jealous. We need to keep a low profile."
Hubert sighed. "I wasn't keen on Zephyr running the gun business. But you insisted he could handle it with my backing. Less than a year in, he stopped listening. Duke, one of his guys, messed up. To make more money, his crew sold low-priced goods from others. Zephyr didn't punish them, and now we're in this mess. It's frustrating."
Adam looked at Hubert, silent for a long time, then nodded. "You're right. I was too lenient with Zephyr."
"Logically, I shouldn't be saying this now that he's gone," Hubert coughed. "But we've all gotten a bit arrogant. Success makes you enemies."
"I get it," Adam nodded.
Hubert thought for a while andthen said, "Maybe getting into drugs isn't so bad. We've been doing too much gun trafficking. Even legit groups don't make as much as we do. No one in Riverside District has made money except us."
"Yeah," Adam said, exhaling smoke. "Once those bandits are caught, I'll talk to William. In the meantime, reorganize the company. We'll transition."
"Okay," Hubert nodded.
"Alright, take care. I'm heading out," Adam said, putting out his cigarette and standing up.
"I'll walk you out."
"No need, it's freezing out there. Stay here," Adam waved him off and headed for the stairs.
Hubert, still by the sofa, suddenly asked, "Donovan Hawkins from the Legislative Council has a birthday party this month. How much should we give him?"
Adam paused. "Did he tell you himself?"
"Yeah," Hubert nodded.
"Give him two hundred grand," Adam decided. "My proposal for the Riverside District commercial street is stuck with him. He's hinting for a favor."
"Got it."
"Keep the books clean," Adam reminded.
"I know."
"Alright, I'm off," Adam said, heading downstairs.
Ten minutes later, on the road...
Adam sat in the car, chin resting on his hand, deep in thought.
From the driver's seat, Milton glanced at Adam through the rearview mirror and asked, "Adam, you seem upset?"
Adam sighed. "Hubert's got issues with the company."
Milton was surprised.
"Zephyr's been overstepping, and I've been too focused on political power. We've neglected Hubert," Adam explained. "I think Hubert might want to pull out and go solo within a year."
"Why would he do that?" Milton frowned. "He wouldn't be where he is without us. Now that there's a crisis, he wants to bail? It's not that easy."
Adam looked at Milton, a mix of helplessness and disappointment on his face, but said nothing.
Back at the house...
Hubert returned to his bedroom, sat on the bed, and dialed a number.
"Hello? Hubert."
"Get in touch with the out-of-town bandits. Tell them I have a batch of low-priced goods that need to move fast," Hubert said coldly. "Price is three points lower than usual. They need to pick it up in the next couple of days."
"Got it."
"Also, withdraw two hundred grand from the account for me. I need it."
"How should I log it?"
"Mark it as a purchase," Hubert replied after a moment.
"Understood."
"That's it." Hubert hung up, took off his pajamas, and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower before an afternoon nap.
Downstairs...
Hubert's driver was on the sofa, watching a live stream of girls on a web channel, chatting away.
The door opened, and a masked man, leading four others, walked in.
The driver looked up. "Who are you guys?"
The masked man tilted his head and raised his gun, aiming at the driver's head.
"Wha... wha... what are you doing..."
Before he could finish, the silenced gun fired.
Blood sprayed across the living room, and the driver, eyes wide open, slumped back onto the sofa.
Upstairs, Hubert vaguely heard a noise but couldn't make it out. He shouted, "What's going on down there?"
The masked man, gun in hand, gestured to his crew, "Upstairs."
A few minutes later...
Hubert screamed, "What do you want? Money? There's twenty grand in the drawer. We can talk!"
Two more gunshots rang out, this time from an unsilenced gun.
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