The Right to Die Together

The Right to Drag Everyone Down to Hell

With Franklin paving the way, Downton soon arrived in the vicinity of the Iceberg Club.

I say "vicinity" rather than the club itself because the taxi was flagged down by three burly men who approached them.

"Hey, what are you doing? Why are you hauling people here?"

The lead thug knocked on the car window and peered inside after the driver rolled it down.

"Hell, isn't this Donnie? Walter's cousin or uncle, right? Your cousin or nephew is already running with Boss Oswald—don't you know the rules around here? Without permission, you taxi drivers aren't allowed to bring anyone here before the club opens! If you've forgotten, let me remind you again: the club opens at four-thirty every afternoon, and it's only three-twenty-one right now!"

As he spoke, the thug kept shoving his large gold watch into the taxi driver's face.

The driver didn't panic at the thug's reprimand; instead, he flicked the Franklin in his hand toward the man.

"Hey, buddy, look closely at what this is, and then take a good look at who I'm carrying. Just for dropping this big spender off, I've already pocketed over three thousand in tips. You guess how much more this big shot has in his bag!"

Once he finished, the driver turned back with a fawning expression and gave Downton a comical salute.

"Boss, don't mind me calling you a big spender. These street thugs don't like hearing words like 'wealthy'—it makes them want to grit their teeth. Anyway, I've brought you to your destination. You can find the Iceberg Club just by following them. If they won't take you, just show them the dough in your bag to open their eyes, haha!"

"Alright, you did a good job, pal!"

Downton pushed the car door open with an arrogant air, then lifted his chin dismissively and spoke to the three thugs surrounding them.

"Stop standing there like idiots. Hurry up and take me inside the club to drink my fill, then find me a dozen broads with big tits and asses so I can wash my face in their cleavage!"

As he finished, Downton fished a thick stack of bills from his bag and slammed them against the thug's chest.

The thug was stunned by Downton's move and instinctively wanted to throw a punch, but the scent of ink wafting from the cash made him stop in his tracks.

Another thug leaned into his ear and whispered.

"This rich idiot just threw at least eight thousand at us. I saw his bag—there's more in there, looks like at least two or three hundred thousand, all in cash!"

"Y-yeah, that's right!"

Hearing this, the thug who had been slapped with the money fully snapped to his senses.

"It's three-thirty now, an hour before the club opens. By rights, you'd have to wait until four-thirty to get in. But I can take you to the dancers' backstage area for an hour early."

The thug looked left and right, then leaned in close to Downton and whispered.

"Aside from not being able to drink, you'll see way more girls than you would late at night. But if the boss finds out, you can't say you're here to party. Just say you're my cousin and I'm bringing you here to broaden your horizons, got it?"

"OK, pal!"

Facing the thug's inquiry, Downton grinned and gave the man a heavy pat on the shoulder.

"Whether it's more beauties or the act we're putting on, I like both. Let's go—even if I can wait, my prick sure as hell can't!"

Downton had never seen what a real high-roller looked like, but as long as he kept his mouth full of filth, getting past these low-level thugs wouldn't be a problem. After all, he still had money to pave the way.

Having received Downton's promise, the thug didn't ask any more questions and began picking up the money with the other two.

Once they finished, they led Downton to the entrance of the Iceberg Club.

Seeing them bring a stranger along, the gangster actually in charge of guarding the door frowned.

"Bartel, what are you doing? Who is this Asian?"

"I'm his cousin. Look, brother, don't give me any trouble—I just want to see what it's like!"

Before the thug named Bartel could answer, Downton pulled out another stack of bills and shoved them into the guard's arms.

Behind Downton, Bartel looked at the cash in the guard's hands with envy, then leaned in to explain to the guard.

"Buddy, this is my cousin. You wouldn't doubt me, would you? I told you guys I had a rich cousin, and you said I was bragging. Tsk, take the cash my cousin tipped you!"

Bartel shoved past the guard and led Downton into the club.

After walking through an exceptionally dark corridor and descending two flights of stairs, the sound of restless music finally reached Downton's ears.

To the side, Bartel was still explaining things to Downton.

"Usually, when we aren't open for business, this is where our own family members come to hang out. The lighting is very dim, so just stay close to me and nothing will happen."

As he spoke, Bartel led Downton over to a group of people.

"Cheney, take your men and help me stand guard for a shift. I've got a relative here to see the sights!"

While saying this, Bartel pulled out seven or eight hundred-dollar bills and tossed them into Cheney's lap.

Cheney picked up the cash and counted it, his mouth immediately stretching into a grin.

"Boys, Bartel is paying us eight hundred bucks to stand guard for a shift; we've got to show him some respect!"

"Haha, it's rare for Bartel to be willing to spend money!"

"Yeah, old Bart, didn't you usually spend all your money on women? I'm surprised you had any left!"

"Let's go, let's go. I've had just about enough to drink anyway, I'm going to head to the seaside to take a leak."

The group chimed in one after another, grabbing their respective shares of the cash and heading off to stand guard for the three of them.

With the security issue resolved, Bartel felt relieved and proceeded to lead Downton into the dancers' dressing room.

The sudden entry of men didn't cause the dancers to show the slightest bit of panic; in fact, many of them, seeing that men had arrived, deliberately took off the stockings they had already put on just to put them back on again.

Instead, the sexy woman in charge swayed over with a fan in her hand, her gaze lingering particularly on Downton's face before she scoffed.

"Bartel, is it? One of Oswald's useless little lackeys. You should be grateful I even remember your name. Besides that, you should know this isn't a place you have the qualifications to visit, let alone bringing someone else along. Are you high?"

"You!!!" The woman's words left Bartel feeling humiliated and furious.

He certainly knew he was just an insignificant lackey, and that a high-end place like the backstage dressing room was only for big clients and the family's captains to enjoy. But he didn't want the truth spoken aloud by someone else!

So, Bartel grabbed Downton by the arm.

"Sister Liv, I told you before that I wouldn't be a lackey forever, and I told you I really do have a very wealthy cousin! Look, I brought him here! I don't have the qualifications, fine, then I'll leave, but you'd better take good care of my cousin. You'll find out soon enough whether he has the qualifications or not!"

As he finished speaking, Bartel, his face flushed red, tightened his grip on Downton's sleeve.

"You just have a good time here. Sister Liv is a favorite of Boss Falcone, and she and her girls know exactly how to serve you! I'll be outside drinking; if you need anything, just call me!"

"No problem."

Downton nodded at Bartel, then reached into his bag and pulled out a stack of cash, stuffing it into Bartel's hand as the dancers' eyes lit up.

Amidst Bartel's bewildered and pleasantly surprised expression, Downton smiled and said to him:

"You don't look like you've been having a very easy time, but I appreciate your help. Although I haven't been in Gotham long, this city will hear my name sooner or later. If you ever want to change your way of life in the future, just follow my reputation and stand before me. Perhaps I'll give you an opportunity, just as you gave me an opportunity to come here and have some fun. Oh, and I forgot to mention—I am Downton, Downton of Downton Abbey!"

With that, Downton pushed Bartel's shoulder, ushering him and his brothers out.

Once the three of them disappeared, the woman known as Liv shook her head lightly.

"Cousins, huh? Tsk tsk, a boring joke. Young man, you certainly have plenty of money, but if you let a small-timer like that bring you here, you've wasted your cash. A referral is sometimes far more important than wealth. Even if you have all the money in the world, if you don't even have a qualified introducer, which woman here do you think would be willing to get on her knees to do anything for you?"

"Don't say it like that. In my eyes, there is no difference between small-timers and big shots."

Downton interrupted Liv, sitting down unceremoniously on the most luxurious sofa in the room. He reached both hands into his travel bag, pulled out tens of thousands of dollars in cash, and tossed it straight toward the ceiling.

Watching the bills flutter down and some of the dancers who could no longer restrain themselves begin to scramble for the money, Downton sneered and grabbed Liv's hand, pulling her into his lap.

"As for the identity of an introducer, that kind of meaningless thing cannot compare to generosity. I am generous enough tonight, and I imagine I will be in the future as well. So, tell me, can a generous man like me ask you a question?"

"Of course you can."

Watching the girls happily stuffing cash into their panties, Liv pursed her lips and chuckled, leaning into Downton's ear. "But this question had better not be too difficult."

"It won't be difficult for you. I just want to know where the Sabatino family's lair is."

As Downton spoke, Liv suddenly stiffened.

Meeting Downton's smile, Liv furrowed her brows and said:

"This question is difficult, extremely difficult!"

"But you know the answer. After all, this is the Iceberg Lounge, Falcone's core territory. Being able to manage a group of people in a place like this, even if they are only showgirls, means you must be well-informed."

Downton gently rubbed Liv's stomach, then showed her the open travel bag.

Following the hand Downton used to push aside the banknotes, Liv saw clearly what was hidden inside the bag, and she couldn't help but grit her teeth, for the contents of the bag were exceptionally clear.

Half of the bag was filled with wealth, and the other half was filled with power.

The power to drag everyone down to their deaths!