For Ma Zhaodi, losing his job in the middle of a shift was every bit as hilarious as watching Seven and the others go into a team fight.
To borrow someone's words, by the time the fight was over, all that was left was the team.
"Wait, what about everyone else from this damn restaurant? They got arrested and they're just keeping them there? What about Falcone? Falcone, come save me!"
He pulled out his phone and called Donald and his supervisor. Sure enough, neither call was answered. That was perfectly normal, though. Even Falcone couldn't lead people into the Gotham Police Department in the middle of the night to rescue someone.
"What about me?" Ma Zhaodi stood alone outside the Red Dragon Restaurant, gradually putting on a look of agony like a husky abandoned by its wolf pack. "I'm unemployed again? I got fired before I even got my end-of-month paycheck?"
Strictly speaking, he hadn't failed to receive his end-of-month paycheck. He had taken an advance of five thousand dollars at the beginning of the month. He just hadn't received the end-of-month Asset Points settlement.
"Damn it, my five thousand dollars' worth of Asset Points!" The thought of the huge fortune he had lost made Ma Zhaodi's heart ache. "Batman, you've got no conscience! You've done every evil deed there is! You're completely inhuman! There are so many days in a month, and you just had to choose payday to go fight criminals. I swear to—"
"What's that guy sitting on the curb mumbling about?"
"No idea. Ignore him. Let's get out of here. Gotham City has so many lunatics—don't go and provoke another one."
The two passersby then saw the man by the roadside lift his head and flip them off. "Screw you."
"Hey, you—"
"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down."
The phone in his pocket suddenly rang. Ma Zhaodi ignored the angry passerby beside him and answered the call on his own.
"Hello? Is this Ma Zhaodi?"
"That's me. And you are?"
"Donald is temporarily stuck in the hospital under police watch and can't get out, but he told us about you—heard you've got some decent abilities?"
Damn, the Falcone family actually has internal referrals. Donald, you're glowing with goodness!
"What kind of abilities are you talking about?" Although he wanted to accept the job on the spot, Ma Zhaodi still asked carefully, "Just so we're clear, I don't use guns."
"He said you've got guts and luck, and that you're quick-witted too. You helped the restaurant get out of a jam."
To be fair, considering the psychological damage his supervisor had suffered throughout the whole incident, it might have been more accurate to say that his supervisor had been the one to handle that trouble.
"That's right, that was me!" Ma Zhaodi admitted on the spot, his gaze firm and his tone decisive. "Donald is a great boss. He saw my potential at a glance. Whenever the restaurant runs into trouble, I'm obviously the first one to step up and help!"
It was obvious that ever since arriving in Gotham, his shamelessness had improved faster than anything except his driving skills.
"Bro, it's not that serious." The man on the other end seemed a little at a loss after Ma Zhaodi's performance. After adjusting his emotions, he continued, "In any case, we won't forget what Donald entrusted to us. But I heard you're new to Gotham and haven't joined any gang yet?"
"That's right. I can't use a gun, and I don't dare hack people up, so I can only make a living by doing odd jobs."
"You don't dare hack people up, but you dare get into a gunfight?" The man on the phone laughed. "Having a clean record is pretty good, though. Come to work tomorrow. And remember, you'll be working for the Falcone family and the Maroni Family, not for every Tom, Dick, and Harry in Gotham City. So prepare yourself properly."
Ma Zhaodi: ?
"Wait, why the hell is there a Maroni Family now? I thought I was barely considered clean. Now I've completely jumped into the black gang's dye vat?"
"Hold on, what kind of job is this?"
"Your old profession. A waiter."
And so, on the very day Ma Zhaodi lost his job, he got a new one. He became one of the Falcone family's dedicated waiters.
As Gotham City's number-one crime family, they naturally had the proper style and grandeur. Family members' weddings and funerals, all kinds of banquets, and social events with other gangs took place one after another during holidays and throughout the year. The waiters were people the family had employed for years or recommended through its members—people who were trustworthy enough and met the required standards. In the sharp-eyed Donald's opinion, Ma Zhaodi was one of them.
Not everyone was willing to show up for work in Gotham through a hail of bullets. Not everyone dared to get into a gang war with the Penguin's gang and still make it home in one piece every night at midnight without having a gang affiliation or knowing how to use a gun. On top of that, his skills as a waiter were good enough, and his luck was freakishly good. He hadn't joined any gang or become anyone's informant, which showed that he wasn't too calculating. In other words, he was sufficiently stupid and sufficiently trustworthy.
Ma Zhaodi: Being an informant doesn't give me Asset Points.
"Remember, Roman is throwing a party on a cruise ship at the end of next month. All of you need to prepare in advance. This is important—both Falcone and Maroni will be attending, so you absolutely cannot mess it up. Ma Zhaodi, if there's anything you don't understand, feel free to ask me."
Ma Zhaodi, dressed in a suit, nodded. Today was his first day of training. Honestly, it felt much the same as working at the Red Dragon Restaurant. Aside from having quite a bit more material to memorize, there was basically no difference.
He had much more free time here than before. After all, banquets weren't held every day, and most of the others were busy with their own side jobs. An oddball like Ma Zhaodi, who had nothing to do, was extremely rare.
He held a thick handbook in his hands. It contained everything else he had to memorize as well, including the banquet menus, alcoholic drinks, ingredients, service etiquette, and banquet procedures. Yet his attention wasn't on the handbook at all. It had instead drifted toward the people chatting off to the side.
"Johnny, did you hear? I heard someone's already preparing to take Roman's bounty."
"Is that strange? That's a bounty put up by the Godfather. With enough money on the table, there'll always be brave men willing to take it. Besides, Roman wouldn't treat anyone willing to risk their life for him as a disposable pawn."
"It's some obscure little gang—the Irish Mob. Have you heard of them?"
"There are countless obscure little gangs. Whoever wants to do it, it doesn't matter. Only the person who pulls it off gets paid."
"What I mean is, have you ever thought that instead of letting some obscure little gang take the money, why not—"
"I advise you not to do that. There's a reason the boss won't let family members take action themselves. Have you heard of Batman? I don't want to deal with that prosecutor only to have him break my arms and legs and dump me outside the police station."
"Batman's on the bounty too, and it's a full million—"
"Go screw yourself! If you want to get yourself killed, don't drag me into it!"
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