Soka sat in a luxurious room, smoking his favorite cigar. Several subordinates stood guard at his side, while two girls massaged his legs. Yet none of it did much to ease his mood.
Amid the curling scent of tobacco, he was growing increasingly restless.
Fucking hell! That was exactly how terrible Soka felt.
Because what had happened tonight had gone somewhat beyond his control, and he had no idea how to wrap things up.
Not to mention the businesses involved on Bar Street, the people from the various forces behind them would be enough to give him a headache if they joined forces.
Everything that had happened at the bar today had given him a massive headache. Not only had he lost a great many men, but firearms had also appeared, and white people had gotten involved.
With such a huge incident, forget about the dead—just dealing with the fallout would be difficult even if he threw money at it. Especially for someone like him. He might look glorious and powerful on ordinary days, but in truth, he was dancing on a tightrope.
Normally, he called the shots and was surrounded by followers, carrying himself with all the aura of a Big Boss. But everything he had now could be stripped away in an instant with a single word from the Big Boss above him, sending him crashing from the clouds into the dirt.
Right now, the first thing he had to do was make the conflict on Bar Street melt away completely and clear out all the loose ends. Everything else could wait. And Bar Street needed to reopen for business as soon as possible.
Whatever impact had been caused on Bar Street had to be erased. Compensation had to be paid where necessary, and connections had to be