Impossible to Work

"Hey! Hey!"

Nothing works better than a gun. The two guys who were just cursing a moment ago instantly turned cowardly, raising their hands high and spreading their fingers toward Tony to signal they had no intention of attacking, shouting, "Cool it, cool it!"

Only the guy who started the trouble kept his neck stiff and defiant. He kept taking deep breaths, glaring at Tony in a standoff while frequently glancing at the gun.

"Do it if you've got the guts, nger."

Tony tilted his head back and bared his teeth at the guy, deliberately thrusting his fat belly forward. The gun sat loosely on his waist, actually closer to the other man's hand.

Everyone on the court noticed the tension. The sound of dribbling stopped, and silence descended suddenly. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven—for those seven seconds, time seemed to freeze.

"Forget it, let's just forget it."

The two who had backed down sensed the danger and hurriedly grabbed their companion's shoulders, pulling him back. "Let's go, let's just go." He resisted for a moment longer, but finally, his energy deflated, and he was dragged away half-willingly.

"Pussy, get lost! Don't let me see you around here again!"

Little Lowry emerged from behind Tony to deliver the parting shot, taking the opportunity to shove the guy hard on the head.

It made the veins on the guy's forehead throb, his eyes bloodshot, looking like a wild beast ready to devour someone alive. His companions pulled and tugged until they finally managed to get him out of everyone's sight.

"Thank goodness nothing happened..."

Song Ya let out a long sigh. That scene just now had been incredibly tense. He couldn't imagine what would have happened if that guy had actually dared to snatch the gun from Tony's waist. "America is truly too intense," he muttered to himself.

Tony coolly lowered his shirt to hide the gun and shouted to the people on the court who were still watching the spectacle, "It's fine now! OK?"

The sound of dribbling resumed. Little Lowry smiled at AK and asked, "Recovered your energy? If you're ready, let's continue."

After receiving an affirmative reply from AK, he shouted to the others, "Same teams?"

"Same teams, Ya Li..." Tony signaled to Song Ya.

"We're still playing? What if they come back for revenge?" Song Ya was stunned. How could they be so thick-skinned as to keep playing?

"Shut your bird mouth." Tony walked over, gritting his teeth and whispering a curse.

"Fine." Song Ya had no choice but to walk to the top of the arc, set his stance, and face off against Little Lowry again.

There were far fewer people on the court than before. Song Ya noticed several were packing their things to leave. They must have smelled the danger, right? He felt a bit jumpy now; the sudden appearance of shadows at the corner of the court or the faint sound of sirens in the distance made his nerves tighten.

"Hmm? That's not right..."

He suddenly realized Little Lowry was off, too. The drives were gone, the fancy tricks were gone, and even his dribbling was stumbling.

No, it wasn't just him—everyone was off.

Although they all pretended not to care, their conversations had dwindled, and their movements had become stiffer. Silencer, who was the worst at hiding his emotions, was just like him, his eyes involuntarily darting toward the chain-link fence.

After a moment of reflection, Song Ya grinned. While the "face" that his black brothers cared about was different from that of the Chinese, the subtleties were actually quite endearing when you looked closely.

They managed to hold out on the court for another forty or fifty minutes before a vintage-sounding electronic ringtone suddenly blared from under the basketball hoop.

"Sorry."

AK walked over, fished a pager out of a pile of clothes, read the message, and shouted to Little Lowry, "The boss seems to have an emergency!"

"Alright." Little Lowry tossed the ball to Song Ya and said to Tony, "Looks like that's all for today. We'll continue next time."

"Sounds good." Tony hugged him and punched him in the chest. "You know how to find me. Just call."

"Yeah, thanks for today." Little Lowry gave Silencer and Song Ya a big hug as well.

"Your business is our business," Tony said.

Little Lowry solemnly tapped his own heart.

Everyone went their separate ways.

Only when Silencer started the car and Tony tucked the pistol under the seat did the heavy stone in Song Ya's heart finally settle.

"What's wrong with you!? The situation already happened, and you just stood there watching!"

Tony looked back and scolded, "If something like that happens again, you need to rush up immediately and act in unison with us, understand? Otherwise, you'll be ostracized."

Ostracized, so be it. Song Ya had never intended to run with their crowd after transmigrating. "Why?" he countered. "Why pull a gun over such a small thing? Why take such a huge risk? Is it worth it?"

Neither Tony nor Silencer answered. After a long while, Silencer spat out a long sentence: "No scholarship, no college."

"We don't join gangs, we don't touch drugs, we've focused on playing ball for so many years—for what?" Tony said. "Isn't it to get picked by a college, get a scholarship, and get out of this godforsaken place? You think we want to be out here brawling on the street like that?"

"And in the end? No college team wants us, not even a community college."

"If we don't go to college, what can we do after graduation? Work the night shift at K-Town? Or scrub toilets in the commercial district?"

"No, Little Lowry is our best chance. We have to seize this!"

"Once his album is officially released, he's going to need a lot of help. He'll take us with him; he promised." A glimmer of longing appeared in Tony's eyes. "I've known him since we were kids. Once he makes it big, he'll take care of us, no problem..."

Song Ya was bewildered. "You said all that, but did Little Lowry promise you a specific position?"

"Why the hell do I have such a stupid brother!"

Tony cursed, "Did you really pass your A+ exams? Little Lowry and I are buddies! We face things together, we spend money together..."

"WTF! Are you stupid or am I!?"

Song Ya was shocked. On what grounds would someone else share their money with you?

Well, it turned out Song Ya really was being foolish; after Tony's explanation, he finally understood.

It turned out that the Black community truly did have this kind of "tradition." Since entertainment and sports stars were the fastest way for people in the ghetto to climb the social ladder, singers and athletes would strike it rich overnight. They had a responsibility to pull their struggling relatives and good brothers up with them. The idea of "spending money together" was a bit of an exaggeration, but if Little Lowry really did become an overnight success and was willing to bring Tony and Silencer along, their lives would indeed undergo a qualitative change.

Of course, they wouldn't just sit around doing nothing. They could moonlight as bodyguards, help order takeout, play video games together, act as wingmen, and, like today, act tough to hold down the fort. Huh? When you put it that way, there really was quite a lot of work to do.

"Let me get this straight, let me get this straight."

Song Ya's Chinese way of thinking slowly began to shift. "In other words, if Little Lowry becomes famous, the jobs he can provide for you two are... lackeys?"

"Brothers, buddy," Tony corrected him.

To put it nicely, they're brothers; to put it bluntly, aren't they just henchmen, lackeys, and hangers-on? Song Ya grumbled to himself. "Right."

He thought of several other possibilities. "What if Little Lowry doesn't make it big? What if he thinks your display of loyalty today was too impulsive and is actually afraid to keep you by his side? He has to listen to his music boss, right? What if his boss doesn't agree to him keeping you guys around?"

"Uh..."

Tony and Silencer exchanged a glance. "If that really happens..." Tony muttered, "then our only path left is to join a gang." Both of their expressions dimmed.

So, at the end of the day, working a real job is just out of the question, right? Song Ya finally figured it out, thinking to himself.