Usurious Profits

'Creak.'

The door slowly opened.

"Doctor Zhang, given the recent chaos in the Lower-Level District, to ensure your safety, the protection fee has been raised from 1900 to 2200."

Mid-sentence, the tattooed man collecting the fee paused slightly.

It wasn't Doctor Zhang opening the door, but a clean-cut, frail-looking young man.

"Brother Zhou," the young man said with a smile.

Zhou Quan, standing beside the tattooed man, clearly froze for a moment.

"Brother Fusheng?"

"This is my father's clinic. I didn't expect to run into you here, Brother Zhou. Please, come in."

Zhang Fusheng stepped aside, gesturing them in.

Zhou Quan and the tattooed man exchanged glances.

The three entered the cramped clinic. Zhou Quan surveyed the small space.

An old, rusty examination bed, a similarly rusty metal cart beside it filled with tweezers, scalpels, and other instruments.

In a moldy corner stood an old, humming refrigerator.

No monitors, no surgical lights. Only the smell of mold and dampness, mixed with the scent of old blood and disinfectant.

Cramped, oppressive, dim.

Zhou Quan's gaze fell on the delicate, weak-looking young man. The smile he usually wore vanished.

"I've heard of Doctor Zhang. Neutral, fair, keeps secrets – a very competent and excellent underground doctor. I just didn't expect he was also Brother Fusheng's father."

Zhang Fusheng didn't reply. He silently counted out two thousand two hundred yuan and handed it to the tattooed man.

The latter took it.

Zhou Quan stared at Zhang Fusheng and smiled.

"Brother Fusheng, you heard my conversation with A Bao just now, didn't you?"

He didn't intend to leave. Instead, he pulled over a wooden chair and sat down heavily.

"I did," Zhang Fusheng nodded slightly.

Zhou Quan spoke slowly.

"Then there's nothing more to say. A Bao, return the protection fee to Brother Fusheng. Then, withdraw 300,000 and ten jin of product from the hall. We'll hand it all over to Brother Fusheng later."

Zhang Fusheng's eyebrows shot up. Was he being asked to transport drugs?

He didn't care where it was going, nor why he was chosen – because he wouldn't do it.

In his past life, Zhang Fusheng had detested drugs. In this life, influenced by his father, he wouldn't touch that stuff, not even a trace.

Zhou Quan played with a silver coin in his hand and said calmly.

"Residents of the Lower-Level District and Mid-Level District are normally not allowed to enter the Upper-Level District. But Brother Fusheng can, you must have gotten into Jiang University?"

He paused, then continued.

"In our Lower-Level District, the market price for one gram of flour is 500. Transported to the Mid-Level District, it can sell for 600. Transported to District Three..."

"It can sell for 5,000."

"Of course, if Brother Fusheng has the ability to get it to District Two, one gram of flour will sell for at least 8,000. The difference of 3,000 will be all yours."

Zhang Fusheng frowned. "Why not find someone from the Upper-Level District?"

Zhou Quan looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Our Chaimen needs to make money, we're not looking to die. The Upper-Level District is too complicated. Any random passerby might be the nephew of the Public Security Bureau chief, or the disciple of some high-ranking Martial Artist."

Zhang Fusheng knitted his brows. "In the Mid-Level District, aren't there many people who can enter the Upper-Level District?"

"Quite a few."

Zhou Quan lit a cigarette and patiently explained.

"But our Chaimen doesn't operate in the Mid-Level District. People like you, or Wang Xiangnan, from the Lower-Level District, are more convenient for doing business."

Zhang Fusheng lowered his eyelids. "Brother Zhou, are you going to the Martial Arts Academy to find suitable candidates?"

"No, it's just a convenient thing. Every mule that can freely enter and exit the Upper-Level District is rare."

Zhou Quan puffed on his cigarette.

"Then it's settled. A Bao will teach you how to do it tomorrow. Ten jin of product per trip, with a 300,000 commission. Sell it at the marked price of 5,000 per gram. Anything you sell it for above that is yours to keep."

Zhang Fusheng asked patiently.

"I don't mess with that stuff. Brother Zhou, why don't you find someone else?"

Zhou Quan didn't answer, just said gently:

"Let me introduce myself first, Zhou Quan, Hall Master of Chaimen's Fire Department. He's my father."

"A few days ago, our Fire Department lost forty jin of goods. The person who stole it was seriously injured, but we didn't catch them in the end. Someone treated their injuries."

He stood up, exhaled smoke into Zhang Fusheng's face, extinguished the cigarette butt, and said in a low voice:

"Do you think Uncle Zhang is the one who treated her injuries?"

Zhang Fusheng's lips twitched.

Yeah.

It really was.

It's just that Zhou Quan clearly doesn't know, and is threatening me.

But as long as he's willing, that person could be Dad.

"Please send my regards to Uncle Zhang."

Zhou Quan emphasized the words "Uncle Zhang" heavily, then waved his hand, and he and the tattooed man named A Bao got up and left.

Zhang Fusheng stood in place.

For a long time.

He returned to the basement and silently transformed into Zhong Shan's appearance, but after hesitating for a moment, he ultimately changed back.

Wasting this face to kill Zhou Quan wasn't worth it, and it might even implicate that girl.

If Chaimen killed Zhong Yue, the transaction would also fail directly.

The most crucial thing was that Zhang Fusheng wasn't a good person, nor was he a complete scoundrel. He really couldn't bear to watch that young girl die for nothing.

After a long silence, he went out, left the dark alley, and hailed a taxi.

"What's the saying? 'You search high and low for something, and it appears when you least expect it.'"

The two of them walked through the dark alley, collecting protection money from house to house.

Zhou Quan said with a smile:

"Another lead."

A Bao nodded affirmatively:

"Ten times the profit margin. That kid, like the other two mules, makes a run every day. After deducting costs and bribes, we can still net over ten million."

He paused, sounding a little regretful:

"It's a shame these kinds of mules are so hard to find. In the Lower-Level District, the number of people who can get into Jiang University each year can be counted on one hand, and they can only be used for two months."

The difficulty for people from the Lower-Level District to enter the Upper-Level District was outrageously high. The relatively easiest way was to 'get into Jiang University.'

Zhou Quan put the last installment of protection money into the pushcart. The dark alley spanned the entire Lower-Level District, with tens of thousands of large and small businesses. One thousand of them were under the jurisdiction of the Fire Department.

A month's worth of protection money was two million.

Not much, but it carried significant symbolic meaning. Whoever collected the money was the one in charge of these thousand shops. Before, it was his older brother.

However, a few days ago, his dear older brother was killed by that woman who stole the goods with a single slap. This job had now fallen to him.

Zhou Quan sighed softly:

"Yeah, these top-tier mules can only be used for two months. Once Jiang University starts, they have to be dealt with directly, lest their wings grow strong and they turn on their masters."

Who knew who these mules would associate with at Jiang University? Which influential families would they get to know?

Therefore, only these two-plus months of summer vacation each year could bring in such a massive profit.

If only it could be maintained long-term.

Zhou Quan couldn't help but swallow. After thinking for a moment, he instructed:

"This Zhang Fusheng's situation is quite special. His talent is very strong. Although it's unlikely the one at Hong Ji will take disciples anymore, it's better to be safe than sorry. When you deliver goods to him tomorrow, tell him not to go to the Martial Arts Academy."

"Yes, Young Master." A Bao nodded crisply.

As they spoke, they had already walked back to the Eighth District along the dark alley. This short stretch was filled with prostitutes, but none of them were foolish enough to solicit customers.

"Money..." Zhou Quan licked his lips.

"Little brother, one hundred and thirty-two." The driver glanced at his watch. "Oh, it's past midnight. I need to get out of here quickly, or there'll be a lot of trouble later."

Taxi drivers like them, even if temporarily allowed into the Upper-Level District because they were carrying passengers, were not permitted to linger, especially at night.

Moreover, there was the 'Sky Eye' monitoring them in real-time, and they weren't even allowed to get out of the car.

Zhang Fusheng handed over the money and got out of the car. In front of him was the Hong Ji Martial Arts Hall.

He had considered whether or not to just kill Zhou Quan.

But that's not safe.

So.

Zhang Fusheng strode into the Martial Arts Academy, heading straight for the fourth floor, which only the School Master's disciples could access.

"First, I'll find a powerful backer."

"Then, I'll get rid of Zhou Quan."