Black Tiger Gang

"Last month, the dock fees were collected in full, up twenty percent. But at the gambling dens, the take was fifteen silver dollars lower than the month before. Word is, a new cardsharp showed up at Happy Forest and made off with quite a haul before our people could keep an eye on him."

Mr. Xu's voice was steady and his account well-organized. "The protection money from Fireworks Alley was unchanged, but two back-alley brothels secretly hooked up with outside pimps and shorted us on our cut. Lord Scar's men have already gone to have a word with them. They should make up the difference this month."

Lei Tiger said nothing, but his fingers stopped tapping on the table for a moment.

Mr. Xu continued, "The biggest shortfall came from freight."

"The shipment of foreign cloth we were escorting for Fuchang Firm disappeared near Green Dragon Shoal. The ship and its cargo vanished together, costing us nearly five hundred silver dollars."

"Also, Master Li at the county yamen has raised the quarterly offering. He let slip that the new county magistrate has a sharp nose, so we'll need to grease the right palms."

At the mention of five hundred silver dollars and the increased offering, Scarface's brow furrowed. He couldn't help spitting out, "Damn it, there's definitely a mole behind this Fuchang Firm shipment! Let me get my hands on them!"

Lei Tiger lifted his eyelids and glanced at Scarface. His gaze was calm, but Scarface immediately fell silent and lowered his head.

Scarface was too low-level to have access to much information. Lei Tiger was different.

Things had been getting ugly at Green Dragon Shoal lately. They said even people from the Bureau of Strange Suppression had fallen there.

"We'll deal with Green Dragon Shoal later. Have the brothers steer clear of it for now. As for Master Li, pay whatever increase he asks. We can't let the yamen come looking for trouble."

Lei Tiger spoke with a booming voice and an air of natural authority. "Mr. Xu, by your figures, how much lower will our net income be this month than last?"

Mr. Xu flicked his fingers over the abacus, then said thoughtfully, "After deducting expenses, relief payments, and the new bribes, and factoring in the slow business at several of our establishments... probably six to eight hundred silver dollars less. If freight hits another snag next month, or the gambling dens or docks run into trouble, I'm afraid..."

He didn't finish, but his meaning was clear: the gang's cash flow was starting to tighten.

The Black Tiger Gang looked imposing, but it had dozens of hired thugs to feed, informants to pay, and palms to grease. Its daily expenses were considerable.

Once its income became unstable, unrest could easily take root within its ranks.

Lei Tiger fell silent for a moment, his gaze resting on a page of the ledger. It listed several small side earnings, including Deliverance Studio on Funeral Street, which owed five silver dollars in sanitation fees and interest.

"How are things on Funeral Street lately?" Lei Tiger asked suddenly, his tone unreadable.

Scarface perked up and promptly replied, "You can rest easy, Boss. That street's steady. It's full of honest folk who deal with the dead. They can't cause any trouble. It's just..."

He hesitated. "It's that kid at Deliverance Studio, Chen Dachuan's son. He's got a hard head. He's been dragging this out for three months. I went to collect today, and he still had that same dead look on his face. He couldn't pay, and he wouldn't hand over the item either."

"The item?" Lei Tiger looked at him.

"The secret art of paper crafting Chen Dachuan knew," Scarface explained. "You mentioned it to me last time. That kid's stubbornly holding on to it. He won't take a kind offer, so he'll have to learn the hard way! I gave him three days. If he still doesn't know what's good for him, I'll bring men to tear down his shop and take that kid..."

"Secret art..." Lei Tiger rolled the words around in his mouth. A strange glint passed through his eyes as he cut Scarface off. "That thing is an old curiosity some big shot specifically asked for. They say there's something interesting about it. It's no ordinary paper-crafting technique."

"I sent you to handle this because you're usually careful, not so you could tear down shops and beat people at the drop of a hat, stirring up the whole county."

Scarface froze, confused. "Boss, that kid won't listen to reason. If we don't get rough..."

"Use your head!" Lei Tiger's voice sank. "Funeral Street may not be much to look at, but it's still a whole street. If we handle this too crudely, what will the other shops think? And what if the yamen starts talking?"

Mr. Xu interjected at just the right moment, his tone smooth. "The Boss means we need to make that kid hand it over willingly—or leave him no choice but to do so. Taking it by force is the worst option. It could leave us open to gossip."

"I heard Chen Mo is in very poor health, as if he might not live much longer. Perhaps we can use that... Find a doctor to talk some sense into him, for instance. Or make it so that here in Linhe County, he can't borrow a single grain of rice or buy a packet of medicine on credit from anyone but us."

He'd put it delicately, but the implication was clear: exploit Chen Mo's illness and isolation, slowly wear him down, and force him to comply.

That would get them what they wanted without making them look too bad.

Lei Tiger gave a slight nod. He didn't comment on Mr. Xu's suggestion, but he clearly favored this approach—soft silk wrapped around a hidden needle.

"Scarface, did you understand what Mr. Xu said?"

"Go again in three days. If he can scrape together the money, have him pay it. Just give him a warning."

"If he can't... then let him know what Mr. Xu meant. Let him choose for himself: hand over the item without a fuss and trade it for a way out, or drag that sickly body of his through Linhe County, where he won't be able to take a single step."

He paused, then added, "Remember, we need to get the item, but leave no fingerprints."

"Yes, Boss!" Scarface felt a little stifled, but he didn't dare disobey and quickly agreed.

He understood. The Boss and Mr. Xu wanted to cut him with a blunt knife—a more sophisticated approach than simply attacking him, and a lot more troublesome.

But a big shot had specifically asked for the item... That gave him a vague new respect for—and wariness of—that shabby paper-crafting manual.

Lei Tiger waved a hand, signaling that they could leave.

The two bowed and withdrew from the main hall.

Silence settled over the hall again. Lei Tiger was alone, candlelight casting half his face in shifting shadows.

He leaned back in his grand chair and closed his eyes to rest, his fingers still tapping unconsciously on the table.

He didn't know what was so special about the secret art. He only knew that some big shot was interested in it and had asked him to keep an eye out.

To Lei Tiger, it was a chance to curry favor with someone higher up.

As for whether Chen Mo lived or died, he didn't much care. As long as the job was done cleanly and the Black Tiger Gang stayed stable, that was all that mattered.

The wisdom of streetwise men lay in knowing how to weigh advantages and disadvantages, calculate gains and losses, and exploit rules and human weaknesses—not in blindly forcing their way through everything.

Lei Tiger had made it this far because he understood that well.

Roughly the time it takes an incense stick to burn later, deep in the compound...

From the side courtyard where Scarface and several other leaders lived came a sudden, piercing scream that shattered the stillness of the night!

A moment later came more panicked shouts, along with the clatter of tables and chairs toppling and porcelain smashing.

"Ghost! There's a ghost—!"

"Help! Lord Scar! Lord Scar, help!"

"Stop it! Aah—!"

The commotion quickly grew, mingling with the rasp of blades being drawn and screams of terror.