CHAPTER 111: CHAPTER 56: BORN TO BE AN UNDERCOVER

"Great plan. I’ll inform the boss; he should be interested. If he agrees, I’ll call you. When the time comes, he’ll meet you, and we’ll conduct the first deal simultaneously."

"Pleasure working with you!" I extended my hand.

Juan came close and hugged me, "Pleasure working with you!"

Juan left with his men.

Jack cautiously observed me.

"You better stay in the hotel for the next few days," Stella warned Jack.

"I will! Can I leave now?"

"Go ahead!"

Jack happily left. The informant fee was quite a lot; he could indulge himself.

"Get in the car with me." Stella opened the door of the Chevy SUV behind her.

I took the front passenger seat.

"Kenny Clark? I’m Logan, a senior agent at the Miami Drug Enforcement Bureau!"

I picked up Stella’s communicator, "Hello."

"I have a question. Why are you helping her?"

"Because I’m her informant!"

"WHAT?" An informant? If he’s an informant, there are no issues with internal discipline.

The female cop looked at me strangely, recalling our first meeting, where she indeed wanted me as her informant to provide information on Mad Dog Claude.

But she had long forgotten about it.

"Stella, is he telling the truth?"

"Yes!"

"When? We’ve checked your internal file, and there’s only an informant involved in vehicle theft, not much of importance."

"It’s about Mad Dog Claude’s case."

So that’s it, the captain’s confusion disappeared, "Did you report it?"

"No, because his identity became sensitive."

"GOOD! Currently, only five of us know Kenny’s information. We will keep it confidential."

"Thank you!" Although I’ve helped the female cop, forming a connection with the Drug Enforcement Bureau was not what I wanted; it would bring me more trouble.

"Jack knows too."

"We’ll send him out of Miami, to Jacksonville!"

"Thank you!" I knew Logan was protecting me from Jack leaking my information.

Of course, the best solution would be to kill Jack.

"Stella, recently, don’t come to work, and avoid contact with colleagues; it’s best to change your place."

"Living with me is the best option. Juan will undoubtedly investigate my information and watch my activities with Stella during this period. Living together, she wouldn’t be exposed."

Stella stared at my face, are you serious?

"It’s a good idea!"

"Captain!" the female cop protested, "How can I live with him?"

"It’s the best way."

"No, Captain, if I live with him, his friends will find out. Some guys in the Johnny Clan know me. I’ll be exposed, and Kenny will fall into crisis."

Stella was right; Amir had seen her, and that brat can’t keep a secret.

The rumor about Sofia and me was Amir’s leak.

"Alright, your suggestion is correct. We will provide a dedicated safe house for you; keep a low profile during this period and avoid going out."

"Roger!"

"Kenny, thank you for your cooperation."

"You’re welcome!"

"Everyone withdraw!"

Stella hesitated, her hand resting on the steering wheel without any movement. She turned her head to look at me, her expression complex.

"What’s wrong?"

"Sorry," the female cop said awkwardly.

"Why are you saying that?"

"I pulled you into new trouble."

"It’s okay, you weren’t hurt!"

I opened the car door and headed to the elevator; it was time for dinner.

Watching my back, Stella gave one last glance and started the car.

"I am lonely lonely lonely, I am lonely lonely in my life!"

As I stepped into the elevator, Stella heard the song.

A lonely figure walked in the shadows, looking very desolate.

I am a gangster, walking on the edge of law, unable to have too many loved ones around me because I have many troubles and enemies.

I can’t hurt them. I chose loneliness!

Of course, a gangster can have a family, a wife, kids.

But the endings aren’t great; a father in prison brings harm to the family, causes harm to the children.

If there are enemies, the outcome is unimaginable.

Family could become targets for revenge or leverage against me.

I don’t want this kind of life, but I can’t choose.

In movies, a joker loses everything, naturally, doesn’t compromise, but I’m not.

In movies, Mafia families have power, can protect everything, but I’m not.

This isn’t a movie, it’s life!

Living alone, strolling alone, eating alone.

Like a lone wolf roaming in the jungle.

When injured, curling on the bed, crying silently, smoking, drinking.

And then sleep, forget everything.

Finished dinner and drove to Pink!

The atmosphere at the entrance was unusual, with many street guys smoking outside.

They were helping Baldy maintain order.

When I parked the car and arrived at the entrance, passing Baldy, he lowered his voice.

"Kenny, Johnny’s here; he’s not in a good mood, gathered many people. Be careful!"

I halted my steps, looking at the dimly lit club hall, understanding Johnny’s intention; he wanted to use the negotiation with the Triad as an excuse to deal with me.

"Thanks!" I stepped into the club.

The waiters inside were absent, the dancers were in the backstage, and the cashier at the front was nowhere to be seen.

There were a dozen guys with tattoos on their short sleeves in the booths of the hall.

As I entered the hall, they all turned to look at me.

This ragtag crew, with mismatched clothing, were members of the Johnny Clan.

Counting those maintaining order at the entrance, there were twenty-seven in total.

They are currently all the manpower the Johnny Clan has.

Some might say, this gang is small.

Indeed, it’s a small gang.

But evaluating a gang’s strength involves looking at its business, i.e., earning power, and how many gunmen it has.

Exactly, gunmen, we’re talking about those who can fight, not the peripheral members.

The Triad, Chinese Youth Gang, Big Circle Gang, South Korean crime groups, Cambodian gangs - these Asian crime syndicates are large, especially the Red Door.

They have vast numbers, comparable to a small country’s population, but truly fighting frontline personnel are limited.

Because peripheral members, like those managing businesses, akin to South Korean BBQ chefs and waiters, are not threatening.

Joining a gang, firstly, requires a job, and secondly, for safety.

They don’t seek a bloody, dark path, but merely for survival.

Much like the military structure, in a division of troops, only a third can truly fight, the rest are logistics.

The Johnny Clan is tiny, but over thirty fighting members, (Mars’ guys are still in the hospital) is no small number, matching a standard platoon.

The development of the Johnny Clan is unusual.

It’s made entirely of combat personnel, with the business segment handed over to Sofia.

Thus, it has become the strongest organization in the Upper East Side.

Every guy in the booths is someone who can pick up a gun and fight.

They exude a bloody aura.

Being stared at by them feels like stepping into a wolf pack, somewhat terrifying.

Amir nervously watched from the corner, aware of Johnny’s purpose, to trouble me.

Because I hadn’t finalized the agreement with the Triad.

Johnny, wearing a white cotton-linen shirt, arms on the bar counter, sat on a high stool against the bar surface, eyes fixated on me, with a peculiar smile on his face.

"Hi, Kenny!"

"Hi, BOSS!"

For the first time, the two faction leaders of the Johnny Clan faced off.

Both Johnny and I wore smiles, staring at each other.

Not like two old tigers meeting, full of hostility.

But rather like greeting old friends.

On the second-floor compartment hallway, Sofia leaned interestingly on the railing, watching the scene below, a smile on her lips, she seemed entertained by this performance.

Johnny took out a cigar from his jacket pocket and tossed it to me.

I caught it with ease.

Johnny licked his lips, touched his chin with his right hand, "Did Amy get home safe?"

"Yes, BOSS!"

"GOOD, I knew you could do it."

The other gang members looked at us strangely.

"So, was the Triad matter proceeding smoothly?"

All the underlings stared at my neck.

I bit the cigar, looked down, pop, opened the lighter, and took a deep puff.

"That depends on God’s mood."

WHAT? Motherfucker!