"Both of you, come with me," Obo interrupted our conversation.
We both swiveled our heads toward him in perfect synchronization, our attempts to hide our frustration failing miserably.
It was becoming apparent that this bald man had a deep and abiding love for the sound of his own voice, and our eye rolls might as well have been synchronized too.
"What's with the face?" He started berating us again. "Do you think you're some kind of hot-shot now just after defeating Ije?" he sneered in contempt.
"Let me tell you this.." He started talking .
'Here we go again' I sighed.
The longer I spent in this gang, the more I became convinced that it was a magnet for the weird and the dimwitted. I couldn't help but feel like my IQ was taking a nosedive just by virtue of being in this place.
I exchanged a quick, glance with Changmin, both of us sharing a silent understanding "OBO talks a lot"
"Now follow me!" Obo barked after finishing his essay, turning around and expecting us to fall in line.
As I begrudgingly trailed behind him, I couldn't help but mutter under my breath,
'Dumb us, you wasted our precious time with your talking.'
The only person I enjoy listening to is myself; anyone else is just an annoyance.
As we followed him, he led us into an office that was more like your typical gang hideout. I couldn't help but notice the presence of alcohol bottles and even a white powder on the table, leaving no doubt about the illegal activities that took place in this space.
'I wouldn't even be surprised if I found some guns hidden under this sofa,' I mused to myself, half-jokingly, considering the kind of place I was in.
Obo leaned back in his chair, adopting a dramatic pose with a giant, obviously fake diamond ring on his finger.
He stared at us, putting on the airs of a big boss, but it was widely known that he wasn't the one really in command. According to Dang Bak, the real boss of this organization was far more terrifying and powerful. There were even stories circulating that he had once killed three people in a bar with a pencil. A motherfucking pencil!
"You two are going to form your own crew," he declared with a tone that left no room for disagreement. It was clear that this was not a request but an order we were expected to follow.
'A crew? A crew for what? Don't tell me you're going to ask me to rob a bank, because I'll be out of here faster than a Lamborghini,'
"Zuzu, you will be the leader, and Changnim will be your second-in-command," Obo announced, setting the hierarchy for our newly formed crew.
"I'm the leader?" I said, sounding both amazed and flattered. It was like being handed the keys to a new sports car. I couldn't help but remember my middle school days when I was a double LL (Loser and Loner) no one wanted to partner with. Back then, I was the poster child for solo projects.
Now, here I was, being offered a leadership role by a group of criminals. It was a weird twist of fate, and while I knew I shouldn't be happy about it, I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. It was like being promoted to "Boss of the Misfits," and it made me grin despite the questionable circumstances.
"Stop grinning like an idiot and pay attention," Obo yelled, pulling me back to reality.
"We've been getting reports that our rival gang is messing with the stores under our protection. I want you two, along with three more people, to check out this area first and give anyone messing with our turf a good beating. Remember, no weapons—just fists."
"What's the point of using our fists when we could just shoot them?"I asked, attempting to lure him into a conversation I was interested in.
On the topic of beating up other gangsters, it actually worked in my favor. I didn't earn much XP from taunting men, but a good old-fashioned brawl could boost my experience points significantly. So, I saw this as a chance to level up in more ways than one.
"Kid, we have our own set of rules," Obo explained. "As long as we don't use weapons, we can minimize the risk of anyone getting killed. If you shoot someone from the other group, they'll retaliate in kind, and it can escalate into a bloodbath."
"But do we even have guns? I want to know." I asked using "Suggestion" ,Knowing that his level is not significantly higher than mine, and considering that my request wasn't overly unreasonable, I decided to give it a shot.
[Suggestion: Success]
"That's too personal , but you have a lot of potential, so I'll make an exception. Yes, we do have guns," he confirmed.
"How many and what types? I'm quite the gun enthusiast so maybe you can share it with me," I chuckled, disguising my question as a joke.
[Suggestion: Success]
"We have handguns all the way up to semi-automatic rifles," he answered, very willing to share this information on the gang's arsenal.
"Where do you keep them?"
"Eh?" I was surprised because the question didn't come from my mouth but from someone else.
"Hey, Changnim, stop asking so many questions," Obo snapped, his tone dripping with contempt.
'This guy is an idiot. Does he think he also has a system like me ?' I couldn't help but chuckle to myself as I watched him getting scolded.
—
Inside 4th floor bathroom.
I came here immediately after our discussion. I was excited to assess my progress and enhance my fighting capabilities before I got involved in that turf war.
"Status"
===========
Name : Ji-Hoon Zyden
Age : 18 years old
Overall Stats : 39.7
Level (10) [770/5000] I-->[Start]<--I
<Attributes>
Strength: 7
Agility: 11
Stamina: 4
Endurance: 4.5
Intelligence: 3.2
Charisma: 10
<Skills>
Mind Eye [Level 3]
Suggestion [Level 10]
Skill Store I
--
*Quick Learning [Level 4]
*Intuitive Complex Problem Solving : [Level 1 ]
*Intense Concentration : [Level 4 ]
*Enhanced Cognitive Intuition : [Level 1 ]
--
*Faker [Level 1]
*Quick Phase [Level 2]
--
Attribute Points: 9
Skill points: 5
Domination Points : 1
===========
I glanced at my stats, content with the attribute and stat points I had available. But then I spotted something strange—a "Start Button" next to my Level.
"What's this?" I muttered under my breath, perplexed by the unexpected appearance of this mysterious option.
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