Chapter 116Yoren was right—Happy City was about to change. But what he didn't expect... was that he’d be the first unlucky soul swept away by the storm he started.

  When Yoren id out his pn, A Guang, who was driving, nearly smmed his car into a telegraph pole.

  "Brother Yoren, this, this, this—you—"

  "Yes," Yoren replied calmly, as if he were talking about the weather. "That's exactly what I'm doing."

  He wasn’t hiding anything from A Guang. Not anymore. A Guang was one of his own now—solid, loyal. And more importantly, he had never been close to Richie. If you wanted someone to go the distance for you, the least you could do was give them your trust first.

  Besides, this was only the first step. More moves were coming, bigger ones. Yoren needed people he could rely on, and Aguang had just passed the first test.

  After confirming again and again, A Guang finally accepted it—mouth agape and all. So it had all been Yoren’s doing.

  "Brother Yoren... was it really Brother ACE who killed Simon?"

  "That's right."

  "Damn. So Brother ACE is really that good?"

  "Of course. If my brother ACE couldn't handle someone like Simon, I might as well shut down Bck Feather completely."

  A Guang had eaten at the Bck Feather BBQ before, so he knew ACE. At the time, he thought ACE wasn’t fshy, but clearly strong. Still, he hadn’t expected this kind of strength—the kind that could take down the boss of the East District with no chance of escape.

  Yoren leaned back in his seat, the corners of his mouth lifting in a rare smirk.

  "Real warriors aren’t like gangsters. Gangsters fight to survive, to profit. But warriors—they kill with purpose. That’s the difference. And even though Brother ACE always seems id-back, there’s no question about it. He’s the real deal."

  "Brother ACE is awesome," A Guang said with awe.

  That’s right—this was Yoren’s pn to enter the East District. Simple, even elegant. If he had to name it, he’d call it Decapitation Pn 1.0.

  To take the East District, Simon had to go. But just asking ACE to off him would raise too many red fgs. Richie wasn’t stupid—he’d know something was off. The East District had been stable for years under the Fredo Chamber of Commerce. Even the boldest gangs wouldn’t stir up trouble here.

  If only Simon died, Richie would just promote someone else or reinforce the area. Yoren wouldn’t get his chance.

  So, he had to raise the stakes. Two rge bars bombed—the same tactic as the chemical pnt incident. Chaos, noise, confusion. And with Simon’s sudden death, things escated fast. Especially when all his top men disappeared, leaving no one to step up.

  Now Richie was off-bance.

  Desperation makes people grab at anything—even a weak thread. Richie had lots of muscle, sure. But muscle wasn’t leadership. Simon’s death left a vacuum. And now, Yoren—with his brains, guts, and timing—was the only clear option.

  He pulled out his phone and dialed.

  "Brother ACE."

  "Yoren."

  "Where are you?"

  "I’ve pulled out. Everyone you assigned me has been handled."

  "What about Ifrit? Did she lose control again?"

  "No. She behaved. I got her out safely."

  A voice shouted from the other end—Ifrit’s, loud and annoyed.

  "Why so quick to leave? Let me burn the rest! Brother ACE, c’mon!"

  "No. Mission complete. Time to go. Be good," ACE replied firmly.

  "Tch."

  Yoren chuckled and got serious again.

  "No exposure?"

  "None. All done clean."

  "Good. After you drop Ifrit off, meet me in the East District. I need boots on the ground."

  "Understood."

  He hung up and sighed.

  Truthfully, Yoren hadn’t done much—just talked a big game while eating melon slices at a bar. But he’d been tenser than anyone. If Simon had smelled something off, if Ifrit had slipped up, if ACE had failed—or if Richie didn’t bite—everything would’ve colpsed.

  But they pulled it off.

  Bck Feather’s first real victory.

  The East District was massive. When the chaos hit, Aijie locked down his turf, paranoid and terrified. So when news came that Richie had sent Yoren to take over, he actually sighed in relief.

  When Yoren arrived at the scene, it wasn’t the madhouse he expected.

  The crowd had been cleared out by gang members. Curious or not, no one wanted to risk getting their teeth kicked in.

  Fire trucks and medics were still around. Dozens of well-armed military police patrolled the area.

  Yoren found the head of the security team on-site.

  Anyone with half a brain could tell this was gang business. And in Happy City, the government, gangs, and nobles had an unspoken deal—don’t make a mess that forces Victoria’s royal family to care.

  He revealed his identity and said calmly, "Captain, the Fredo Chamber of Commerce will handle this. Compensation and comfort for the injured, all on us. Please clean up the scene. No need to investigate."

  The security officer, a Philin tribe man, frowned.

  "Look, brother, this kind of thing puts us in a bind. You want to handle gang fights outside the city, fine. But downtown? That's a headache."

  "Apologies, sincerely. It won’t happen again. What’s your name, sir?"

  "Buck. Team A leader of the Security Bureau’s Action Group."

  Yoren leaned in and whispered.

  "Captain Buck, I run the casino in the North District. Come by when you're free. I'll make sure you're well taken care of."

  He gave Buck a knowing gnce.

  The message was clear: grease the wheels.

  Buck smirked. "Alright. I’ll come by in three days. I just mention my name, yeah?"

  "Absolutely. I’ll tell the front desk."

  "Good. We’ll wrap things up here, then it’s all yours. Just make sure nothing like this happens again."

  "You have my word."

  Soon, A Guang's crew and the casino's security arrived. ACE returned not long after.

  Without wasting time, Yoren began the overnight takeover.

  Simon had controlled nearly a hundred entertainment businesses. Each one had a proper manager—not gangsters, but real operators. Yoren wasn’t touching them. Let them keep running things and making money.

  His focus was on the muscle—Simon’s real gang.

  With Benson’s former turf absorbed, there were now over 300 fighters. Some loyal to Simon, others to Benson. But most were just along for the ride. The true loyalists? Gone. Killed by ACE.

  Now? These 300 were just bystanders, waiting to see who'd take charge.

  A sleek bck car rolled up. Reddy stepped out, sent personally by Richie.

  Most of the gang didn’t know Yoren, but everyone knew Reddy.

  Yoren briefed him quickly.

  "Everything’s under control. The security team’s gone. The injured are at the hospital."

  "Well done."

  "I’ll stay in the East District tonight. Even if I don’t sleep, I want to know who dares make a move."

  "That’s the kind of boss we need here."

  Then, Reddy gathered everyone in front of the charred bar.

  When the gang was assembled, Reddy addressed them with a booming voice.

  "Listen up! This is Yoren. Don’t let his looks fool you—Simon and Benson? Both gone because of him. Doesn’t matter who you followed before. From now on, he’s your boss. That’s Richie's order. Understood?!"

  "Understood!"

  "Strength rules. That’s how we survive. Following a boss like him is a damn privilege. Starting now, support him fully—and restore the East District’s glory!"

  "Brother Yoren! Brother Yoren! Brother Yoren!"

  More than 300 gang members chanted, their voices shaking the street.

  Yoren stood on the bar’s front steps, raising his hand with a ugh.

  "Hahahaha! Don’t be afraid, brothers! You want to know why? Because I’m here!"

  He looked out over the sea of men—and ughed wildly into the night.

  On this day, Yoren finally followed through with his pn and became the sole boss of the East District.

  Though technically alone at the top, he was, without question, the strongest in terms of power, territory, manpower—everything. No one in the East District could match him.

  That night, after gathering all the boys, Yoren reorganized the entire operation. Gangs, after all, aren’t so different from companies. Besides the boss, you need managers, supervisors, team leads, and your ground-level staff.

  Yoren might not have the title of chairman, but he was now undoubtedly the CEO of the East District. The iron was hot—and he struck. Momentum was on his side, and he was determined to consolidate his power without leaving any loose ends.

  There were thirteen men under Aguang who’d been collecting protection money. These weren’t official members of the Fredo Chamber of Commerce but long-time street brothers who had followed Aguang through thick and thin. Yoren recognized a few of their faces from that old barbecue joint.

  According to Aguang, these men were like family. They’d seen both glory and gutter together. In terms of loyalty alone, they were leagues above the rest. Naturally, they were the first to receive Yoren’s trust and reuse.

  After that came the casino crowd.

  By Yoren’s request, more than thirty men showed up. Every one of them had been personally humbled by him in that infamous parking lot. Some still wore band-aids on their faces.

  But the beatdown had erased all resentment. In its pce: reverence. They had felt his overwhelming power first-hand. While Yoren couldn’t yet say they were fully loyal, most of them had already started calling him their boss.

  According to Reddy’s report, there were 144 entertainment businesses in the East District. These were previously divided among Benson (42), Simon (68), and Ajie (34). With Benson and Simon out of the picture, Yoren was now responsible for 110 of them.

  And so, he moved quickly.

  Aguang’s brothers were split into ten groups, each led by one of them. Each team was assigned a mix of newer brothers—around 30 to 40 per group.

  Eight groups were assigned to oversee daily operations of more than 10 stores each. That included resolving disputes, kicking out drunks, stopping illegal trades, dealing with credit cheats, and pushing back on rival gangs.

  The other two groups became mobile teams—"bricks" as they were called—ready to go wherever needed. These were responsible for collecting franchise fees across Hapi City and dealing with factories or businesses that refused to py by the rules.

  Aguang’s brothers served as team leads, and several casino veterans were assigned as their trusted seconds. This mix of old and new ensured that cliques were broken up, repced with a unified force.

  Just like a new server in an online game—everyone had to grind hard to level up. And that fired up the lower ranks.

  By the time everything was settled, night had already deepened.

  Yoren’s pn might’ve looked rough on paper, but it was brutally efficient—just like him. Crude, perhaps. But effective.

  With Aguang’s promotion, the structure solidified. The same way Yoren rose from barbecue stand owner to casino kingpin and East District boss in days, Aguang transformed from a street-level collector to one of the top dogs.

  As for Brother ACE, Yoren had bigger pns. ACE wouldn’t stay long in the gang’s daily affairs. For now, though, Yoren needed his presence to stabilize things. The East District and casino? Just stepping stones.

  The real stage was far rger. As core members of Bck Feather, they had a much grander role to py.

  After only four hours of sleep, Yoren was up again.

  He couldn’t afford any mishaps. This entire takeover was his own creation, and he needed it to go smoothly. He ordered symbolic patrols through the night, just to maintain the illusion of tight control.

  Morning came.

  Yoren sat at the bar and called Aguang.

  "Bring the car around. We’re heading to Golden Shore."

  "On it."

  The hard part was done. Now came the sweet part. Yoren needed some direct answers from Richie—face to face.

  Aguang pulled the jeep up to Richie’s luxurious vil in Jin’an.

  Yoren hopped out, humming a tune, walking like a student ready to collect his 100-point report card.

  In Richie’s study, after hearing the full report, Richie’s bloodshot eyes finally softened. The old man clearly hadn’t slept. Maybe he’d been dreading that te-night call—the one telling him another bar had been taken, or worse, that Yoren was dead.

  But none of that happened. Everything had gone according to Yoren’s pn.

  After Yoren’s passionate debrief, Richie gave a nod of approval.

  "Yoren, excellent work. Raymond told me st night—you’ve got leadership in your bones. That’s a rare thing."

  Yoren tried to py it humble, but his smile split wide across his face.

  "Boss, you’re fttering me. I’m just doing what I should."

  "Brave, capable, reliable. I knew I made the right choice."

  Richie’s praise poured in thick. But Yoren was after more than words.

  "Boss, Ajie and I will handle the East District moving forward."

  "Of course. That was always the pn."

  "And about the income..."

  "Ah, right. You’re not familiar with the East District rules yet. Don’t worry, nothing’s changed. Old system still stands. I’ll have Reddy expin."

  Later, Reddy id it all out.

  Like the casino, the East District’s businesses belonged to the Fredo Chamber. Headquarters took half the net income, and the rest was divided up.

  Yoren got 30% of casino profits. For the East District? He’d only get 20%—after that first 50% cut to HQ.

  At first, it seemed like a bad deal. The East District was way more trouble than the casino. But when Yoren saw the numbers, he realized it was far from a loss.

  Even at just 20%, the East District pulled in several times more than the casino. After paying his crew’s saries and bonuses, Yoren could still pocket over 10 million a year.

  Truth be told, Yoren had never seen that kind of money in his life—not in Terra coins, Longmen coins, or RMB.

  But it didn’t move him.

  Because his dream was never just about money.

  Not a few million here in Hapi City.

  Yoren wasn’t doing this to get rich.

  He wasn’t doing this just to be a district boss.

  He wanted to change fate.

  He wanted to help Veina.

  He wanted the stars.

  He wanted...everything.