Chapter 361: A Mastermind
While Frank and Walter were busy arranging Heisenberg's affairs, Goodman came back with good news.
"I've found a suitable candidate," Goodman said.
"Not some junkie covered in tattoos with gold chains, I hope?" Frank asked skeptically.
"No, no," Goodman waved it off. "I've worked with him before. He fits your requirements perfectly."
"He's a legitimate businessman. Very powerful. He has a complete distribution network and smuggling channels."
"He doesn't just handle wholesale and retail—he can export as well. He'll move your—no, our—product like high-margin consumer goods. Mexico, Chile, Canada… he's got connections everywhere. A real heavyweight."
"A 'heavyweight,' huh?" Frank asked. "How impressive are we talking?"
"He's been in this line of work for twenty years," Goodman said. "Never slipped up once. The police don't even know he exists."
Frank's expression sharpened slightly.
This business was brutal. Turnover was constant.
Most players didn't last long—either wiped out by rivals, gunned down in the streets, or locked behind bars. The lucky ones ran off with money and disappeared overseas.
If an operation survived ten years, it was already considered long-lived.
Even many legitimate companies didn't last that long.
But this man?
Twenty years. No mistakes. No exposure.
That was extraordinary.
"Set it up," Frank said immediately. "I want to meet him."
---
Two days later, Goodman sent over a location.
Castle drove Frank to the meeting spot—a fast-food place called Los Pollos Hermanos. Locals simply called it "Chicken Brothers."
It was like how Gretchen and Elliot's company was formally known as Gray Matter Technologies, but everyone just called it "Gray Company."
"Two burgers, fries, and a cola," Frank ordered casually.
With their food in hand, he and Castle found a table and sat down, eating while they waited.
"This place is actually pretty good," Frank said. "I used to eat here a lot. Try it."
He was familiar with the place—had ordered from here many times before.
Fast food culture differed between East and West.
In the East, fast food focused more on flavor and variety, constantly introducing new items. It was almost seen as a mid-tier treat, especially popular among young people and kids.
But in the West, fast food—including big names like McDonald's and KFC—is often seen as food for the poor. The focus is on large portions and filling you up cheaply.
Back when Sammi lived in an RV with that Chuckie, they basically survived on fast food—just a few dollars for burgers, fries, or fried chicken could last them a whole day.
Because of that, most fast food in America doesn't actually taste very good.
But this "Chicken Brothers" chain was different. The burgers and fried chicken here had noticeably better flavor—you could tell the difference immediately.
During the time Frank lived in New Mexico, he had often bought food from this place.
As he ate his burger, he casually scanned the restaurant.
It was busy—people coming and going constantly. Business was booming. There was no obvious way to tell who the "mastermind" Goodman had mentioned might be.
Frank frowned slightly.
The kind of deal they were about to discuss wasn't something you handled in a crowded public space like this.
Normally, you'd meet in a quiet café or a private restaurant.
So why here?
Despite his doubts, this was the location chosen by the other party. All he and Castle could do was wait.
They waited a long time.
The burgers and fries were gone, and still no sign of anyone.
"Gentlemen, is everything to your satisfaction?" A man approached—clearly a manager. He wore a plain shirt, glasses, and carried himself with a calm, refined demeanor.
"Very much," Frank replied. "I like your food."
"I'm glad to hear that. Enjoy your meal," the man said with a polite smile before turning to assist other customers.
After he left, Frank glanced at Castle.
"Does anything about this place feel… off to you?"
"!" Castle immediately straightened, his gaze sharpening as he scanned the room, analyzing every detail.
"No ambush," he said after a moment.
Frank sighed. "That's not what I meant. I'm talking about the environment—the floor, the ceiling, the tables."
Castle looked down. "…What's strange about them?"
"…Forget it."
Frank stood up. "Let's go."
"Not waiting anymore?" Castle asked.
"No need," Frank said, glancing at the posted business hours on the wall. "We'll come back tonight."
Castle didn't question him. He simply followed.
Behind the counter, the manager watched them leave, his eyes narrowing slightly.
---
Frank had Castle drive him around the city, stopping at other branches of the same "Chicken Brothers" chain. They ordered food, sat for a while, and observed.
Only then did Frank realize something.
This wasn't just some local brand.
It was huge.
In this relatively small city alone, there were three or four locations. And when he checked online, the scale became even clearer.
The chain wasn't small—it was massive.
It had spread across multiple nearby states, covering nearly half the country, and was still expanding rapidly.
In the fast-food world, it ranked just below giants like McDonald's and KFC.
---
As night fell, Castle drove Frank back to the original location—the one where they were supposed to meet.
It was nearly closing time now.
Only a few customers remained.
One by one, they left, until the restaurant was nearly empty—just Frank and Castle remained.
"Sorry, we're closing," a staff member said.
"It's fine. We're waiting for someone," Frank replied calmly. "Go ahead and do your work."
The employee hesitated, clearly uncomfortable.
From his perspective, this looked like trouble.
Two men lingering at closing time, barely ordering anything—just a couple of sodas—and refusing to leave.
It looked exactly like the kind of customers who came looking for problems.
Want faster updates? Send those stones my way—the more, the merrier. Read early at [email protected]/A_divin5