They all had supermodel-level bodies and faces think Rosie Huntington-Whiteley. Maybe not every single one hit that exact mark, but they weren't far off.
"Holy crap! Bro, where did you find these women?"
Even Tiger was stunned. Twenty Victoria's Secret model-types stood lined up, dressed in barely-there outfits. What man wouldn't lose his mind?
"Haha, after you guys went off to Mexico and I took down an illegal trafficking ring. That's where they came from. I was shocked too at first. But now, they're our best bargaining chips."
As he spoke, he pulled a girl in a sky-blue swimsuit closer, running his hands over her. She had clear, expressive eyes and a soft, delicate beauty. Even without much makeup, she exuded natural allure.
Her long legs were especially eye-catching, Watson guessed they had to be at least 90 centimeters.
"With women like this, we'll have a better shot at getting in with those government officials."
Charles stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Exactly, second brother. That's what I thought too. Those officials always pretend they're above money and power. But send a woman like this their way? Let's see what they say then."
As he said that, he pinched the cheek of the girl next to him and bit it hard.
The girl in the swimsuit patted at his back weakly, but it was about as effective as a mosquito trying to move a boulder.
He didn't let go of her lips for a long time.
"Haha, damn, that was good! Second brother, third brother, Watson tonight, let loose. Let's celebrate and push our cause forward!"
"Well then, don't mind if I do, big bro!"
Tiger didn't waste a second. He grabbed the girl he'd been eyeing and rushed into a room, slamming the door behind him. Heavy breathing followed soon after.
Watson followed suit. He might be a cop, but a cop is still a man and besides, it was all for the mission.
If he had to sacrifice a little for work, he believed the organization would understand.
Watson held a petite woman in his arms. She was Latina, with sun-kissed skin and a healthy, vibrant glow. Her skin was soft and smooth, like the fine sand of a Hawaiian beach.
With a curvy, cooperative woman in his arms, Watson didn't hold back. He was already rock hard, like an iron rod.
The woman wasn't new to the game, she knew exactly what she was doing. From "world tours" to "pop rocks," she played her moves like a seasoned pro.
According to her, that was how you climbed the ladder. Modeling wasn't easy. You had to make your own breaks. There were tons of beautiful girls out there what made you special?
Big breasts? A firm butt? Or just knowing how to give a good blowjob?
Watson didn't think too deeply about it. The road might be rough, but she'd chosen it. No one forced her. If you make that decision, then don't complain about how hard the journey is.
Same went for him. He'd chosen to become a cop. No one else to blame. It was just a matter of professional duty nothing more.
Brooklyn, New York – in Young Spider's rented room.
As always, the alarm clock rang on time. Young Spider opened his eyes—clear, focused. Last night's snowy conversation had clarified a lot.
You can't live your whole life for others. Sometimes, you have to choose yourself too.
He got up, washed his face, brushed his teeth, and put on his glasses. Stepping outside, he greeted the landlord's daughter a flat-chested blonde girl and even grabbed a slice of the cake she'd baked. As he looked at her shy, blushing face, he realized he'd been ignoring the people closest to him.
People are like that always looking ahead, always chasing something far away. But they often miss the warmth right in front of them. Only after a fall, a failure, or heartbreak do they start to see it.
He opened the door and stepped out into the crisp, clean air. The snow had just stopped falling, and the world smelled fresh and free from dust and grime.
I changed my hairstyle, lost weight, overhauled my whole style. I turned cold, tough, obsessed with money, charging forward relentlessly. Sorry but this time, I have to win.
Ding ding ding.
Bus Route Five pulled up. A voice over the speaker urged those without tickets to board quickly. Young Spider adjusted the straps on his backpack and sprinted for the bus, squeezing himself into the tightly packed crowd.
The bus was jammed, like a can of sardines. People were crammed shoulder to shoulder.
The smell was unbearable a mix of women's perfume, a guy scratching his unwashed feet, and the strong scent of garlic chive dumplings. The combination was so foul that Young Spider nearly puked up the cake he'd just eaten.
Holding onto the rail with one hand and pinching his nose with the other, he noticed two Black men slipping their hands into the pocket of a white woman nearby. Their movements were clumsy and obvious if this were one of those Japanese train dramas, they'd have already been labeled as creeps.
The woman noticed too. Her face went pale with fear as the men took her money. One of them glared at her, then reached around and grabbed her rear.
They moved on to find their next target. But no one said anything. No one reacted. Just like the old saying people only sweep the snow from their own doorstep. As long as it's not their problem, they turn a blind eye.
That silence only fueled the two men. In no time, they hit up two more white passengers, one man, one woman and still, not a soul dared to speak up. Their confidence only grew.
If Aetheris had been there, he would've recognized them instantly. These were the same two thugs from before Reggie, the "Burrowing Tiger," and Michael, the "Earth-Cracking Tiger" the ones who had once tried to assault Annie.
The original trio had shrunk to two after "River-Churning Tiger" Bernie suffered two major defeats and chose to reform. He was now locked away in Arkham Asylum.
Only two of the Brooklyn Five Tigers remained, rebranding themselves as Brooklyn's Twin Legends:
Michael of the South, Reggie of the North.
At that moment, the Twin Legends were hard at work "earning" their lunch. If anyone refused to hand over their cash, they'd simply lift their shirts to flash the weapons at their waists. Reggie had even traded his knife for a sleek, silver-handled pistol.
Young Spider saw everything but couldn't act. The bus was too crowded. He couldn't use his speed or strength properly.
And now that he'd lost his web-shooters, it was like losing an arm.
Still, seeing that they were only robbing people and not physically hurting anyone, he felt a tiny bit of relief. But they were getting closer just four or five people away.
(End of Chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09