"Son, before I tell you about this world, first tell me what you think it is," Lydia Chen asked, her voice weak from the recent surgery.
Ethan thought for a moment, then uttered a single word: "Underworld."
"Underworld?" Lydia gave a faint smile. "The underworld is illegal. If it were truly that, they wouldn't have lasted this long. To be precise, it's the gray area between black and white. This isn't to say they are less formidable than outright criminals; in some ways, they are more so."
"There are no streetlights that turn on at dusk."
Ethan understood the metaphor.
Lydia sighed. "They are businesspeople, but different from regular ones. They deal in ventures that generate fast money. Legally, they often have all the proper permits. But morally... what they do is wrong!"
"So, within this circle, there is constant strife. Michael has 'The Dynasty.' Do you know how much a bottle of beer costs there?"
Ethan nodded. "I've heard. Over a hundred, right?" He'd found it hard to believe when the rich kid in his class first mentioned the price.
"Yes. The cheapest one is one hundred and twenty-eight. That's equivalent to a twelve-pound carp. Do you think that's a profitable business?"
"Extremely," Ethan agreed. "Faster than robbing a bank."
"It is," Lydia continued. "Then why don't others open places like that? Because they can't operate. Anyone who dares to open a similar venue will have Michael's people showing up on their doorstep the next day. So, to be in these businesses, you need permission from the top—what they call 'paying respects to the dockmaster.' In this city, the dockmaster is known as 'The Boss.' You must have heard of him by now."
Lydia glanced at Ethan. "But for some businesses, the resources are limited. There are only so many customers. Once you have the dockmaster's blessing and a territory, you can operate. If there's no territory for you, you have to find a way to create one. In this circle, there's a term for it: 'collecting the trophy.' This 'trophy' is different from what you normally understand."
"It refers to something that someone who has the dockmaster's blessing but no territory must take from someone who is already operating that business. That thing is called the 'trophy.'"
Ethan's heart jolted. So, Jack "Two-Finger" Zhao's finger was the trophy!
Lydia's soft voice continued, "They operate in the gray. They seek wealth, not necessarily lives. Taking the trophy is a message: 'I also have the capability to take your life. So, hand over the business.'"
"You did a job for Michael, and he paid you a significant sum. That means he sent you to collect a trophy, didn't he?"
Ethan lowered his head, not daring to answer.
Lydia sighed again. "Tell me. Michael runs The Dynasty, which makes a fortune daily. What business could he possibly covet? Was it Gao 'The Tiger's' loan sharking? The Jing Family's brothels? Peng Si's property management? Sister Qi's construction crew? Or He Fei's taxi company?"
She listed several names and operations.
Ethan's eyes widened. He had always believed his mother was an ordinary woman. Now, it was clear he had been wrong. His mother had undoubtedly been part of this world herself!
Ethan took a deep breath and shook his head. "None of those. It was Jack 'Two-Finger' Zhao from the Lansway Spa. Mom, do you know him?"
Lydia's brow furrowed. "Zhao? The casino underneath Lansway? That operation... even The Boss covets it. But because of Zhao's connections higher up, The Boss couldn't move against him directly. Since when did Michael have the guts for that?"
Ethan answered, "It was for Mr. Kun."
"No wonder," Lydia said, the puzzle piece clicking into place. "The Boss has long coveted Zhao's business but couldn't act himself, so he allied with Mr. Kun, using Kun's name to target Zhao. But why would Michael send you?"
Ethan weighed his options, then decided to tell her the whole story.
A cold glint flashed in Lydia's eyes. "Michael Langford... this wasn't about sending my son to collect a trophy! This was about making him clean up your family's mess!"
Ethan reached out and held his mother's hand. "Mom, don't be angry. It's over. I won't have any more contact with him. The money from this is enough for us."
Lydia raised her hand and gently touched Ethan's bandaged head. "Silly child, it's not as simple as you think. This is a world with its own rules. Throughout history, many have wanted to wash their hands of it, but few have succeeded. You took Zhao's trophy. You think he'll just let it go? And the Langford family... you were the one who secured the trophy this time. Do you think they'll be content? Once you're in this circle, there's no easy way out!"
"Mom, I..." Ethan started to say something but suddenly caught sight of the dark bruise on his mother's arm, visible under the loose hospital gown sleeve.
Ethan had suffered enough injuries in his life to recognize a fresh bruise. His mother had just had major surgery and was confined to her bed!
He suddenly remembered what Maya had told him earlier—a woman had come to see his mother.
Lydia pulled her arm back in a panic, hiding it under the blanket and adjusting her sleeve to cover the bruise. "Son, I'm tired. I need to rest. You should get some rest too."
Ethan didn't press further, simply nodding.
That afternoon, after ensuring his mother was sound asleep, Ethan quietly got up, slipped out of the room, and gently closed the door behind him.
He still needed to collect the final payment from Michael. More importantly, there was a score to settle. For Ethan, harming his mother was an absolute line no one could cross, regardless of their power or status.
When it came to his mother, Ethan didn't believe in waiting for revenge. If there was a debt, it had to be paid now.
The moment the door clicked shut, Lydia's eyes slowly opened on the hospital bed.
Inside The Dynasty, Lucas Langford sat leisurely cracking melon seeds. A middle-aged woman sat beside him, and across from them sat Michael Langford. Summer stood behind Michael.
"Michael, that's enough now," the middle-aged woman said, her tone dripping with dissatisfaction. "It's been two weeks. There's no need to keep sidelining our son like this."
This woman was Michael's wife, Gwendolyn Langford.
Michael looked weary. "The Boss himself commented on it. There's nothing I can do."
Gwendolyn scowled. "But you sent that other one to his death, didn't you? Isn't that enough to show sincerity? The Boss isn't that petty, is he?"
Summer's expression tightened slightly at the words "sent to his death." There had been some commotion at Lansway last night, she'd heard it was messy, but no concrete news had emerged yet about the outcome.
Lucas chimed in, "Yeah, Dad. It's not like The Boss expects me to go to Lansway and fix this, right? If I could pull that off, The Boss would probably want me working for him directly!"
Just as Michael was about to respond, a commotion erupted from the entrance of The Dynasty.
A voice, cold and sharp, cut through the noise.
"Get out of my way. I'm here for Michael Langford."