This is all your fault.
We got caught last time in Fairbanks.
The abalone we poached was confiscated by the police, and we had to pay a fortune for bail.
The Black man, who was clutching his head, gave an embarrassed grin. His smile held a hint of ingratiation and guilt. He once again revealed the gold tooth set in his mouth, which glinted under the sun, looking particularly gaudy.
"Competition in Anchorage has been fierce lately," he explained. "A bunch of new gangs popped up, and those guys are bad news. We really couldn't beat them, so we had no choice but to come out here to find some new business."
"Did you injure the chief of the Bear Tribe?" Feng Shan's eyes sharpened in an instant, and he pressed the entrenching tool tightly against the man's cheek.
The atmosphere tensed at Feng Shan's question.
Everyone's gaze focused on the man, waiting for his answer. Nash raised his handgun.
