Chapter - 5530

Charlie settled into his seat, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "You know, I've never actually witnessed a gangster collecting protection money before. This should be quite the spectacle. Jordan, fetch me some of that mouth watering roast goose rice. I intend to savor every bite."

Jordan's voice quickened, "Mr. Wade, these guys are no joke! You really ought to..."

Before he could finish, Uncle Hogan interjected, giving Jordan an encouraging pat on the shoulder. Urgently, he urged, "The Young Master specifically requested your expertise with the roast goose rice. No time to waste, let's see if your culinary prowess has lost its edge."

In walked five young men, their attire exuding a hip-hop swagger mixed with an air of arrogance.

Leading the pack was a slender, towering figure, shrouded in an oversized hoodie that obscured half his face. His hands were buried deep in the front pockets, an unmistakable air of menace about him.

Stepping forward, he eyed Jordan and sneered, "Well, well, Mr. Goose from China. Have you got the money I asked for? If I don't see 3,000 bucks on this table by tonight, I'll make sure you get a taste of lead before your body takes a leisurely cruise back to China via the Hudson River."

Jordan's nerves danced on a knife's edge. But Charlie, seated at the table, interjected, his gaze fixed on Jordan. He prodded, "Boss, I'm famished and feeling rather pugnacious. Hurry along and prepare a meal for me."

Jordan stood frozen, uncertainty etched across his face. Uncle Hogan murmured, "Go on, now."

With determination etched in his features, Jordan gritted his teeth, "Alright... I'll go at once..."

With that, he turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen.

The lead man, observing Charlie dispatch his boss, wore an irksome scowl. He scoffed, "Looks like we've got some new business in town."

Taking a seat across from Charlie, he declared coolly, "Hey there, Chinese guy. Who gave you the audacity to interrupt my collection?"

Charlie's smile remained, his eyes locked onto the man's. He countered, "You don't let paying customers eat? Haven't you heard the customer is king?"

The man's face tightened, realizing Charlie's nonchalance. Sternly, he warned, "You clearly don't know the lay of the land here. From this point on, the entirety of Chinatown, I mean the whole shebang in New York, belongs to us Burning Angels. If you Chinese folks want to do business, you'll pay up, or face the consequences."

Charlie met the threat with a raised brow and a confident smile. "I must caution you, I'm not one for waiting, especially when there's a meal in front of me. So, whether you're a fiery angel, a savage beast, or a scampering rodent, it matters little. But if you and your entourage don't vanish from my sight this instant, I'll show you a fate far worse than death."

The man's temper flared. "You think I'm messing around?" he spat, drawing an M9 pistol from his pocket. He brandished it, aiming straight at Charlie. In a frigid tone, he warned, "You're about to get a firsthand taste of bullets."

Charlie arched an eyebrow, his smile unfaltering. "I've made people do all sorts of things, from eating less-than-appetizing meals to languishing in iron cages at the bottom of rivers. I've even used people as canvases for calligraphy. But I must confess, feeding them bullets is a novel concept. Since you're so keen, let's give it a whirl."

His gaze fell to the gun. "This should be a nine-millimeter, right? Thirteen rounds in the mag when it's full. With that many, I wonder if you'd prefer to chew or swallow."