“Secondly, also for the sake of Xiangkou, we must establish our footing in Yangzhou. Ruthless decisions and killing are inevitable. Although subduing the enemy without fighting is the best strategy, it depends on the timing—right now, it is absolutely not the time. Please, Father, see this clearly.” Grace Bolton's eyes shone: “Besides, among our brothers, who can be used and who cannot is still unclear, but when the knives are drawn and people are cut down, it will become crystal clear.”

“You think those few are usable?” Mr. Foster thought for a moment. There was no need to continue with Mark Carter, after all, he was just an outsider, so he changed the subject. He was quite familiar with the recent happenings in Xiangkou.

Although there were only thirty small-time thugs, organizing them was still troublesome. After a month of reorganization, they finally formed three groups: Paul White as acting leader of the first group, Peter Moore as acting leader of the second, and Richard Martin as acting leader of the third. As for Thomas Clark and George Knight, although their treatment was on par with the acting leaders and they temporarily held the title of street patrol, they were excluded from the power structure.

“In terms of intelligence, both Helen King and Frank Rivers have potential to be tapped. I’m already preparing to have them read more books. As for martial arts, Thomas Clark and George Knight have the best talent and will achieve the most in the future.” Grace Bolton spoke slowly: “But when selecting group leaders, the requirements are a fierce and brave nature, strong will, and obedience to orders. These three are currently the most suitable.”

“Mm, your choices are good. Go on, as your father, this is as much as I can do for now. As for whether you can stand out in the gang from here on, that will depend on your own abilities!” Mr. Foster nodded as he spoke.

Watching the young man disappear into the wind and rain, lightning then split the sky. For a moment, the room was very quiet. After a while, Mr. Foster's real son emerged from the inner room—the crippled Robert Foster. He spoke in a low voice: “Father?”

“Say no more, I have my own plans and considerations.” Turning around, Mr. Foster interrupted his son, fixing his gaze on him, his heart full of pain and regret.

“In fact, you had a good chance of becoming the gang leader’s disciple, but in that battle years ago, you were injured and fell into a trap, thus losing that path. The gang leader actually knows a bit about this, which is why our family has been looked after all these years. But such care is dangerous—favors always fade, especially after being away from the gang for so many years. So, someone from our family must stand out in the gang.”

After listening to his father, Robert Foster lowered his head and pondered for a moment: “Father, I understand now. But even so, is it necessary to treat Grace Bolton this way? I think he’s a bit arbitrary in some matters, and doesn’t seem respectful enough to you! For example, in this matter, he didn’t even consult you.”

“Oh, as for Grace Bolton, I know he has a bit of disregard for hierarchy in his bones, but at least on the surface, he manages. My son, you must understand, our family currently has no strength. You can no longer serve in the gang, and our relatives have no one who can stand out. All we have is influence. Right now, it’s just mutual need, keeping up appearances so things are easier to discuss in the future.”

“He’s just a lowly servant. Is he really worth your attention, Father?” Robert Foster still spoke with some disapproval.

“No, my son, this one is absolutely not an ordinary person. If he hadn’t had martial arts before, then no matter how much potential, it would have been a matter of a word from me. But he already had martial arts, and endured in the shop. Look at his methods these past few months—he knows when to advance and retreat, understands power plays. Though still immature, do you really think he’s from an ordinary family? After decades in the underworld, this is the kind of person I’ve learned to recognize. I suspect he’s a collateral descendant of some noble family; otherwise, it’s hard to explain his literary and martial talents and insight.” Mr. Foster continued, “Moreover, this one is extremely gifted. Even without me, with his martial arts and talent, he could still rise up, just with a few more twists and turns. Since that’s the case, why not build a good relationship with him? No matter what, he’s still from our circle. In the future, there will always be some connection, unless he wants to quit entirely. Otherwise, he would never burn bridges and earn a reputation for heartlessness.”

“Father, your thinking is indeed admirable. I am impressed.”

With a hearty laugh, Mr. Foster said, “At present, he’s far from being able to stir up any real trouble. Even if he does, if necessary, I can always put righteousness before family. I’m sure the gang leader would value our family even more. Besides, if he can rise up, you’ll have a chance to avenge your grudge.”

At this point, a trace of murderous intent flashed in Mr. Foster's eyes: “If not for this, why would I risk my old face to go to the gang leader and set up this Xiangkou in Yangzhou?”

Chapter Five: Small Battle (Part Two)

In the rain, George Knight and Thomas Clark had already received their task and slipped out onto the street.

Thomas Clark said worriedly, “We haven’t even finished learning martial arts, and now we have a mission. Do you think we really have to trick Suansicao out?”

George Knight looked at the still bustling scene and said helplessly, “Unless we want to quit, this is the only way. There’s no choice. When it comes down to it, we have nothing. If we don’t follow Big Bolton, we won’t even have food to eat. We’re brothers for life—are you willing to help me or not?”