With no other options left, he had no choice but to go out and do odd jobs on the street—the kind of work you often see in cities these days, like fixing houses, washing windows, pedaling a cart—jobs that don’t require any ID or education. Occasionally, when life got tough, he’d moonlight as a petty thief, and if things got really desperate, he’d go to a mid-sized restaurant and eat without paying. After all, William Smith had been both a monk and a soldier, tough-skinned and thick-skinned, and a few waiters at a restaurant really couldn’t do anything to him. Of course, he couldn’t avoid ending up at the police station, but even then, he’d usually just get a beating with a police baton and then be released. There were just too many drifters like him from poor counties, and the police station couldn’t get any fines out of them and would have to find a place to feed and house them. Even sending them back home would cost money for a train ticket! It just wasn’t worth it, so it was better to let them go. William Smith actually enjoyed going in and out, often thinking to himself that the socialist legal system wasn’t so bad after all.

Over a year ago, when Jinxiu Karaoke City opened and was hiring security guards, William Smith’s streetwise friend from Fengcheng, Henry Johnson, encouraged him to apply. To help with the application, Henry Johnson even made a fake ID for William Smith. The guy in charge of hiring, who looked like a security guard himself, saw that William Smith was tall and well-built, with a scar on his face and a decent-looking tattoo peeking out from his half-sleeve shirt. Just standing there, he looked intimidating without even trying. The recruiter didn’t even bother to look at the fake ID that William Smith was most worried about. He just said, “Kid, you’re the one. Go get your uniform in the back, you start tomorrow!” As for Henry Johnson, who looked fierce by nature, he was made a team leader on the very first day of recruitment.

“What the hell, is this a job fair or a gangster recruitment? Why are they only picking thugs!” The more William Smith watched the rest of the hiring process, the less he understood. The so-called security guards being hired were all bald with slanted eyes, faces full of scars and fat, buck teeth, and red noses—basically, the uglier and meaner-looking, the better. Not a single one looked decent or proper. Although William Smith was reluctant to lump himself in with these guys, standing among this group of colorful security guards, his own looks and demeanor stood out all the more. Over time, he just got used to it.

Later on, as things developed, it became clear just how creative this round of hiring had been. On regular days, the security guards were responsible for parking cars and maintaining order, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But whenever there was a drunk causing trouble, someone trying to pick a fight, or a customer refusing to pay after hiring a prostitute, this group of top-tier security guards proved irreplaceable. Just imagine—dozens of guys, tall and short, all with scarred faces, buck teeth, bulging eyes, and bald heads, standing together. They were even more intimidating than armed police, and their presence was overwhelming. The customers were all there to have fun; no one wanted to ruin their night over a few hundred yuan, so the security guards were basically unbeatable. Even when facing real gangsters in a brawl, this group of security guards together had a certain deterrent effect—at least, as long as things didn’t get physical.

……

To be honest, William Smith had never thought he’d end up in this line of work, but aside from this job, he really couldn’t find anything better. In fact, working as a security guard or a “little brother” at the karaoke club was actually a pretty promising career.

One possible career path was to be a “little brother” for a while, inevitably surrounded by a group of hostesses. If the hostesses liked you, maybe one of them would willingly make you her “madam,” and who knows, one day you might take a few hostesses with you to another club and become the boss yourself. At that point, all that’s left is to count your money. Another path was to become a henchman for the boss—here, they’re all called “little brothers.” The boss could be the owner of the karaoke club, a businessman who frequents the club, or even a top hostess herself. These people often hire a few bold and ruthless “little brothers” to handle some shady business. The risks are high, but the pay is definitely attractive.

After becoming a security guard, William Smith quickly rose to fame. His rise was as fast and as long-lasting as the club’s top hostess, all because he could fight. In less than a year at the club, he’d been in over a dozen fights with local thugs and even gangs with underworld connections, and he’d never lost. What’s more, he’d never been seriously injured, nor had he ever seriously hurt anyone else. You have to understand, most “little brothers” at the club don’t last a year—either they switch jobs and become bosses themselves, get hacked up, or get in trouble for being too violent and have to go on the run. But William Smith was clearly an exception, thanks to the solid foundation he’d built as a monk and a soldier. Still, William Smith often thought, if the old monk knew that the skills of self-cultivation he’d learned in the temple were now being used to protect hostesses, it might just make the old man roll over in his grave.

In less than a year, William Smith had already been promoted to head of security at the club. If there were some kind of award system, he’d probably have been named model worker or outstanding youth without any problem. In the eyes of the hostesses, he wasn’t a bad guy and had decent character—at the very least, he looked out for their interests and made them feel safe. In the eyes of the boss, he wasn’t demanding, was reliable and steady, and at the very least wouldn’t run off with a hostess or poach staff for another club. A “little brother” like this is hard to find these days, even if you search with a lantern!