Xizeer had been standing there for about thirty minutes when more than a dozen street punks with connecting jobs passed right in front of him, some even clearly wanting to rob him on the spot—money, body, all of it.
Xizeer couldn't be bothered with them. He slowly pulled out his gun, and only then did they scram.
Xizeer sighed. When he'd lived here for five years as a kid, he'd never felt anything in particular. After going back to the Kang family and spending all those years in China, coming back here again, he finally realized just how good things were back home. The way his dear father had governed all these years was at least hundreds of times better than this place.
Standing on the street for half an hour, Xizeer thought about quite a lot.
What he'd gone through at the police station today had really shown him just how important power… that kind of thing… really was.
