In earlier years, the people of Zaun almost lived in dire straits. Every day, they were oppressed by various large and small gangs, surviving in the cracks.
Today, they would be extorted by one gang, tomorrow by another. Sometimes, if they paid protection money to one gang, its sworn enemy would be displeased and come to demand money too. If you didn't have money, well, no problem, a beating would make them feel better.
They would see if you dared to give protection money to the other side next time. In short, people were treated like walking ATMs, and life was miserable.
Later, the most powerful people in Zaun, the Chem-Barons, felt that if things continued this way, Zaun would descend into complete chaos. So, they all formed a loose alliance and, through discussion, came to a conclusion: encourage these "professional laborers" to join gangs, promising protection and enjoying another system of benefits, but requiring monthly taxes!
The tax was an income tax, meaning a certain percentage of the money earned that month had to be paid to the gang. Each gang had its own territory, which they did not infringe upon. Those earning less than 6 silver lun coins a month were exempt from tax, while those earning 6 silver lun coins or more had to pay a 15% tax.
After all, those earning less than 6 silver lun coins a month still had to figure out how to survive! Anyway, most houses in Zaun were owned by gangs, so paying rent was considered paying your taxes.
But there are gains and losses. Each gang offered welfare benefits to its laborers, such as a 5% discount at any club affiliated with the gang, and priority purchasing rights for fish caught by gang boats, etc.
With a carrot and a stick, using both kindness and severity, many laborers joined gangs under such operations, leading to the rapid development of Zaun's grassroots industry chain.
If a gang wanted to expand outwards, it was inevitable that conflicts would arise with another gang. To minimize losses to the greatest extent, a new concept was born: "Street Showdown."
Both sides would agree on a time and place, then bring their subordinates to compare whose side had more people, whose aura was fiercer, and whose underlings looked tougher.
Then, negotiations would take place.
Basically, bloodshed rarely occurred, because once someone died, the gang would have to pay compensation, which meant losing money, didn't it? If they didn't pay compensation, the members below would become disheartened, they would lose prestige, and eventually scatter.
Therefore, a Street Showdown was the best solution.
1 PM, Sixth Avenue.
This street, from beginning to end, was filled with various gambling dens, opium dens, brothels, and dog meat restaurants, etc. It could be considered a street for eating, drinking, and entertainment, and its daily profits were quite considerable.
By the time Durin arrived, the two gangs had already met. The number of people present on both sides was similar, about forty, including temporary enforcers.
And the gang Durin came to join was naturally the Tiger Claw Gang.
The Tiger Claw Gang was a small gang among the many gangs in Zaun's Lower District. The entire gang consisted of only about thirty people. They couldn't send all their gang members to participate in this Street Showdown; if a melee broke out, wouldn't that be a huge loss?
After all, the shops on other streets still needed gang members to patrol and guard them.
So, to make a show of force, they would naturally find some temporary thugs to stand on the street, ensuring their momentum wouldn't be weaker than the opponent's.
The small gang that had a dispute with the Tiger Claw Gang was called the Centipede Gang, and the entire gang also consisted of about thirty people.
First, Durin had to report to the small leader responsible for roll call.
This small leader was burly, with a ferocious scar on his face and a tattoo symbolizing the Tiger Claw Gang on his arm. He was surrounded by several new faces, young people who were likely doing this kind of work for the first time, their faces filled with excitement and thrill.
He was holding a piece of paper and a pen, and when he saw Durin, he nodded slightly and said, "Durin, you're taking this job again."
Durin, wearing a mask, stood at the very back of the crowd, behind the small leader, and replied, "Who told me I'm short on money lately? I have no choice."
The small leader nodded knowingly, then wrote Durin's name at the bottom of a list of names on the paper.
Then, he put away the paper and pen and instructed the new young people, "Later, all of you stand at the very back. Don't act rashly, don't be nervous, just stand there. Do what we do, and follow along. This job is very easy."
After speaking, the small leader turned and stood in front of these newcomers, to prevent them from getting hot-headed and doing something out of line.
Durin stood on his tiptoes and noticed some unfamiliar faces among the Centipede Gang opposite them; they were completely new strangers. They were all bald, burly, with centipede-like tattoos on their bodies, and their mere presence was enough to intimidate the Tiger Claw Gang.
They held various handy weapons like steel pipes, cleavers, or wrenches, which made Durin's heart pound. To ensure his safety, he decided to draw his short knife from his waist, then cut off a section of his sleeve, tightly wrapping the short knife around his palm, and vigilantly staring ahead.
At this moment, standing at the front of the line, the Tiger Claw Gang's leader, wearing a filtered respirator, reached up to smooth his balding hair. He had a short, stout, barrel-like physique, a large face, and a thick neck. His left arm was an arm pieced together from gears and brass, so intricately made that one might mistake it for a work of art.
The Tiger Claw Gang's leader spat fiercely onto the ground, and his muffled voice declared, "One-Eye, what the hell are you, daring to smash the bar I protect? You're stepping on my face! Stepping on the face of the entire Tiger Claw Gang! And when I was making my way in Zaun, you were still wearing open-crotch pants!"
"Haven't seen you in a few months, and now you're so arrogant, why don't you take a piss and look at yourself, can you even do it?!"
"What, the former shoe shiner has made a name for himself now, huh? Come on!"
As he spoke, the slightly balding leader pulled out a gold cogwheel from his pocket and flicked it, "Kneel down and lick my shoes clean with your tongue, this gold cogwheel is your reward!"
"Hahahahahahaha!!"
The many younger brothers behind him burst into boisterous laughter, making sounds like ghosts wailing and wolves howling.
The one-eyed man leading the opposite side, however, looked at the Tiger Claw Gang's leader expressionlessly. Above his round head was a vivid centipede tattoo. He took a final deep drag from the cigarette in his hand, then threw it on the ground and stomped it out with his foot. Only then did he look up at the Tiger Claw Gang's leader and confidently said, "Done talking? Today, I'm too lazy to waste words with you. Either you give up the first five shops on the left side of Eighth Avenue, or you wait for others to collect your corpse!"
"Bastard, you goddamn wish!" The slightly balding leader immediately became displeased and retorted, "You'd better go back, wash up, and sleep, and dream on!"
The one-eyed man indeed wasted no more words. He suddenly drew a machete from his waist and, without a word, charged forward, "Kill them for me!"
Under their boss's lead, the Centipede Gang members immediately became hot-headed, brandishing their cleavers and iron pipes as they rushed forward, shouting.
"Holy crap!"