Chapter Seventy-One: The Clown

When they went to the bar that evening, Brekin poured Qiu Fengyu a drink with the air of someone presenting a treasure, smiling as he said, “I’ve taken care of everything for you.”

Qiu Fengyu was momentarily taken aback. He looked at him and asked, “What do you mean?”

Brekin grinned. “That Japanese guy—the one who got mixed up with the Russian girl. His father came looking, said you’d introduced him, so… I helped him out.”

Qiu Fengyu neither acknowledged nor denied it. He simply raised his glass to Brekin, which was acknowledgment enough.

“I doubt that Japanese fellow is having an easy time now,” Brekin went on, still rambling. “The old man’s got him on a tight leash.”

Qiu Fengyu grew impatient. “So how do you want me to repay you?”

“Oh, no, no. You’re my friend—just doing a favor for a friend!” Brekin hurried to reassure him.

“If you really want to do me a favor… then keep your mouth shut,” Qiu Fengyu replied, downed his drink, and gestured for a refill.

Davis didn’t come that night.

After two drinks, Qiu Fengyu found the evening dull and decided to head home.

The next morning, he didn’t stay out long before returning from his workout. Tim had already left for school. Davis wouldn’t be back for a while. But as soon as Qiu Fengyu stepped into the shop and showered, he saw the Japanese man, Kenzo Mikura, pacing outside.

“Thank you so much for your help!” As soon as he entered, Kenzo bowed deeply to Qiu Fengyu.

“Brekin told me. It’s all settled,” Qiu Fengyu said. “Russian women have connections with the mob, so… you know what to do. Don’t mess with them.”

“Yes, I understand. I hope you’ll give me a chance to treat you to dinner tonight as a token of my gratitude,” Kenzo said, humble in his demeanor.

Qiu Fengyu considered it. He had nothing planned for dinner, so he agreed.

Kenzo left, clearly pleased. He felt a great sense of relief now that this seemingly troublesome matter had been resolved so simply. Qiu Fengyu was difficult to read—his influence in town seemed substantial.

Yet from what Kenzo had heard, Qiu Fengyu hadn’t lived in this town long. How was it that he commanded such respect from everyone? Remembering Brekin’s attitude the first time he’d mentioned Qiu Fengyu’s name, Kenzo was glad he’d done so.

Clearly, if he wanted a peaceful life here, he’d have to stay on good terms with this immigrant from China. Even Brekin, the local pimp, seemed to be wary of him.

Kenzo thought it over, deciding that inviting Qiu Fengyu to dinner again to strengthen their relationship was the right move.

After Kenzo left, Qiu Fengyu didn’t give the matter another thought. He simply waited for Davis to arrive, and the two of them soon began tinkering and making plans again.

It was Davis’s first time joining Qiu Fengyu in an operation, and he was excited. His responsibilities were technical—his forte.

At dinner, not only was Kenzo with Qiu Fengyu, but Masatoshi Mikura was present as well. He looked haggard and downcast, but under Kenzo’s stern gaze, he forced himself to sit up straight.

“Thank you, Mr. Qiu, for helping us out of such a serious mess,” Kenzo said sincerely, raising his glass to Qiu Fengyu.

After draining his glass, Ryoko Mikura, standing nearby, refilled Qiu Fengyu’s drink.

Masatoshi also raised his glass, though his face was strained. “To you, sir.” He spoke formally, said nothing more, and downed his drink in one.

Both father and son were reserved throughout the meal, while Qiu Fengyu enjoyed his food and drink without restraint.

After all, if they were treating him, why make things awkward? He felt no guilt; if he hadn’t pointed out the right channels to Kenzo, or if Kenzo hadn’t mentioned his name, Brekin might not have been so helpful.

When the meal was over, Qiu Fengyu excused himself. The family saw him out.

This time it was Ryoko and Minami Mikura who accompanied him. Little Minami, the younger sister, was clearly more endearing than her beautiful older sister, Ryoko. Qiu Fengyu even held her hand as they walked to the gate.

“All right, we’ll stop here,” Qiu Fengyu said, crouching down to Minami’s level. “Here’s a present for you.” He searched his pockets, found only a coin, and placed it in her hand.

“Thank you!” the little girl replied in English.

“That’s a lucky coin,” Qiu Fengyu said, making it up as he went along. “If you ever need help, just say, ‘My hero, please come save me,’ and a great hero will appear.”

Minami didn’t understand, but her face lit up with joy. She instinctively threw her arms around Qiu Fengyu’s neck.

Ryoko, the older sister, was not amused. She huffed, “She’s only ten, sir.”

Qiu Fengyu scratched his nose and laughed. “Well, I think you misunderstood me. Goodbye, then. Hey… goodbye.” He pinched the little girl’s cheek.

“That’s really not appropriate…” Ryoko frowned at Qiu Fengyu. “It’s not polite… she’s only ten…”

Qiu Fengyu suddenly looked at her oddly, then nodded. “I know she’s ten. But… do you want me to do the same to you? If pinching someone’s cheek depends on age, well, you’re clearly not ten…” Laughing heartily, he walked away.

Ryoko was stunned, then quickly realized he’d twisted her words and teased her—a little exasperating. No, very exasperating.

“Ryoko, he still hasn’t shown us how to slaughter a cow,” Minami tugged at her sister’s skirt, looking after Qiu Fengyu with anticipation.

“We have to be patient, Minami,” Ryoko said, though she was annoyed. A moment later, she let it go, turned to her little sister, and said, “Let’s go back now.”

“All right… but I still want to see him slaughter a cow!” Minami insisted, an odd wish for a ten-year-old.

“Fine, but… we’ve been here for days. You need to go to school. Tomorrow, we’ll visit the local elementary school. I’m sure you’ll fit in quickly.”

“No, I don’t like school!” Minami pouted, her face troubled.

After Qiu Fengyu returned, Tim came by for training.

The days passed quickly. Soon, it was the weekend, and Monday would be Halloween, so Tim had a holiday—three days in total. However, though there was a performance at Tim’s school for Halloween, he had no interest in joining. He didn’t see himself as one of those exuberant high school students.

On the night before Halloween, Qiu Fengyu, Davis, and Tim decided to go to Paso City. They took the Mustang and set out, planning to spend Halloween there in a meaningful way.

They weren’t the only ones. The townspeople, too, wanted to celebrate Halloween in style. The day before, many residents were already dressed in outlandish costumes and masks, or painting their faces with wild designs. It was quite a spectacle.

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of San Diego, in a large villa nestled among the trees, lights blazed, and the sounds of a noisy gathering could be heard from afar.

Several burly, bald-headed men stood guard at the gate, their bodies covered in chaotic tattoos, looking like giant, patterned worms. Their presence was intimidating. Patrols moved along the villa’s walls, armed with automatic rifles equipped with night vision scopes.

“I always knew this was my kind of job,” muttered a man in a Mustang parked beside a nightclub in Paso City, furiously tapping on his keyboard. It was Davis.

“Sir, here’s your Halloween treat,” said a clown, carrying a tray to the villa’s gate.

“Pizza? Did we order pizza?” one of the guards asked.

“Yes, sir. You did. For someone named Kirill… uh, Gras… mov?” The clown checked his slip, then corrected himself, “Grasimov. Yes, that’s it!”

“The boss ordered it,” another guard said, recognizing the name. He opened the gate and told the clown, “Stay here, buddy. Hand it to us and we’ll take it inside.”