"Hmm?"
"Why don't we just drive the car over there to sell? That road isn't too narrow; parking our car there won't cause any trouble."
Fiona gestured. "Of course, I know they're strict about food trucks, but we're selling in the morning. Those people in uniform haven't even started work in the morning. Even if someone really comes, we can just close the door and leave, which is much faster than moving things around like we do now."
The more Fiona spoke, the more feasible she thought it was. "This way we can bring a lot more stuff, sell more and faster, and it will be much easier."
Shane folded up the folding chair and shook his head. "No."
"Why?" Fiona didn't understand. "Afraid of being caught? We just need to run fast. Who in the South Side hasn't been chased?"
"Not afraid of being caught," Shane stuffed the table into the car and turned to look at her.
"Safety first. We're already conspicuous enough. Driving a food truck would attract the attention of the entire subway station."
"At a morning rush hour place like the subway station, with so many people, if someone finds us an eyesore and makes a report call, wouldn't all our efforts be in vain?"
Shane pointed to the things they were using to set up the stall now. "Look at our stall stuff. Even if confiscated by the government people, at most we lose a few rotten tables and boxes; we won't lose much at all."
Shane kicked the tire of the van.
"Also, Kevin's broken car can't withstand tossing around, nor can it withstand inspection. If someone really comes to make trouble, we won't even be able to run away smoothly. We're fine like this, low profile and safe. Besides, haven't you always been about safety first?"
Fiona opened her mouth, wanting to refute.
Her view on some things was safety first, but when she felt the danger was 'controllable', she wanted to take some risks. It was very contradictory.
Fiona opened her mouth, looked at Shane's expression, which didn't waver at all, so she could only swallow the words she wanted to say.
"Fine, fine, you're the boss now, you have the final say."
Most things were loaded into the car. Fiona walked to the alley with the last coffee bucket, while Shane stood in front of their stall, took out a pack of unopened cigarettes from his pocket, and walked straight towards Marcus.
Marcus was packing up his donut boxes. Seeing Shane walking over, he greeted him.
"Hey, closing up quite early today."
"Can't help it, Thanksgiving, you know. Everyone wants to stay home and be thankful for those Indians who had good hearts but got no good returns."
Shane walked up to him, opened the cigarette pack, took one out for himself, and then handed the whole new pack over.
Marcus took the cigarettes, pulled one out too, and lit it. "What's up? Something wrong?"
"Maybe I won't come often in a few days," Shane lit Marcus's cigarette first, then his own. "By then, it'll just be my sister here. Maybe other kids from the family or others will come to help. I'll have to trouble you to look after them then."
Marcus stuffed the cigarettes into his pocket, waved his hand, with an expression of 'is this small matter worth being so formal?'
"I thought it was something big. Just this? No problem at all."
He pointed to his own stall again. "Because of your huge customer flow these few days, incidentally, I also made a lot these days. We look out for each other, I understand."
As he spoke, Marcus paused again and looked at Shane.
"You kid, are you going to do some big plan? Look at your expression, doesn't look like petty messing around."
Shane didn't answer, just smiled, then raised his hand into a fist and gently thumped his left chest.
Brothers in heart.
Marcus understood this gesture. He grinned and thumped his chest too.
Shane chatted with him for a few more sentences, then turned and walked into the small alley to drive home.
...
Back home, Shane didn't rest directly like before, but went to the basement first and stuffed some things needed for shooting into a backpack.
Now that the breakfast stall was stable and Kevin had become fat enough, it was time to officially start his fitness influencer career.
After packing up and resting for a while, he went to the first floor, prepared the food to be sold at noon with Fiona, and got into the van.
The car drove all the way to the Alibi Room and stopped at the alley entrance.
Shane got out of the car and lifted out the food Kevin ordered from him. He closed the door of the carriage and greeted Fiona in the driver's seat.
"Good luck at noon. Remember to tell me if anything happens."
Fiona hummed a few times while reversing the car. "Okay, okay, our South Side big star. Remember to earn more. We'll have to rely on your face for food in the future."
Shane waved his hand. "No problem. Actually, sometimes being handsome is very troublesome, not to mention my face is already an important asset of the United States."
"Mmhmm~." Fiona responded with a speechless expression.
Shane turned around after speaking, pushed open the door of the Alibi Room holding the foam box.
Bang!
Whoosh—
When Shane entered the door, confetti exploded.
Shane looked around. Unexpectedly, the Alibi Room was already more than half full at noon.
These old drunks looked at him and started cheering.
"Woohoo! Our South Side filial son is here!"
"Is he the kid who beat up Frank?"
"Well done!"
Shane froze for half a second, then quickly understood. It seemed the news of him beating Frank until shit and pee came out had spread.
In the South Side, whoever beat up Frank could be called a hero, not to mention it was Frank's son who beat him up this time. This belonged to the annual satisfying story, the kind that could be repeatedly savored for several years.
Shane shouted at this group of cheering old drunks: "Alright, alright, don't make it look like I was elected mayor of Chicago."
As soon as his voice fell, someone immediately replied: "A mayor isn't as useful as you!"
Someone else raised a glass: "Right on. I toast to you, for beating Frank like a dog!"
Shane nodded at them.
"Okay, next time I beat Frank, I'll notify you in advance, but I have to charge admission, and it won't be cheap."
"How much? I'll book a seat right now."
"I'll pay extra, can I kick him too?"
"Hahaha"
The whole place burst into laughter.
Shane ignored them and walked straight to the bar.
At the bar, V was also there today.
Looking at Shane holding the foam box, V said:
"Oh, did our respected Mayor Shane bring supplies too? Is this preparing to distribute relief food to us?"
Kevin also chimed in from the side, "You didn't secretly take some of the stuff I ordered to bribe Karen and please her, did you?"
Shane put the foam box on the bar with a thud. "You think too much. I don't need to rely on these foods to bribe her; I have my own 'methods'."
Hearing Shane's words, V glanced at him sideways.
"Well, well, well, listen, the words of the South Side's deep affection prince are different. Looks like someone possesses some 'exclusive techniques'."
Kevin lifted the lid of the foam box to take a look, acting like checking goods on the street.
"Right, right, right, these are the goods I wanted. Brother, you are reliable."
"Kevin," Shane knocked on the counter, calling the attention of Kevin, who was counting food, back to him.
"What's wrong, planning to raise the price temporarily?"
"No, I'm just notifying you that your good days are about to end."