I decided to put aside the fact Rod just casually consumed that awful concoction. Over the thundering sounds of music, I did my best to relay the events that had transpired in his absence. After I finished my story Rod chugged another shot of everclear–with no reaction–and nodded.
"Anything new?"
"New–?! Did this happen last week?"
"Last month. Same shit, different day. One nigga crashes out, another nigga fronts like he about it, and another one swings over a bitch. What are we talking about?"
"Those are stupid reasons–"
A thought came to mind.
How many times in my travels had a tavern fight been started from someone staring at an orc? How many times had I myself started those fights?
Maybe this world was not all that different.
"I did hear you punched the bouncer over ten dollars," Rod chuckled.
"That's new?"
"No, usually Hector makes them bite the curb. He must have been in a good mood if you walked away. I was there last time, look at this–"
Rod displayed a moving picture on his phone. I recognized Hector immediately as he stood over a previous victim. I looked away before Hector's heel came down on the man, unable to stomach the sight. Unfortunately, the sound it made came through just fine.
"That guy? Gone. Not dead, but I heard he moved the fuck outta Stanlowe."
Rod hailed for another round and looked around the room.
"North Forest…fuck. Why'd they have to be here?"
"I didn't know you had a grudge against them."
Rod downed another shot everclear and balled a fist.
"They take all the bad bitches back to their afterparty, of course I have a grudge. Everyone knows they got it. The bitches for sure know they got it. None of their shit is rental."
Keke came by and slid water in front of me. She paused for a moment to take one of Rod's empty glasses before he spoke.
"'Sup with it?"
Keke pursed her lips, nodded, and walked away. Rod took another shot back and rolled his eyes.
"She ugly anyways."
"Apparently North Forest–don't you have a child? And a mother for that child?"
"Nigga–!"
Rod raised a hand in front of him and looked around. After confirming no one around us gave a reaction he turned to face me.
"Mind your business! Fuckin' up the game, damn. Do you, nigga, and let me do me."
I raised my hands in retreat and sipped my water. Rod gave several more attempts before grumbling away his sentiments.
"Anyway, I heard North Forest and the Stans of the West Side are teaming up. Do you think Xay Thomas could be in this room?"
"Who?"
I blinked once. This was my comrade, supposedly.
"The guy who shot me."
"Oh. What about him?"
An involuntary eye twitch came from me. I did my best to move on with the conversation.
"Do you think the appearance of North Forest means he could be in this room?"
"What? No. Not at all."
There was a mix of disappointment and relief when I heard those words. On one hand, my target was nowhere to be found. On the other, I would no longer have to worry about what I would do if I saw him in the next five minutes.
"Just cause you HEARD something doesn't mean they cool like that. Sorta like us."
"Excuse me?"
"Are you Three-Six? Yeah. Are you my boy? No. I don't know you like that, nigga. Don't care if I never do. If I slide I slide cause you're Three-Six. That's it."
"...I suppose clarity is better than false camaraderie."
"Just how it is."
Rod called for another round. I took a minute to ponder his words, sipping my water every so often.
"I'd rather have an ally, regardless of their reason," I said, "Even if it's as petty as one organization's monopoly on the hoes."
"Yeah, whatever. They can't even scrap for real," he took another shot, "Everyone's bad with the strap. No hands whatsoever on their squad."
I recognized some of those words. Rod glanced over and his face changed to concern.
"They can't run the ones."
I shook my head.
"They're shit when it comes to these," he said raising his fists, "Anyone is tough with a gun, it's a fucking gun. Half of 'em can't aim for shit either. Let anyone see me about the hands though. Been too long since my last fight."
"You fight?"
"Not professionally. Just some street shit. There are rules to it."
[REPEATABLE QUEST DISCOVERED: RUN MY FADE]
Oh.
The description expanded.
[ONE ON ONE BRAWLS WITH FIXED RULESET]
[TRAINS ATHLETICS]
"When's your next fight?"
"Two days."
"Can I come?"
"No."
Rod laughed and ordered another round. Keke shook her head and took away his empty glasses.
"You had six shots of everclear. You're done."
"Do I look drunk? Whatever," Rod turned to face me, "What I meant to say was fuck no."
"I fought you, Q, and Will by myself–"
"We weren't trying to kill you, dumbass!"
"So the difference is you're trying to kill the guy in the street fight?"
"As long as the timer is going. Otherwise, no."
I took a quick glance at my current stats.
[+29 FLOW]
[+15 SLY]
[+12 PRESENCE]
[+10 INGENUITY]
[+20 ATHLETICS]
These weren't everything. It took more than just numbers in a new world to win a fight, that I was sure of. However, Rod was right about one thing. Guns made anyone a threat, regardless of their aim. The perks I had chosen bent for ranged tools, not my fists.
Could I not run the ones?
What if Xay Thomas could run the ones?
Absolutely not. This needed immediate correction.
"Rod, you must take me where you run these ones."
"I can't–"
"Rod, I have to–"
"Nope."
I tilted my head.
"Are you not just a group of ruffians in the street?"
"Ruffians–what the fuck is a ruffian? No, we're not just in the street. There are rules to this shit. No gangs. No jumping. No guns. Two niggas. Three rounds."
Rod looked around and spotted a woman he particularly liked walking off with a man in green.
"Son of a bitch. Fucking North Forest. You're the block boy. I can't have you getting knocked the fuck out one day and then on the corner the next. Gonna make everyone else think we can't fight if you go out and get stomped."
"You said no gangs."
"Correct. What happens there, is settled there. Doesn't mean it won't look bad. You think they're not keeping tabs on where you're from? North Forest doesn't even come to those anymore."
"Because they can't run the ones–"
"Because they can't run the ones. But they have no problem running off with all the FINE HOES!"
Another man in green walked out the door with the woman I swore I saw Will with. By coincidence, Will trudged next to us and took a seat, defeated.
"These niggas get on my LAST NERVE. I talk this hoe the ENTIRE night. My arm around her, got her hella drinks, everything! Nigga from North Forest rolls up and just flexes on me. Boom. Gone."
"Everytime," groaned Rod, "Every single goddamn time."
"Rod! You shoulda saw how that bitch threw it back! Her ass was so–"
Will was not able to finish his sentence due to the raw energy emanating from him. After ten seconds of feral growling he started again.
"I'm ready to go. I don't want none of these hoes."
"Shoulda just went on the two-man with Q," sighed Rod, "I'm gonna stay. Maybe I find something, I don't know."
"Jamal? What about you?"
I took in the sights one more time before nodding. Will and I turned to leave before I heard my name called from behind me. I turned to see Keke standing at the bar.
"You're not gonna ask for my number?"
Rod's jaw dropped. Will pat my shoulder and shoved me back toward the bar with a laugh.
"I didn't know you wanted me to have it."
"You didn't ask. Let me see your phone."
No protest was heard from me. Just as soon as I handed her my phone, it was back in my hand.
[NEW CONTACT: KEKE]
"Two more shots," Rod requested, "I can't take this shit, man."
"You're cut off! See you around, Jamal."
I could not muster any words to leave my mouth. I opted for a simple nod and walked away with Will.
"I see you, Jamal. I see you. Just hope she doesn't talk to North Forest on the way out."
The next day it was back to business. Stand on my designated corners and wait for the eventual customer. Maybe every other hour shoo away the occasional homeless person begging for a product and offering obscene favors.
"Hey, hey!"
"Go away, you're not getting free–John?"
I turned to see the only vagabond whose words I could understand. The light in his eyes was being heavily countered by the smell he carried.
"Now I don't got what you said you wanted, but I got something better!"
I took one step away from John to lessen the assault on my nose.
"If it's not information relating to Xay, I doubt you could…"
He waved a stack of green back and forth, like bait to a fish. From what I could see, the stack was mostly clean. Maybe one or two had some sort of marking on them that I could worry about later.
"How much is that?"
"This is one hundred and ninety-seven dollars. One day. The group I know in North Forest? That's where the money is."
"How many are your number?"
"Ten. That includes me too."
He handed the money over to me to verify. It was indeed one hundred and ninety-seven dollars.
"This is around twenty per person."
"Sure is."
"And you can do this every day?"
"Sometimes more."
More, he says. It made sense, given they had nothing else to do. I signaled for John to follow me around a corner.
"Oh–and–and! I heard something about Xay Thomas!"
I raised my eyebrows as I took out the appropriate bags of herbs. Seconds later, I still waited for a response.
"Aren't you gonna ask me?" he said, "I thought you wanted to know–"
"What did you learn?"
"Well supposedly…he's the brother of the leader!"
"I…I know that already, John."
I finished handing him what he paid for. In one swoop he stuffed it all into his jacket and adjusted how he stood.
"Oh. Well that's just what I heard."
"Right. Let me know immediately if you hear anything else.
"Can do, brother–"
"Not your brother."
"Right. Thanks for the weed! Let Q know he always has customers!"
John waddled off with as much contraband a jacket could carry. One hundred and ninety-seven dollars worth of it. If this was something John could bring every day, then getting money is guaranteed. But what could I even do with it? All I had done with money was buy overpriced alcohol from Keke.
And the pipe, but I could justify that purchase.
What else could this money get me that would get me closer to Xay Thomas? I'd have to meditate on that. The rest of my day went without anything of note, with me returning to Will's house in the evening to cash in. When I went home and entered my room, I saw the glint of the gun I stole from Julian's old car. I had not touched it since the last time I last used it. My aversion to use it stemmed from its unfamiliarity, as I would still rather prefer a bow.
I concede that these guns were more efficient. Point, pull, and the projectile is there before I can track it. No wonder everyone else praised this weapon, what can it do that a bow cannot?
For one, strike silently. Even if I did get an arrow off on Xay, they would surely fire on me before I could approach him and make him stare into the face of the man he wounded.
It was time to find Rod and join this club of his. Maybe I would be far from my element, devolving into melee range, but being able to "run the ones" in this world would prove valuable.