"Just kidding," Golden Hair said, pulling a phone from his sleeve. It was 9527's.
Force of habit—he couldn't help but lift things wherever he went.
He led 9527 to a table in the corner, where several of his old acquaintances were already sitting.
Naturally, they weren't exactly upstanding citizens.
"Well, well! A toast to the return of the old swindler!"
Golden Hair hadn't been lying. The liquor he brought was the good stuff, not watered down at all.
After a few rounds, they were all pleasantly buzzed.
"Alright, spit it out, you old swindler. What's this 'big score' you were talking about? You're not just trying to get us to pay some 'intel fee' upfront, are you? Trying to pull a fast one on your own brothers?"
9527 pretended to be a little tipsy. "Why would I scam you guys? This is a huge deal. The kind of score you might see once in a lifetime."
The men at the table were all seasoned veterans of their trade, but none had been involved in many big-time scores.
