Chapter 55
Chapter 55 How Many Can You Fight?
Albert’s words sent a shock through Brittany, and she instinctively hid behind Daniel, tugging at his shirt and whispering urgently. “Loser, just how good can you fight? Can you get me out of here? If you can take me safely away from Windows Street, I won’t tell Jessica what you’ve done.”
“Just a while ago, you wanted me to kneel and apologize to Mr. Albert. Now that Mr. Albert wants you, why do you want to run?”
“It’s all your fault! If you hadn’t insisted on coming to Windows Street, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Brittany was genuinely terrified and started to cry. She knew what kind of man Albert was. If she ended up in his hands today, she thought she might as well die now. She had never even had a boyfriend, and she was still a virgin. Who knew what Albert would do to her? NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.
“Why are you crying now? Do you think Albert will let us go? Not to mention we represent TMO; we can’t let the group be disgraced. It’s just a Black Panther Club, right? So they want to speak with their fists? Are my fists somehow softer than theirs?”
“Damn, how can such an idiot be so arrogant?” Albert waved his hand furiously, commanding his men. Kill this fool! And remember, don’t hurt Brittany. I intend to give her the honor of my company once I’m done with her. After that, I’m heading over to TMO to take care of that Jessica. She’s known as the beauty
of New York, and I must savor her delicious flavor!”
Dozens of people closed in on Daniel. While the disciples of the Black Panther Club might not have had the fighting prowess of those from The Four Clubs, they were the cruelest when it came to brawling within all the clubs of Martial Club United. They didn’t win in the ring, but they excelled in street fighting, lacking
any sense of chivalry.
Using the Black Panther Club as a base, Justin had opened many nightlife venues and could be said to control half of New York’s nighttime economy: The Black Panther Club was the most profitable within Martial Club United, with a large portion of the union’s fees coming from it. The club was practically the
union’s treasure trove.
With Justin’s financial contribution, he ranked just below the Top 4 of The Four Clubs in Martial Club United. The Top 4 knew about Justin’s shady business, but with the union’s hefty expenses, they relied on his support, therefore turning a blind eye to his actions.
When Justin needed the union’s help, they would typically fulfill his requests, as long as they weren’t too outrageous. In this day and age, chivalry was useless–money made the man. They made more money from Justin’s nightclubs in one night than from various competitions throughout the year.
During the day, the Black Panther Club’s disciples would train and rest at the club. At night, they worked as security at Justin’s various nightclubs. Anyone causing trouble there would be lucky to leave disabled- most ended up dead, their bodies discarded as casually as dead dogs.
Nearly all the senior disciples of the Black Panther Club had blood on their hands. Killing, for them, was
as easy as crushing an ant