Chapter 823: Gang Dilemma (Patreon)

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"Indeed, I was born here, probably more than 50 years ago? I can't remember clearly. My parents abandoned me in a trash can, and I was picked up by a dockworker working at Pier."

"My luck wasn't too bad, was it? My dad was quite capable; he could provide for me. Though he was later killed by someone, at least I managed to grow up smoothly..."

In a hospital room, a slightly overweight mob boss leaned against the wall, puffing on a cigar, reminiscing, "I see you're quite young, so you haven't experienced that era. It was truly a turbulent time; did I use the word correctly?"

"Yes, you all know I'm a newcomer, not just to this hospital but also to wielding guns and whips," Bruce said cryptically, but others chuckled and said, "Well, you're quite seasoned. Many newcomers, after getting rid of their own bosses, offend everyone here."

"I'm well aware. The more friends, the better," Bruce lit a cigar, squinted his eyes, and said, "Actually, I'm also worried about which path to take next."

"Why worry? Aren't the days good now?" Another younger Gang boss on the other side said, "Much better than ten years ago. I missed the good times back then. I got shot twice trying to claim Pier, and I still ache from it..."

"Your luck isn't too bad," the fat boss said, "When I first came to Gotham, nobody told you the rules. The whole city was a mess; it was unbearable."

"Oh, right," he continued, looking at Bruce, "Kid, did you take over after killing your elders, or did you snatch it from others?"

"I don't have any elders," Bruce shrugged, saying, "I just couldn't stand the old boss in my area. I pretended to be an out-of-town merchant, shot him, and luckily, that guy was already pretty rotten, embezzling his subordinates' wages. Everyone had put up with him for too long, and I took advantage."

The fat boss raised an eyebrow, saying, "You've got some skills, but it's for the best. You're so young; if you had killed your own father or uncle, things would get complicated."

"What do you mean?" Bruce asked.

The fat boss waved his hand, saying, "If you have a solid family foundation and enter the social circle with your father or uncle, any slight misstep will make people think you're unreliable. No one will do business with you."

Bruce furrowed his brow and said, "So, if I don't have a foundation, people will be more forgiving?"

The younger boss on the other side chimed in, "Don't you know this? If you haven't learned the rules from your elders, people will consider you a country bumpkin. Occasionally making mistakes won't matter much. I went through the same."

"But if you come from a Gang family and have learned the rules from your parents, watched them day in and day out, and still mess up, doesn't that mean you're foolish?" Bruce hadn't expected this distinction and asked.

"That's irrelevant," the younger boss lit a cigar and said, "As long as you don't commit fundamental mistakes, a couple of laughs won't hurt. After all, if you've never learned the basics after all these years, who would do business with a fool like you?"

Bruce nodded, and the fat boss said, "Speaking of which, I think of my daughter. Thank goodness she has no inclination for free love, but don't ever bring up this topic to me, and especially don't get involved with the children of wealthy merchants. Those playboys are no good..."

The fat boss took a puff of his cigar and continued, "I wanted to send her to a Catholic high school, but my wife told me she wouldn't learn anything there. She won't even know how to respond to invitations; people will mock her."

"A Catholic high school? That sounds good, especially the most famous one in the city," Bruce said.

The fat boss dismissed it with a wave of his hand, saying, "Yes, it's good, but you need to see what they teach. They teach my daughter to read the Bible, do tailoring, flower arrangement, and painting. But the problem is, she's going to marry into the Lawrence Family."

"She'll become the wife of a little Lawrence, the matriarch of the Lawrence Family. What use is she if she only knows these things? Bruce, is that your name?"

Bruce nodded and said, "Yes."

"But if you need to visit the Lawrence Family for some reason, write an invitation and drop it in their mailbox. At that moment, shouldn't you expect a reply from them?" the fat boss asked.

"Of course," Bruce replied.

"But if the lady of the house, their main mother, is an ignorant girl who doesn't know who you are or your status, how can you expect a proper response?" the fat boss exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke. "The Lawrence Family is much stronger than you. As a small player like you, if you want to visit their home, they can't afford to be too enthusiastic in their response. Otherwise, they won't be able to deal with families of the same status."

"But if they use wording that's too cold, it might be mistaken for rejection. To strike the right balance, besides the language used, you also have to consider the handwriting, the texture of the letter, and the timing of the response. If you can't handle these well, won't you offend people?"

Bruce pondered this and realized it was true. Not to mention the complex rules within the Gang, even in the upper echelons of Gotham society, there were various intricate etiquettes to follow.

Men had it slightly easier, but those wealthy ladies and young misses had countless details to consider, from the number of pearls on a necklace to the style of a hairpin.

Who wore the latest fashion, who wore outdated attire, who had received which fan as a gift, how a hat was positioned—everything had its significance. Recent engagements, childbirths, and changes within the families could all be deduced from these minute details of their daily lives.

And the reason Bruce hadn't felt the difficulty was because his disguise as Bruce Wayne was that of a playboy who couldn't care less. He could throw tantrums at parties, and no one could do anything to him. He could come to a grand mansion straight from a vigorous workout in sportswear, and the waitstaff and managers would still accommodate him with a smile.

As for invitations, he didn't even bother to read them. Alfred wouldn't bother explaining them to him either. All Alfred would say is something like, "Such and such family invites you. Decide if you want to go." If Bruce declined, Alfred wouldn't bother with the invitation's wording.

In essence, Bruce's parents, his dedicated butler, and his Bruce Wayne persona shielded him from these convoluted rules. Nobody in Gotham dared to offend him, so why should he abide by any rules?

However, at this moment, he empathized with the situation. Without Wayne Family status, without the diligent old butler, and without the Bruce Wayne façade, he would be just an ordinary businessman. To fit into Gotham's circles, he would have to put in a lot of effort.

Never mind writing invitations and RSVPs, he would have to oversee who he was gifting, what he was wearing, and even how he walked. Even if Batman had 48 hours in a day, it wouldn't be enough.

Now, Bruce understood what Schiller had been asking when he made him experience life in the slums and then questioned, "Do you really think living in the slums is harder than living in high society?"

Schiller was essentially referring to the fact that in the slums, your relatives, friends, brothers, and colleagues were your support system. In high society, all these people could become your troubles.

A slight misstep, and these people might not say anything openly, but they would surely gossip behind your back. If word got out and tarnished your reputation, it would harm your business.

For someone like Bruce, who had high intelligence but low emotional intelligence, the slums were actually an easier place to navigate. With a little adjustment, his high intelligence could help him accumulate capital in this environment, allowing him to live comfortably.

But when it came to the power struggles in high society, with all the intrigue and backstabbing, Bruce's emotional awareness and self-expression fell short. He couldn't pick up on the undercurrents and understand everyone's psychology well enough to excel.

Batman was a lunatic; the slums didn't care if you were mentally unstable. However, in high society, if your status wasn't high enough but you acted out of line, you'd never blend into their circle.

While Bruce was lost in these thoughts, the young Gang boss spoke up, "My son is only three years old this year. I plan to introduce him to his two uncles when he's five. Both of them are in the shipping business. And when he's of elementary school age, I want to enroll him in a community elementary school..."

At this point, the fat boss clicked his tongue and said, "But Doyle, for the sake of our past collaborations, let me advise you not to send him to school. It's for his own good."

Doyle, the Gang boss, looked puzzled and furrowed his brow, asking, "Why? Many people in my neighborhood send their children to school."

"That's because you insisted on buying a house in the southern district, where you're surrounded by rich businessmen. Of course, they would send their children to school. But you can't do the same."

"Why?" Doyle asked.

The fat boss shook his head and said, "Think about it. If he goes to a community school and plays with the children of those rich businessmen, do you think he can do business with them when he grows up?"

"You need to hire a private tutor for your son, preferably an Old man from the same generation as the Godfather, to teach him how to adhere to etiquette and rules. Then, let your wife take him to salons and afternoon tea gatherings to get close to his aunts. Finally, let him play with their children. That's the most dignified approach."

The fat boss sighed and said, "What's even scarier is if your child grows up with the children of those wealthy businessmen and wants to attend secondary school or even college like them. If he ends up going out of town, what then? Will your family's business be abandoned?"

"In Gotham, let alone four years, even four months would have dozens of families running their brains out when someone leaves for such a long time. When he returns, he'll be like a lamb to the slaughter, knowing nothing, doing nothing, unable to assess the situation, unfamiliar with people. How do you expect him to survive in Gotham?"

Doyle thought for a moment, then nodded and said, "You're right. I always said not to listen to Alina. She insisted that our children should go to college. From what I've seen, students coming out of Gotham University aren't much better. If we let them mingle with the Gang, they might end up losing their lives."

The fat boss waved the hand holding his cigar and said, "I've been telling you since your wedding that you didn't choose the right spouse. Your wife is a Cambridge graduate and a brilliant scholar. Her calligraphy alone couldn't find a second in the Twelve Families."

"But marrying an outsider, all she does is cry out to educate and educate every day, study, study..."

"But you should also see where this is. You read all those books, but when you come back, you don't even know how to hold a gun. In the end, all you can do is embrace your books and meet God."

[Read at www.patreon.com/shanefreak, and thanks for the invaluable support!]

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 824: Gang Dilemma (Part 2)