Chapter 834: Red Hood (Part 2) (Patreon)

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The children of the Red Hood Gang, carrying various packages and dragging various boxes, departed from this place along the street corner.

Fortunately, the wasteland behind the warehouse had not been included in the redevelopment area. There was still a small patch of forest at the edge, where they could make do for the night.

As soon as they reached the wasteland next to the forest, Jason saw another group of children approaching this place. The recently settled children of the Red Hood Gang immediately became alert. The two biggest children among them drew their guns, and the opposite group also appeared somewhat surprised.

"Jason? Are you guys here too? Were you also kicked out?" One tall African-American boy walked forward, speaking with surprise rather than mockery. "Aren't the Red Hood Gang the most formidable children's gang on that street?"

His tone lacked mockery and only held surprise. In front of them, this children's gang had only about a dozen members, a relatively small number, and they all appeared somewhat frail, belonging to the lower tier of children's gangs.

"John, you guys got kicked out too?" Jason approached and said, "If I'm not mistaken, your Birch Gang over there must have been driven out as well. They used to have two motorcycles."

John, the African-American boy, nodded. "Correct, we were all expelled. It seems there's some kind of resettlement project going on."

He shook his head and continued, "We got the slots, but the gang members don't want us to stay. They can rent out the empty houses for high rent and make money without doing anything."

Jason glanced at the children behind him and then said to John, "Come over here. We plan to set up tents here. If we stick together, our self-preservation abilities will be stronger."

John didn't say much. His gang was weak to begin with, and now being able to join forces with Jason was considered lucky. After all, everyone knew that Jason was the smartest child leader around.

While the other children went to set up tents, Jason pulled John and Six-Fingered Sister aside and went outside the forest. Jason looked around and said, "This won't work. We'll definitely die out here."

Before John could respond, Jason continued, "This is just the first phase of the project. The second phase may cover most of the East District, and the third phase might complete the transformation of both East District and the Pier area. Where will we go then?"

"The security in the South District and West District won't let us in. Not to mention the North District, where all the Gang leaders are. So where can we go? The sea?"

"And the younger children need a stable life. They get hungry quickly. If we don't have a stable base, we can't work. If we don't work, they won't eat, and they'll starve. If they starve, we'll become even weaker."

"But what else can we do?" John raised his voice. "The Gang won't let us go back. Every extra person going back means taking up one more room, and that means they lose forty to fifty US dollars in rent per month. That's a lot of money."

Jason took a deep breath and said, "There's another way."

"What way?" Six-Fingered Sister asked, seemingly having a premonition.

Jason turned his head to look at the children who were setting up tents. Though sadness was evident on their faces, they weren't hopeless. They had experienced similar situations many times before.

The Red Hood Gang didn't originate in this neighborhood. Jason took over and brought them here. Their previous gang on that street was extremely brutal, and Jason had done everything he could to lead them out.

The street they had settled in later was too impoverished to find any work, and they couldn't support their gang members. It was only after several twists and turns that they ended up here, becoming one of the top children's gangs in just a year.

They felt a deep sense of sadness, but there was still hope as long as Jason was with them, leading them to find a new home.

However, Jason knew they wouldn't find a new home.

The news in the newspapers had made it clear to all the gangs that fewer people in their neighborhood meant more empty rooms and more rent.

Jason felt fear because he realized someone had made this rule, and he found that it was actually undermining the foundations of the gangs.

The fewer the people, the more resources each one could get. Would they unite? Would they ensure fairness for everyone? No, they wouldn't. They wanted more and knew that having fewer people here was the way to achieve that.

They wouldn't realize that without children's gangs, they would lose fresh blood. Without lower-tier members, their power would weaken. Without middle-tier members, their finances could become problematic, and without top-tier members, their gang structure would fall apart.

They only thought about having one less person meaning one more room and one more source of income. If they owned all the houses themselves, they could move to the wealthy area soon.

Jason realized that someone had stabbed the gangs, but they had also been given a sedative. They only saw luxurious houses, convenient transportation, rising rents, and appreciating property values.

They didn't see that the people they had expelled were their future.

But Jason saw all of this. He understood that the humiliations and exploitation of the past could be endured, but in today's situation, there was no room for compromise.

Capital would devour anyone who went with the flow, kicking them out of the land they were born on, taking away their homes, their property, and everything.

And those who had it all wouldn't feel shame. They wouldn't pity anyone. They would simply believe that it was all their due.

It seemed like they could still wander, still set off to find a new home, but in reality, they had nowhere to go, and there was no way back.

The gangs here would drive them out, occupy more houses, and gangs elsewhere would do the same. Eventually, the streets would be taken over by vendors to make money, the houses would be rented out by the gangs, the jobs would go to those with stable residences, and the food would go to the wealthy.

They would lose everything, and who could they blame?

By then, they could only blame themselves for not having money, jobs, or houses. They could blame themselves for not trying hard enough, for not being talented enough.

People who hadn't read those books, who didn't understand the reason, would only repeat these words and head towards their graves.

But Jason didn't accept this fate, and he didn't want these children to accept it either.

But now, it was too late for them to pursue education, and they didn't have the luxury for it anymore. Or, as Jason remembered what Schiller had once told him, education through experience was never too late.

"What exactly are you planning?" Six-Fingered Sister asked. "Don't do anything foolish. My injury, it was caused by Gang members from the street my boyfriend's in. He abandoned me, and I don't want to rely on him..."

"Yes, we shouldn't rely on anyone," Jason's tone grew colder. He looked at John and Six-Fingered Sister and said, "What we want, we should take for ourselves."

As night fell, the starry sky grew deeper. Gotham, exceptionally, didn't have rain today. It was as though the storms from the past few days had carried away the rain clouds, or perhaps it was leaving a tranquil backdrop for the cries of some vulnerable souls.

On the rooftop of a low building, a Gang leader in a suit and leather shoes was reading a newspaper. He took a puff from his cigar and said, "Those kids are gone, right? How many of them were there?"

"Twenty-six in total, boss. That's twenty-six rooms we've got."

The Gang leader chuckled and said, "Thanks to those little brats, who've been sucking our blood for so long. They finally scrammed and left us with quite a reward."

"Look at how popular Living Hell is right now. Houses in a place like this won't have any trouble getting rented. When the time comes, 10 US dollars will be the minimum. I've already talked to the big boss from the street to the west. We're going to raise the rent together, and the third street won't be left behind..."

Gang members quickly flattered him. They were just a small Gang, with only a dozen or so members, earning a few hundred US dollars a month. But after the transformation, they could potentially earn over a thousand US dollars from rent alone. Maybe their salaries would increase as well.

"By the way," the Gang leader waved his finger, "since we'll have rental income in the future, we won't need that line leading to the Pier anymore. Repairing cars is like throwing money into a bottomless pit. Why bother?"

"Who's in charge of that line? Tell them to scram, but I'll take half of their salary and distribute it among you..."

"Also, I heard that the security in Living Hell is jointly managed by the big Gangs. In that case, cut the number of those four guys who were guarding us in half..."

Members in the room glanced at each other and nodded in agreement. "Indeed, I heard that the small Gangs in Living Hell don't need so many people. Fewer people mean fewer troubles..."

As he finished speaking, a commotion could be heard downstairs. The Gang leader's expression turned serious, and a few members rushed out to see what was happening.

Soon, the room was empty except for the Gang leader. At that moment, a noise came from the balcony, and the Gang leader cautiously took out his handgun. However, the one who had arrived was Six-Fingered Sister.

"Don't shoot! Boss, I need to talk to you!" Six-Fingered Sister appeared extremely anxious. "Something happened to the Gang next door, and I came to deliver a message. It's urgent!"

Seeing a young girl with bandages on her arm, someone he had encountered on the street, likely a member of the children's gang here, the Gang leader's alertness relaxed a bit. He asked, "What happened? Why did you rush over here?"

Six-Fingered Sister looked around cautiously and lowered her voice, saying, "When we left this street today, we happened to pass by the territory of the Gang next door. We overheard someone from their finance department talking about changes in the resettlement houses..."

The Gang leader immediately furrowed his brows. "Changes? What kind of changes?"

But at this moment, Six-Fingered Sister hesitated and said, "Boss, you kicked us out, and we have nowhere to stay. The young children are going hungry. We urgently need some money..."

The Gang leader snorted and said, "You want to negotiate with me? You brats have been leeching off us for so long, and we've only just let you go. We've been more than generous!"

"I know you all fantasize about having your own house, but let me tell you, you're dreaming in broad daylight. All the houses here belong to me. Starve to death, freeze to death? Who cares about you! It would be better if you died sooner, annoying brats!"

Six-Fingered Sister's expression grew colder as she said, "We worked for you for over a year, passed countless messages to you. If it weren't for Jason, could you have secured that line leading to the Pier?"

"Jason?" The Gang leader sat back in his chair, mocking. He loaded his handgun and said, "That kid thinks he's so clever, but hasn't he been kicked out too? Does he really believe he can become someone important and live in a big house? Dream on!"

"You bunch of bottom-feeders will never have a house, always hungry, always struggling. That's the only way to keep you from causing trouble. If we let you eat and live comfortably, how could I continue doing what I do?"

Six-Fingered Sister stared at him in silence, and this surprised the Gang leader a bit. He realized that the young girl in front of him, looking into his eyes, was like someone looking at a dead man.

Just as the Gang leader was about to stand up, he felt a shadow fall over him from behind, and a rope crossed his face, tightly gripping his neck.

In the shadows appeared Jason, his expression cold.

His face was calm, not a word spoken, but his hand gripping the Umbrella strap had visible bulging veins.

Gang leader kept scratching at his neck, kicking his legs, waving his limbs, but soon his eyeballs bulged out, his tongue stuck out, and his chest gradually stopped heaving. Six-Fingered Sister covered her mouth with her hand.

Jason held onto the Umbrella strap tightly, never once thinking about letting go. In this moment, the passing of life failed to move him, and he bore the weight of the crime of killing for the first time, forever losing his innocence.

As his fingers slightly loosened, the Umbrella strap fell to the ground, its buckle hitting the floor with a crisp sound, deafening in its intensity.

With a loud rumble, the night rain finally arrived in Gotham. In a modest building, a seemingly inconspicuous window illuminated a red hood, just like Gotham's sunset.

"Why do you wear this hood?" Six-Fingered Sister asked.

And Jason's answer, transmitted through the glass, pierced through Gotham's rainy night like the late arrival of spring thunder.

"Because I like the color of the hood."

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

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 835: Children's Struggles (Part 1)