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The job from the president regarded a delinquent promissory note.
Gulf drove down to the bank alongside the backstreet factory in a Benz S-Class. Though he had no money, he still wore a fine Italian-made suit, so people would instantly recognize him as a Yakuza.
He got out of the car and put a cigarette between his lips. First again offered a light. Taking a puff, Gulf surveyed the factory.
Hmph.
He was in a foul mood. He never thought he'd have to come back here like this. His vision clouded by tobacco smoke, he looked around feeling a little sick inside.
I've just gotta forget it.
It was just an old car factory near a residential neighborhood. There was nothing special about it.
He strode towards the building looking cocky. When he got to the fence, he saw a big crowd of men.
"Outta the way!" he growled, stubbing his cigarette out with his shoe.
Just like what the Dead Sea had done for Moses, the crowd parted to let him through. They might have also been debt-collecting thugs, but Gulf was a real Yakuza, a step-up from them. He kicked open the door and stepped inside.
The factory was spacious, but he didn't see any employees. He looked around, hoping to spot something of value.
"Argh!" he suddenly cried out as freezing cold water splashed over his head. Getting soaked to the skin on a chilly October day was more than a little unpleasant.
"GET OUT!" yelled an old man in a uniform.
Gulf squinted at him. He didn't expect to see him here.
It's you.
"I'm gonna get you!" First snarled, lunging at the old man.
"First, stop!" Gulf commanded.
First instantly did as told.
"We're not here to pick fights," Gulf warned. "He'll go to the police and make trouble. Then we won't get what we came here for."
He pushed back his wet hair. Water dripped drom the edge of his sleeve.
"Are you Mr. Rachan?" he asked, not making eye contact. He had avoided this place for such a long time. What would Rachan do when he realized that Gulf was Yakuza? But Rachan was less cooperative than expected.
"Get out!" the old man howled.
That scream was his only reaction. Gulf's mouth twisted. The only one here who cared that Gulf was Yakuza was Gulf himself. As far as Rachan was concerned, Yakuza were on the same level as dog shit.
No matter. That would just make it easier for Gulf.
He snorted and glared at Rachan.
"Stop messing around. Let's be adult about this," he ordered, folding his arms across his drenched suit.
Rachan picked up the bucket and started refilling it with water.
"Hey, wait!" Gulf pleaded.
Rachan threw the bucket at him again.
This time the water felt even colder.
TBC
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Sleeping With Money (MewGulf AU)
RomanceCOMPLETED Down on his luck, Yakuza member Gulf Kanawut needs to cough up eight million in two days---or else! His last hope is a loan from wealthy businessman Mew Suppasit. But Mew is using the debt for his own nefarious scheme---to have a tied-up G...
