Chapter 114: Chapter 113: Surprise, Part 2

"Isn’t that right, Tom!"

Hearing Frank call his name, Tom quickly sat up. "That’s right, Feng, the American Government is the most shameless government there is, bar none."

"There’s a popular saying that all American presidents in history have been shameless. You can’t become president if you have any shame, and the most shameless one is always the current one."

Frank was very satisfied with Tom’s cooperation and magnanimously crossed Tom’s name off the little black list in his mind.

"Are you listening? This is why I suggest you become the Sheriff of Crown Territory and Kivalina. You need a reputation. Sometimes, a reputation is like a prostitute’s bikini—you can tear it off whenever you want. But other times, it’ll be your strongest shield, protecting you from all kinds of malice."

"The Far North Tundra Region is an autonomous region designated by the state of Alaska. Many of the Indigenous towns, communities, and villages there haven’t established any security agencies. As long as you can win the support of the Indigenous People, any power that wants to move against you will have to think twice. That’s why I’m backing you."

"I get it!" Feng Mountain nodded, his expression grave. His brow was furrowed, but his eyes betrayed a deep-seated frustration.

Frank clapped a hand on Feng Mountain’s shoulder, flashing a benevolent, almost grandmotherly smile.

"Don’t worry, I’ll help you. I’ll take care of everything. You just focus on enjoying life."

Just then.

The chatty young man from his hometown walked over to the booth with their food, calling out as he approached.

"Order’s up!"

"Hey, man. This is authentic Chinese food, not that stuff they make to fool the foreigners. I personally watched Lao Liu while he cooked it." The chatty young man winked at Feng Mountain.

Frank picked up his chopsticks and said impassively, "Friend, I understand Mandarin. Get Lin over here to give me an explanation."

Ah!

The chatty young man’s smile instantly soured into a grimace, his mind reeling as if trampled by a thousand horses.

’How come all these foreigners know some Chinese nowadays? It’s getting so you can’t even bad-mouth someone unless you’re sure they’re not listening.’

"He’s just kidding. You can go," Feng Mountain said with a laugh, defusing the situation and dismissing the young man.

"Hmm, it really does taste different." Frank picked up a slice of fish, chewed it thoughtfully, and nodded. He turned to look at Tom, who was scowling fiercely, battling a piece of squid with a chopstick in each hand. "You know, you can use a fork. Otherwise, people are going to think you’re planning to rob the place."

"Fack, whoever invented chopsticks should go to Hell," Tom muttered, grabbing his fork.

Halfway through the meal, Lin, the restaurant’s owner, showed up. He had a beer with the three of them, sent over a complimentary dish, and then hauled the chatty young man away.

As dinner was winding down.

A phone rang. Frank answered it, and his expression turned strange. He got up and left, not returning for quite some time.

He stared at Feng Mountain with a questioning look, holding his gaze until Feng Mountain started to feel unnerved. Finally, he asked.

"When did you get involved with the Indians from the Yukon Region?"

’Indians from the Yukon Region?’

Feng Mountain looked completely baffled. The only Indian he knew was Nash.

"Not Nash. The Wild Bull Tribe from the Yukon River District." Seeing Feng Mountain’s expression, Frank understood that he truly was in the dark. He picked up his glass from the table and took a large gulp. "Vergil Villa was blown up by a group of Indigenous People from the Wild Bull Tribe. My friend at the FBI says it wasn’t just the Wild Bull Tribe at the scene; it seems there was another power involved."

Upon hearing that Vergil had been eliminated.

Tom’s face went deathly pale. When he looked at Feng Mountain now, the old familiarity was gone, replaced by the sense that he was looking at a complete and extremely dangerous stranger.

’Even though Vergil was hiding out in Polaris Town, he had some serious backing. He had connections to several gangs in Anchorage; I even ran some deliveries for him a few times.’

’But now? Just because he threatened Feng Mountain a little, he gets taken out.’

’And how long has it been? Not even four hours from start to finish.’

Feng Mountain, for his part, was completely bewildered.

’I didn’t do anything. Or rather, I hadn’t even had a chance to do anything yet.’

’And that fat bastard just croaked!’

"As long as you’re not involved, it’s fine. Come on, I’ll take you to see your final gift." Frank set down his glass, grabbed his coat, and walked out of the restaurant. Then, as if remembering something, he stopped and turned back.

"Tom’s paying for this meal. Consider it payment for your bail."

Hearing this, Tom wasn’t the least bit angry. In fact, he cheerfully pulled out his wallet and headed for the register.

’As long as Frank wasn’t angry, he’d willingly pay for ten meals like this.’

...

After dinner, night fell on Fairbanks.

A blast of cold wind hit them as they stepped out of the restaurant.

In the cold mist, the streetlights seemed to blur, casting an illusory veil over the entire city.

Looking up, the sky was filled with countless stars, their brilliant light seeming to answer the glow of the streetlights below.

The three of them got into their own cars, tires crunching on the packed snow as they pulled out of the restaurant’s parking lot.

The cars had not gone far when the chatty young man rushed out of the restaurant after them. Seeing their distant taillights, he shook his head in disappointment.

The houses on both sides of the street stood silently in the night. Outside the car windows, the cold wind howled, whipping up flurries of snow from the roadside.

Frank drove for several blocks before turning onto a quiet, secluded street. It was lined with detached, two-story wooden houses. Compared to the poor neighborhood they had passed through on the way to the assembly that day, this street was much cleaner.

The car stopped at the curb.

"We’re here. Get out." Frank pushed his door open and gestured for Feng Mountain to follow, also signaling for Tom, who was behind them, to join.

The three of them walked up to one of the houses, where Frank felt along the top of the doorframe and retrieved a key.

When he opened the door, a thick cloud of smoke billowed out, as if the house were on fire.

"On second thought, we’d better wait a moment," Frank said, a corner of his mouth twitching in embarrassment.

After a moment, the smoke dissipated.

The three of them stepped inside, passing through an entryway into a living room.

Four or five people, both men and women, were sitting in the living room, all quietly watching TV. On the coffee table, an ashtray overflowed with cigarette butts that had spilled out onto the surface.

’Who are they??’

Feng Mountain realized that ever since he’d arrived in Fairbanks and met up with Frank, things had become completely unpredictable. ’I feel like a puppet being pulled every which way,’ he thought. It was an awful feeling.

CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!

With a resigned look, Frank walked in front of the television and clapped his hands.

Only then did the group look up.

"Thank God your boss is here. You can all get going now. The landlord has already called me several times. And aren’t you worried about getting lung cancer?" Frank said, pointing to Feng Mountain, who was standing off to the side.

The group turned in unison to look at Feng Mountain.

Feng Mountain’s brow furrowed. He had no idea what game Frank was playing, but where on earth had he dredged up this motley crew?

’There’s a bookish-looking guy with glasses, so skinny he’s just skin and bones; a strong gust of wind would probably blow him away.’

’A young man in a military uniform looks normal enough, but there’s something off about his impossibly sharp collar and cuffs that just looks awkward.’

’A girl with a full sleeve of tattoos that creep up her neck, and a piercing at the corner of her mouth.’

’One woman looks relatively normal, but a scar runs across her pretty face from between her eyebrows down to the corner of her mouth, marring her beauty.’

’And the last girl looks like a frightened animal, curled up on the sofa and keeping her head down, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.’

’Wait a minute!!’

’What did Frank just say?’

’Their boss is here?’

’Who’s the boss? Tom?’

Feng Mountain turned to look at the utterly confused Tom, who had a hapless expression and looked nothing like a boss. That left only one possibility.

’The boss Frank was talking about... must be me.’

’Son of a bitch!!’

’You’ve got to be kidding me.’

"Frank, I need an explanation!"

"Buddy, come over here!" Frank beckoned to Feng Mountain and then lowered his voice.

"Didn’t you tell me last time to do nine good deeds? Well, I founded Frank’s Home for Wanderers and found some people in very sorry situations. I figured a suitable environment would be good for them, and for you. For example, the Crown Territory."

"Jenny Cecil. Yes, that’s her." Frank pointed to the woman with the scar.

"Thirty years old. She used to be a two-star Michelin chef. Her husband was an alcoholic who beat her every time he got drunk. The scar on her face is from when he cut her with a knife. In the end, Jenny stabbed her husband with a dinner knife and fled their terrifying home, eventually ending up wandering the streets of Fairbanks."

"Yves Kingsley, twenty-seven. Served eight years with the Rangers. After his discharge, he suffered from war-related PTSD, which led to a divorce. He’s been homeless ever since."

"David Steel, nineteen. University of Alaska. He suffers from anorexia and was abused by his parents, so he ran away from home."

"Erica Grace, twenty-four. She was sexually assaulted by a family member and sold to a prostitution ring. Social services rescued her and put her in a shelter, but she later ended up on the streets of Fairbanks."

"Tammy Lucas, twenty. Also abused by her family and sent to a shelter. I’m the one who took her in."

...