“It’s not like I’m a regular, but if you mention my name, Little Ray, at this shop, you can get a 20% discount,” Ray Jones said. “...Whenever the boss can’t get past a level in a mobile game, I’m the one who helps him clear it.”

Now, whenever Ethan Young hears about mobile games, he can’t help but think of those dress-up games... This Ray Jones, who claims there isn’t a single game on the market he wouldn’t dare to play, probably has never even touched that genre.

The two of them chatted idly. The smell of oil and smoke drifted out from the kitchen window, along with the sound of the gas stove igniting. After about ten minutes, the boss brought out two plates of rice with toppings: “Two house specials, enjoy!”

The boss served the food and went back to the kitchen, where two young guys in aprons were still working.

Ethan Young had just touched the edge of his bowl and hadn’t even picked up his chopsticks when, as the boss opened the kitchen door, he vaguely heard those two talking: “Guangmao? I heard... yeah... there’s going to be a fight...”

The two were chatting when the kitchen door was suddenly pushed open, and they saw the boy who had been sitting by the window now standing at the door, face cold, asking, “A fight over what?”

The two were stunned for a moment, then answered, “Oh, a fight... Over at Guangmao, some people are causing trouble, a whole group, might be a fight.”

Ray Jones had just taken a couple of bites when he was yanked by the collar by the already somewhat agitated Boss Young and dragged outside. Once out of the shop, he was still a bit dazed: “What’s going on? Is there shit in the food?”

“What did Aunt May just say to you?” Ethan Young didn’t let go, pulling him as he asked, “What exactly did she say?”

If you turn right down this street and walk a little further, you’ll reach Guangmao.

Ray Jones also realized something was off and recalled, “I just said I had something come up and might be back late? That’s it.”

Thinking about it now, comrade Yvonne Shaw’s tone was way too gentle. In the past, if a delivery was half an hour late, she could curse nonstop for half an hour without repeating herself. But today, not only did she not express any anger at her precious time being wasted, she was actually so calm.

Ethan Young let go: “Let’s go.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s go check it out.”

“...”

Henry Howard followed the route planned by his phone’s navigation, transferring buses twice before finally arriving in an area that looked just like the photos someone had posted in their Moments. As soon as he got off, he found the potholes in the street made it hard to even walk.

Henry Howard had a good chat with the old man next to him on the way. After getting off, the old man even wanted to invite him to his house.

“No, thanks,” Henry Howard was surprised by the warmth of the people here and declined, “I still have something to do.”

The old man tried again: “What’s so urgent? Just come in for a glass of water.”

Henry Howard smiled: “I’m looking for someone, a very important person.”

Henry Howard couldn’t say if he was acting on impulse. Ever since he got that text this morning, he’d managed to stop himself from running laps, but he couldn’t stop himself from coming here to look for someone.

He wanted to see him.

Really wanted to.

But after circling the area a few times, Henry Howard realized he couldn’t find the place. He didn’t even remember the name of his friend from the station, let alone where his house was.

When Ethan Young got the call from Henry Howard, he was still at the entrance of Guangmao. Their group was facing off against another group of fierce-looking guys, the atmosphere tense and ready to explode.

Before Henry Howard could say anything, Ethan Young, holding a stick, said, “I’m busy right now. Talk after I finish fighting.”

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57. Chapter Fifty-Seven

, fastest update of the latest chapter of “Disguised School Scum”!

“...”

“You’re really going to fight?”

Ethan Young gave a careless “mm” and took two steps forward, tapping the stick on the ground, dragging it along the concrete with a scraping sound as he walked.

Ray Jones, who wasn’t ready to fight at all: “...”

Ethan Young was especially good at provoking people. Of all the fights Ray Jones had been in since childhood, if this guy wasn’t there, eighty percent of them wouldn’t have even happened.

Every time Ethan Young stood in a smoky, tense scene like this, sometimes he didn’t even need to say a word—just one look at the other side was enough to make them feel, deep down: Oh, so you want to fight? You look down on me, don’t you! You think I can’t beat you!

Thinking of this, Ray Jones reached out and tugged at Ethan Young: “Boss Young, you... at least let me find something handy to use.”

Ethan Young handed over the stick in his hand, not caring since he could just fight barehanded: “Now you have one.”

“...”

Ethan Young was too conspicuous. The group facing them couldn’t hold back either. Noticing that one of the boys in the Guangmao group looked like he was about to make a move, someone started shouting, “Fine, let’s settle this today, May. We usually respect you as the big sister of this area, but don’t let it go to your head—”

“Fuck your mother, what’s the point of talking to them,” the leader flicked his cigarette ash, swaggering as he walked, “We’re here today to smash up Guangmao!”

Hearing this, all of Henry Howard’s thoughts about “giving the kid a surprise when I see him, damn, I’m the model boyfriend, when I make my grand entrance he’ll be so touched, then we’ll hold hands and stroll around romantically” instantly vanished.

Henry Howard squatted at a strange street corner, staring at the uneven rows of residential buildings, and noticed the words “Guangmao”.

He thought, this kid’s life of fighting and chaos is really something.

Ethan Young hung up the phone, walked to the front, and asked in a low voice, “Who are these people, what do they do?... This batch of thugs is really useless.”

After listening for a while, Ethan Young realized this group talked a lot of crap but didn’t say anything useful. He still didn’t know why they’d gathered here to make trouble. He’d been patient, hoping they’d say something new, but all they did was curse each other’s ancestors over and over, repeating the same dirty words.

“Just a bunch of scum, so annoying, from North Street. I really fucking...” Yvonne Shaw had just finished a cigarette, her voice still hoarse. She almost let out another curse, but stopped herself halfway, turning to glare at Ethan Young, “What, I should be asking what you’re doing here! Little Ray, hurry up and drag him back.”

Ray Jones stood by and blurted out, “Can’t move him.”

Yvonne Shaw: “...”

To put it simply, a few days ago Yvonne Shaw had some shipments to unload, but Guangmao didn’t have enough people, so she told the manager to find some extra hands. The manager, trying to save money, took a cut of the referral fee and brought in these shady guys.

When the unloading was done and they counted the goods, the numbers didn’t add up.

Before they could even confront them, these guys came over to make a scene, refusing to leave the building, claiming they were being wronged and slandered, and even trying to extort some “emotional damages”.

It sounded ridiculous.

But things like this happened almost every day in this area.

With low education levels and chaotic security, many people dropped out of school and preferred to hang around the streets, making friends with “like-minded” people. There were all sorts of little gangs—not enough to be a real threat, but enough to create a mess of different factions.

Working a regular job? Never in their lives.

And they thought they were so cool, living the gangster life.

Yvonne Shaw had been holding out so long because she didn’t really want to get into a real fight. Maybe it was age—she’d gotten softer, thinking it’s better to let things go when possible. She’d hoped to scare them off, but this bunch just wouldn’t back down until they hit a wall.

While Ethan Young wasn’t looking, Yvonne Shaw secretly tossed away the last bit of her cigarette she’d been reluctant to throw out, stood up, and said, “Fuck it, I can’t take it anymore.”

“Trying to scam me,” Yvonne Shaw added, “and emotional damages? Medical bills I might consider.”

Ethan Young: “Fight.”

Ray Jones: “A good beating will make them behave.”

People passing by all stopped to watch, but the local residents looked on with cold indifference. After all, if you wanted to see this kind of thing, you could see it any day. No one called the police—around here, street matters were settled by the street.

Yvonne Shaw said, “You two, stop talking nonsense and get back inside!”

The other side had more than a dozen people, and their group was about the same.

The two sides had been stalling for almost half an hour. Ethan Young flexed his wrists, ready to just get it over with, when suddenly the noise from the crowd around them rose a notch.