🌞Chapter 8🌻

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"I found you, bastard! Think I'd let you get away with that?" Gulf yelled. When he had finally found the bar, Mew was sitting there just as he'd hoped.

He stormed inside, itching to start a fight. The group of girls hovering around Mew took one look at Gulf and fled. Gulf lunged at Mew, who deftly dodged away.

Huh?

Gulf looked down at his arm, which had again been stopped in midair. He had forgotten all about last night. His desire to punch Mew's lights out was not entirely due to alcohol.

"Pretty popular with the ladies, eh?" he sneered. "No surprise, I guess. You are rich, young, and handsome."

He was trying to distract Mew, but the man calmly nooded.

"Thanks. Take a seat, Gulf."

Mew looked like a millionaire. Feeling the man'a fierce sexual energy, Gulf crashed down on the stool next to him. He leaned back with his arms crossed, spread his legs wide, and glowered at Mew.

"You know what happened yesterday," he growled. "How are you gonna fix things?"

"Fix things?" Mew echoed.

"You burned my note," Gulf hissed. "The six million. That was as good as money. You'd better fucking pay it back, with some interest added for my time."

Making threats. Raising issues over the amount. Getting aggresive. This was how the Yakuza operated.

But Mew's reply was amazingly calm. "No."

"WHAT?" Gulf howled.

"No. It was dishonored. It was totally worthless. It can't be used or considered as money," Mew said firmly, perfectly clear about where he stood on the matter.

It infuriated Gulf that Mew wasn't the least bit intimidated by him. So he lost it.

"Hey, pretty boy! Outside, now!" he jeered, kicking over a table and lunging at the man's neck again.

Mew easily evaded him, then grabbed his tie and pulled him closer.

"Let's talk about this reasonably, Gulf," he gently cooed.

Gulf noticed a sadistic glint in Mew's eyes---and choked. Who the hell was this guy?

"Ba--bastard!" he yelled.

He knew every gang around here. But he'd never seen Mew among then. The man looked honest, but he was definitely not an ordinary guy.

Mew pushed Gulf away and pointed to quiet area.

"Let's talk back there," he said. "Then we won't disturb the other customers."

"If you insist," Gulf muttered, trying to be look tough.

Mew stood up. Gulf shivered a little, remembering how tough Mew had been during competition.

They settled down in the back of the room. After a hostess brought them drinks and snacks, they were left looking at each other. Gulf got right down to business.

"Pay up," he growled.

"Why?" Mew said coolly.

He looked like he was enjoying himself, and poured some sake into Gulf's glass.

"Don't give me this shit," Gulf said. "Pay up now!"

"If you need money, then sell your car." Mew suggested. "A Benz S-Class should fetch a decent price."

How does he know what I drive?

Gulf raised an eyebrow. When did he start talking to him last night? He had been too drunk to remember. He decided to tell the truth, hoping to get Mew's sympathy.

"It's not mine," he admitted.

"Huh?"

"My gang's dirt poor," Gulf explained further. "It's not my car. I'm borrowing it. If I sold it, God knows what would happen to me."

"Huh? Not in a good financial position then?" Mew said.

"Shut up," Gulf snapped.

He was getting tired of this game. Mew could care less that he was a Yakuza.

Gulf sulked and lit a cigarette. Mew's eyes oozed sexual attraction. Gulf was even more irritated that the other man was using that power on him.

"Gulf," Mew said.

"Yeah?"

Mew moved closer to Gulf, who instantly froze. Suddenly Mew touched his thigh.

"Do you like being a Yakuza, even though nobody cares anymore?" Mew asked.

Gulf gasped and quickly moved away.

What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

But secretly, he understood. Gulf himself was more interested in men's legs, too.

Suddenly he knew why this guy botheres him so much. If he played it up now, maybe Mew wouldn't laugh it off so easily.

He let out a creepy laugh. "It's fun. Beating up another person, arguing, the intense moments. So exciting. Your head goes blank, and the ecstasy is almost as good as an orgasm."

He really wanted a good showdown now.

Mew must have sensed it, but he didn't flinch and spoke calmy. "Yes, I know what you mean. When you glare at me like that, I feel little shivers, too. How can I get a man like you to have me?"

Gulf didn't undestand him for a minute.

"Huh?" he croaked.

But when he grasped what Mew was saying he went ballistic. How dare he mock him! Gulf glared at Mew, his bambi eyes gleaming with pure hatred.

"Stop mocking me!" he yelled. "Just pay me. I need ten million! It's all your fault for burning the note!"

He didn't expect screaming would do any good.

Mew just shrugged his shoulders, a habit he must have picked up from dealing with foreigners. "But you said it had been dishonored," he said. "You couldn't get any money from it. We'll have to settle in court. I can recommend a good lawyer."

Mew knew what he was talking about. But for good or for bad, extracting money was a Yakuza's job. They couldn't let themselves be talked down.

"You'd better take responsibility!" Gulf insisted. "If I can't get the money out of that old man you'll have to pay!"

"I said no," Mew said.

"Bullshit! If I tell you to pay, then you damn well better pay. I need ten million by tomorrow," Gulf screamed.

"Why do you need money that bad?" Mew asked.

"Shut up," Gulf said.

"I just have to get it, somehow."

"Somehow?" Mew's eyes sparkled. He smiled like a little kid about to pull a prank.

Now Gulf grabbed Mew's tie and pulled tight. This time he would make things crystal clear.

"Come with me," he said. "You did this and you're gonna end it. I'll make sure of that."

"Good," Mew agreed almost gleefully. "Let's go."

He still wasn't perturbed in the least. Even after Gulf decided that they would go to Rachan's together.

🐼TBC⚽

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