The Gangster Boss in a High Schooler's Body

Ah Beng was the undisputed king of Geylang’s grimier backalleys. His name wasn’t just whispered in fear through the crowded hawker centres or dim lorongs, it was a curse etched into the flesh and bones of every small-time thug bold enough to strut across his turf.

His frame was broad, mapped with spiralling dragon ink from his collarbone to his wrists, and a jagged blade-scar across his left cheek forced anyone facing him to cast their eyes down.

Ah Beng wasn’t the sort of boss to sit pretty in an air-conditioned office counting cash. He was out on the pavement, running every deal himself, and above all, he was always seething.

Rage was his native tongue. To his boys, Ah Beng never spoke, he barked. One minor slip, and plastic stools would fly or tables would flip. Nobody dared hold his gaze for more than three seconds, except for one guy: Marcus.

Marcus and Ah Beng had been tight since secondary school. Raised on the same asphalt, equally starved, equally desperate for power.

Yet as the years rolled on, Ah Beng climbed to the top while Marcus stayed firmly second-rate. Marcus was the enforcer who executed every order without a word. But inside his chest, an ember of resentment burned hot, and Ah Beng was too blind to see it.

The root of Ah Beng’s ruin began at a small cafe tucked along Joo Chiat Road. Her name was Chloe. She worked the register, possessing long flowing hair and a smile capable of melting the hardest street thug.

Ah Beng was hooked from the moment he laid eyes on her, a strange turn of events for a man who cared only for money and muscle. He started showing up constantly, sitting in the corner, ordering black coffee just to stare at Chloe.

Marcus had eyes for Chloe too. On the quiet, he’d been texting her, buying her meals. But when push came to shove, she picked Ah Beng without hesitation. The big boss offered safety, or so she believed.

Marcus’s hatred didn’t ignite all at once. He gathered it slowly, like poison dripped drop by drop into a glass.

Every time Ah Beng chewed him out in front of Chloe, every time he was treated like a waiter sending for coffee, every time Ah Beng laughed at his ideas and called him a 'blabbermouth', Marcus just nodded, his fists clenched deep in his jacket pockets.

The boiling point hit three weeks before that fateful night. During a sit-down in a vacant flatted factory, Ah Beng flew off the handle because a methamphetamine shipment was four hours late.

Instead of cooling off, Ah Beng hurled a glass bottle right at Marcus. It missed, shattering against the wall, but flying shards cut deep into Marcus’s forearm, drawing blood.

"You said you had this covered, Marcus! You useless waste of space! You’re better off sweeping floors at the wet market!" Ah Beng roared, his face flushed red.

That was the exact moment the ember in Marcus’s chest flared into a blaze. He saw Chloe, who was present at the meeting, trembling in terror as she stared at Ah Beng with horror.

Yet Marcus felt completely humiliated before the woman he loved. Once the meeting wrapped, Marcus didn’t head home. He headed straight to the turf of Ah Beng’s fiercest rival, the Black Stallion gang, led by a cunning operator named Victor.

"You’re looking to drop your own boss? The Tiger of Geylang that the whole east side fears?" Victor asked with a sly grin.

Marcus gave a sharp nod. "He’s gone too far. I know the route for next week’s major drop. The quiet access road near the Kallang River bridge. It’s deserted, no CCTVs. You guys jump him till he’s dead, and I’ll make sure his bodyguards aren’t around."

"Hey, Marcus! Even if my whole crew jumps him, Ah Beng won't go down easy. You playing games? Trying to set up my boys?" Victor prodded, suspicious.

"Before we move out, I can spike his coffee with a paralyzing powder." Marcus said, his resolve blazing.

A deal was struck. Victor would claim a quarter of Ah Beng’s territory once he was dead, and Chloe would naturally fall into Marcus’s arms.

The night of the exchange arrived. Rain poured heavily, falling like a thick sheet of water that choked all visibility. Ah Beng drove his black sedan with Marcus in the passenger seat, while two escort vehicles trailed behind.

Ah Beng was eyeing a duffel bag crammed with meth and a new synthetic drug, his eyes gleaming with greed. Unbeknownst to him, Marcus had already slipped their location coordinates via his phone beneath the seat.

"You know, Marcus," Ah Beng said as he lit a cigarette, "once this drop clears, I’m proposing to Chloe. Time a boss like me got a pretty wife. You agree, right?"

Marcus forced a thin smile that never reached his eyes. "Yeah, Boss. You deserve the best."

The moment the car took a dark bend alongside the Kallang River, an articulated lorry pulled across the lane, cutting them off. Ah Beng slammed on the brakes.

"What the hell is this?" Ah Beng growled.

Before he could step out, over a dozen men armed with batons and parangs surged from behind the truck. They set upon the escort vehicles behind, smashing glass and dragging his boys out one by one.

Ah Beng was baffled—how could tonight’s secret schedule leak out? He reached for the pistol under his seat, but Marcus moved faster. Marcus snapped open a pocketknife and plunged it into Ah Beng’s gun hand. The firearm slipped and slid under the chair.

"Marcus! What the fuck are you doing?!" Ah Beng roared, stunned and wracked with pain as blood spurted from his hand.

Without him realizing, the tasteless paralyzing powder Marcus had dissolved into his coffee cup before setting off was kicking in, leeching the strength from his heavy muscles.

Calmly, Marcus unlatched the door and stepped out. He walked toward Victor and shook his hand in the pouring rain, leaving Ah Beng trapped inside.

Ah Beng tried to scramble out from the driver’s side, but two thugs instantly grabbed him, hauling him out onto the wet asphalt.

In the torrential downpour, the half-paralyzed Ah Beng was beaten senseless. The first baton strike cracked against his temple, sending his vision spinning. The second hit his ribs with a sickening crunch.

Ah Beng tried to fight back, but his body was dead weight. He could only snarl and curse, blood mixing with rainwater as it poured down his forehead into his eyes.

Amid the relentless strikes and kicks, Ah Beng forced his head up to see Marcus standing over him, shielding his own head with a black umbrella. Marcus looked utterly unbothered, as if watching a show.

"Why, Marcus?" Ah Beng rasped, gasping for air. "What did I lack? We were brothers!"

Marcus let out a quiet chuckle, bending down close to Ah Beng’s battered face.

"Brothers? All this time, you treated me like a dog, Beng! You yelled at me in front of Chloe, you threw a bottle at my head. And worst of all, you took the girl I loved just because you’re the boss."

"I ... I didn't know you liked her," Ah Beng whispered in despair.

"Now you do. But it's too late," Marcus replied coldly. He motioned to two thugs to hoist Ah Beng’s helpless body up.

They dragged him to the edge of the bridge. Down below, the Kallang River surged, its murky brown water churning white foam against the concrete pillars. The current was vicious, strong enough to pull anyone under in seconds.

Ah Beng tried to thrash, but his energy was gone. The broken ribs turned every movement into a bolt of lightning through his nerves.

"Safe travels, Boss," Marcus said. Then, with a swing, Ah Beng was hurled over the railing.

His body went into freefall. The chill night air caught him for a fraction of a second before he hit the river surface, hard as concrete. Violent agony shot through every nerve as the ice-cold, filthy water swallowed him whole.

Ah Beng tried to kick toward the surface, but the brutal current yanked him down. His leg snagged on submerged roots at the riverbed, trapping him deeper.

His lungs were burning. Ah Beng opened his mouth to scream, but river water instantly flooded his mouth and nasal passages.

Darkness. Everything turned black. In the final seconds of his consciousness, he could only make out the faint silhouette of Marcus still standing on the bridge, staring down with a blank face, right before Ah Beng’s mind went entirely dark, swallowed by the unforgiving rush of the Kallang River.