The Gangster Boss in a High Schooler's Body

A Cold Golden Cage

A private hospital in South Singapore. A VIP room on the seventh floor boasting a dazzling view of the city skyline. Air-conditioned, with a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall.

Darren sat on the leather sofa beside Ah Beng’s comatose body, surrounded by blinking monitors.

"A VIP room," Ah Beng muttered, floating near the ceiling as he took in his surroundings with disbelief. "V—I—P. I’m finally living it up in a VIP hospital room!" he cheered.

"Keep it down, Bro. Bragging about a hospital room, really? Most people pray to stay out of these places. You’re built weird, aren't you?" Darren grumbled.

Darren had requested the VIP room solely because Ah Beng demanded it. This gang boss’s ghost was ridiculously high-maintenance.

From asking for extra blankets when a spirit couldn't even feel the cold, to demanding the TV channel be changed when he couldn't touch the remote, all the way to asking for food bought when he couldn't eat a single bite.

Yet Darren didn't mind. Money was never an issue for him. The real challenge was convincing the nurse, who kept giving him strange looks every time Darren caught himself talking to thin air.

"Hey there," the pretty nurse said with a professional smile, "the patient needs his rest, and so do you. Those bruises on your stomach look pretty serious."

"I’m fine, Nurse," Darren replied.

Ah Beng hovered right next to the nurse. "Hey Nurse, introduce yourself, will you? You're really pretty." Ah Beng tried to lay on the charm, but his arm drifted straight through her shoulder.

"Bro, shut up!" Darren whispered under his breath.

The nurse blinked in confusion. "Who are you talking to?"

"Oh, nobody, Nurse. Just saying a prayer for my friend here who's in a coma."

"Alright then. I’ll leave you to it. Just hit the call button if you need anything, okay?" The nurse stepped out of the room.

Ah Beng kept staring at the door. "Man, she’s gorgeous. Go ask for her phone number!"

"Drop it, Bro. Focus! You're a ghost and you're still acting like a flirt!" Darren grumbled.

Ah Beng ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

--

After one days of observation, Darren was discharged. The bruises across his abdomen were still purplish-blue, but they didn't hurt anymore.

Ah Beng remained in a coma. The doctors couldn't give a straight answer on when he’d wake up—could be tomorrow, next week, next month, or maybe never.

But Darren refused to give up. He hired a private nurse to watch over Ah Beng at the hospital. Money? He had plenty of it. That was one of the perks of being the son of a tycoon.

"Remember, Darren," Ah Beng said before they left the hospital, "keep an eye on my body. Don't let anything happen to it."

"Got it, Bro. Come on, let's head home. Uncle Rajj is already waiting."

Darren walked out of the hospital with Ah Beng drifting lazily beside him. Rajj was already waiting by the entrance with a sleek black luxury sedan.

"Glad to see you back on your feet, Young Master Darren," Rajj greeted, opening the passenger door.

"Thanks, Uncle. Let's go home."

The car glided through the streets of Singapore. Ah Beng floated in the back seat, staring out the window with a bored expression.

"Hey kid, where's your place anyway? Which neighborhood?"

"Bukit Timah, Bro."

"Bukit Timah? Woah, swanky. I used to stay around Geylang. My place was huge too, but it wasn't ...." Ah Beng trailed off as the car pulled into a gated, ultra-exclusive neighborhood. Massive houses lined the private road, framed by iron gates and manicured lawns. And the car came to a stop in front of the grandest mansion on the estate.

Three stories high. A swimming pool on the side visible from the main gate. A garage with room for ten cars. A sweeping garden complete with palm trees and a grand fountain. The place looked more like a five-star hotel than a family home.

Ah Beng’s jaw dropped.

"k—Kid ... this is your house?!"

Darren gave a casual nod. "Yeah, Bro. This is it."

"Man, my place doesn't even come close!" Ah Beng zipped forward, swooping around the property in a blur. "This is three times the size of my house! You've got a pool! A garden! You even got ...." He paused, staring at the statue near the entrance. "A horse statue?!"

Darren let out a soft laugh. "Yeah. Dad likes horses."

"You really are loaded, Darren!" Ah Beng was still trying to wrap his head around it. "I thought you were just regular rich. But this ... this is top-tier tycoon territory!"

"Yeah, Bro. But my parents are super busy. They’re always overseas. They rarely ever come home." Darren’s face looked plain yet gloomy.

Ah Beng floated inside the house. The interior was pure luxury, featuring a spiral staircase with hand-carved wooden banisters. Truly opulent with modern and sleek furniture, yet completely silent.

Ah Beng turned to look at Darren. "They leave you all by yourself here all the time?" Darren pointed to a family portrait.

Darren merely shrugged. "Yeah. Always busy, claiming it's all for my future, so I'm just supposed to suck it up."

Ah Beng went quiet. This time, he didn't see Darren as a spoiled rich kid, but as a deeply lonely boy. A house this huge, yet not a single soul truly cared for him. No wonder he got bullied at school. There was no one around to stand up for him.

"Kid," Ah Beng said.

"Yeah, Bro?"

"You're tough."

Darren looked over, caught off guard. "What?"

"You're tough. Living all alone in a massive place like this, without your parents. Getting beaten up at school, only to come home to an empty house. Sorry for thinking you were just a whiny wimp."

Darren offered a faint smile. "I'm used to it, Bro."

"Nobody should ever have to get used to that."

Rajj appeared from the kitchen holding a glass of juice.

"Young Master, here's your juice. I made it from ...." He cut himself off when he noticed Darren staring intensely into thin air—right toward Ah Beng. "Young Master, who are you talking to?"

Darren looked at Ah Beng, then at Rajj. He let out a sigh. It was time to come clean.

"Uncle," Darren said, his voice dead serious, "I need to tell you something."

"What is it, Young Master?"

Darren pointed to the empty space beside him. "There's a ghost standing right here. It's the soul of the guy lying in a coma at the hospital. He's right beside me now."

Rajj's eyes went wide. He stared at the spot Darren pointed to. Nothing. Just empty air.

"Young Master Darren, you're pulling my leg, right?"

"I'm not, Uncle. His name is Ah Beng. He's a gang boss, the guy whose body we found at the Kallang River."

Rajj swallowed hard. "Young Master, this isn't funny. Young Master Darren, please stop joking around."

"Uncle Rajj, I'm dead serious. He's right here. He's waving at you right now."

Ah Beng was indeed waving enthusiastically at Rajj, looking thoroughly annoyed that he couldn't be seen. "Hey, Driver! Yeah, I'm a ghost! I'm real!"

Rajj couldn't see a thing. But he looked at Darren—the young master who had always been meek and obedient—speaking with absolute conviction.

"Uncle Rajj," Darren said, "I'm not lying. All of this is real. And this spirit ... he's going to help me. He's going to teach me martial arts."

Rajj took a step back. Then another. And another. All the color drained from his face.

"M—Merciful God, Young Master Darren is possessed!" Rajj shrieked.

"Uncle, calm down."

"I'm out of here, Young Master!" Rajj spun around and bolted.

Not toward the front exit, but straight for the back, toward the small annex behind the house where he lived. Rajj sprinted across the garden, tripping over a potted plant, nearly tumbling into the swimming pool, before disappearing behind the annex door.

Slam! The door shut tight.

Darren let out a heavy sigh while Ah Beng burst into uncontrollable laughter beside him.

"Look at that! Your driver ran off like he just saw a real ghost!"

"Bro, this is serious! Who's going to drive me around everywhere if Uncle Rajj goes on strike?!"

Ah Beng was still cackling. "Relax, he'll be back tomorrow. The guy's loyal, just terrified of ghosts. I'll show him later that I'm friendly and handsome."

"Friendly? Handsome? With a scary mug like that, you dare call yourself handsome? Ugh!" Darren mocked.

"Hey, I am friendly and handsome! I'm a gang boss, not a cold-blooded psycho!"

Darren shook his head. He sank into the massive sofa in the living room, staring up at the high ceiling adorned with the crystal chandelier. The house was luxurious, but completely devoid of warmth.

Darren's phone buzzed, and an anonymous message popped up on the screen.

'I know you took someone out of the Kallang River. He's the boss of the White Tiger Gang, right? But do you know what? If I open my mouth even once, both the Black Stallion Gang and the White Tiger Gang will come after you!'

Darren froze, staring at the anonymous text on his phone.