The Gangster Boss in a High Schooler's Body

Crocodile Tears

An hour after Darren hauled Ah Beng’s body away from the trash heap at Kallang River, dozens of Ah Beng’s crew members gathered along the embankment, their faces grim after receiving news that their boss had perished in the river.

They combed the river from upstream to downstream, diving into the murky water, ripping through piles of garbage, and searching every corner where their boss’s body might have washed ashore.

The result? Absolute zero.

No body. No tracks. Nothing at all, because Darren and Uncle Raj had made sure not a single trace was left behind. Even Ah Beng’s wallet had been carefully taken by Uncle Raj.

Marcus stood in the middle of the crowd, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt rolled up to his elbows. His face was pale, his eyes swollen and red, the result of rubbing them raw inside the car before getting out. He kept his head down, his shoulders trembling softly.

"Boss Marcus," called one of Ah Beng’s crew, a burly man named Jason. "We’ve searched all the way to the river mouth. Nothing. Boss Ah Beng’s body might have already washed out to sea."

Marcus raised his head. Tears, frighteningly convincing fake tears, streamed down his cheeks. He wiped them away with the back of his hand, putting on a show of trying to stay strong.

"That's impossible," Marcus said, his voice raspy. "Ah Beng ... Ah Beng was a tough son of a bitch. He wouldn't die that easily."

Another crew member, a young guy with a neck tattoo named Aaron, approached them. "Boss Marcus, we all tried our best. But the current is strong. If Boss Ah Beng fell off the bridge ...." He didn't finish his sentence.

Marcus covered his face with both hands, his muffled sobs echoing above the rushing water. A few crew members exchanged glances, at a loss for words. They had never seen Marcus, Ah Beng’s usually calm and calculated right-hand man, this broken.

"Boss," Jason said softly. "We're so sorry for your loss. Boss Ah Beng was like an elder brother to all of us."

Marcus lifted his face, eyes bloodshot and wet. "He was more than a brother to me. He was my best friend. We’ve been together since secondary school. The two of us built all of this from scratch. And now ...." Marcus clenched his fists. "And now he’s gone. I can't even give him a proper funeral because we can't find his body!"

Marcus’s voice cracked at the end, vibrating with flawless emotional performance. Several men bowed their heads, moved by the sight.

Aaron rested a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. "Boss Marcus, we’re all here with you. We’ll keep looking. And we’ll find whoever is responsible for this."

Marcus shook his head weakly, his eyes staring blankly at the swift river current. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the bridge's iron railing tight.

"Truth is ...." Marcus’s voice rasped, "that night, Ah Beng told me to turn back. Said there was something left behind at the deal site. I listened. I turned back to the hideout."

Marcus looked down, his shoulders shaking. "I keep thinking, what if I hadn't turned back? What if I disobeyed him? Maybe I would've known what happened. Maybe I could've saved him."

Marcus raised his head, tears spilling down his cheeks once more. "But this is all I got." Marcus pulled out his phone, his fingers trembling as he opened a video. "An anonymous text. No name. No number."

He played the video in front of his crew. On the screen, Ah Beng was shown getting beaten by a group of men dressed in black, their faces concealed by masks and headcovers. Ah Beng’s body was bloody and battered, crimson streaming down his head. Then, with coordinated precision, they lifted Ah Beng’s limp frame and hurled him into the Kallang River.

The video ended.

Silence fell. A cold wind blew past Ah Beng’s silent men. Some clenched their fists in rage, while others looked away, unable to stomach the sight.

"Bastards!" Jason shattered the quiet with a roar. "Who the hell are they?!"

Marcus shook his head. "I don't know. Their faces were all covered. No distinguishing marks. Standard black clothes, masks, hoodiness. It could be anyone."

Aaron furrowed his brow. "Boss Marcus, who has the firepower to wipe out Boss Ah Beng just like that? Boss Ah Beng was a fighter. There's no way he’d get jumped like that without putting up a fight."

Marcus wiped his tears. "That's what's driving me crazy, Aaron. Ah Beng never lost a fight. But in that video, he looked drained. Like he ran out of strength before they even jumped him."

Jason grumbled. "You think he was poisoned? Or drugged?"

"Or maybe," Aaron looked Marcus straight in the eyes, "he was betrayed by someone close to him. Someone who knew his habits, knew his weaknesses, knew his schedule."

Marcus met Aaron’s sharp glare without blinking. "Maybe. That's what we need to figure out. I’ve already sent people to track down the source of this video, but so far, it’s a dead end."

Marcus turned back toward the river, letting out a long sigh. "Whatever the case, Ah Beng is gone, and we can't bring him back. But we can track down the bastards who did this. And when we find them ...."

Marcus didn't finish his sentence, but his tone said everything. The crew nodded in unison. No further words were needed.

Among them, only Marcus knew the truth. Only he knew who was actually behind those black clothes and masks. And only he knew that the fake video had been staged by himself with the ruthless help of Victor from the Black Stallion gang to fool his own loyal crew

Marcus’s little act had played out perfectly.