The Gangster Boss in a High Schooler's Body

The Enemy at the Gate

Darren frowned, dialing the number that had sent him the message. It went straight to a dead end.

"Bro, are you the leader of the White Tiger Gang?"

"What's with the face, kid? You look like you've seen a ghost. And I'm the only ghost around here." Ah Beng floated closer, peering over Darren’s shoulder. "What’s that? Did someone send a text?"

Darren didn't answer. His mind was racing. Someone knew. Someone had seen them pull Ah Beng’s body out of the river. Someone knew Ah Beng’s identity and was threatening to expose everything.

"Darren. Show me the phone!" Ah Beng commanded, his tone dead serious.

Darren tilted the screen toward the floating spirit. Ah Beng scanned the message, and his expression instantly darkened. The jovial gang boss was gone, replaced by the ruthless leader who had once ruled the streets of Geylang.

"Black Stallion Gang," Ah Beng muttered. "Victor."

"Victor? Who's that?"

"Leader of the Black Stallion Gang. My arch-nemesis. We've been at war for years over territory. But this text didn't come from Victor."

Darren knitted his brows. "How do you know?"

"Because Victor is a snake, a traitor, a coward who gets others to do his dirty work. But he isn't stupid. If Victor knew I was still breathing, he wouldn't send a text. He'd send his hitmen to finish the job. Quietly. Without warning."

Ah Beng floated in circles, lost in thought. "This text came from someone else. Someone who knows about both Victor and me. But who?"

"Could it be someone from your own gang? Someone who recognized your body at the hospital?"

Ah Beng shook his head. "My crew thinks I'm dead. They combed the river and found nothing. As far as they're concerned, my body washed out to sea. The only people who know I'm alive are you, your driver, and the hospital staff."

"The hospital staff," Darren repeated. "Maybe one of them blabbed."

"Maybe. Or maybe someone spotted us at the river that night."

Darren groaned. "Great. So we've got an anonymous stalker who knows everything and wants to blackmail us. What do they want? Money?"

"Read the text again," Ah Beng said. "They didn't ask for a single thing. They're just making threats. That means they're waiting. They want to see what your next move is."

Darren sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at his phone. It was way past midnight, but sleep was out of the question. Ah Beng hovered by the window, gazing out at the distant city lights of Bukit Timah.

"Kid," Ah Beng said without turning around.

"Yeah?"

"When I was alive, I made a ton of enemies. That's the price of being a gang boss. But I also made plenty of allies. People who owe me favors. People who’d jump at the chance to help if I asked."

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm saying we have options. We can figure out who sent this text. But we have to play it smart. If we move too fast, we might panic them. Move too slow, and they might strike first."

Darren gave a slow nod. "So what's the first move?"

"First, secure my body. Beef up security at the hospital. Hire more nurses. Hell, get personal bodyguards. If someone tries to pull my plug while I'm in a coma, I can't exactly stop them."

Darren quickly typed out a text to the private nursing agency, requesting round-the-clock security. He also fired off a message to his father’s secretary, asking for the contact details of a reputable private security firm. Money talked. Within minutes, he received confirmation that two bodyguards would be stationed outside Ah Beng’s room first thing in the morning.

"Done," Darren said. "What's next?"

"Second, we find out who sent this text. Can you trace the number?"

"It's blocked. No caller ID. But I can ask someone. A hacker. He's a senior at my school, a tech genius. He owes me one."

Ah Beng raised an eyebrow. "You have a hacker friend? You're full of surprises, kid."

"He's not exactly a friend. More like someone I helped out once. He was getting bullied too. I covered the tuition for his coding bootcamp. He told me he'd back me up whenever I needed a favor."

"See? You've got way more going for you than I thought," Ah Beng said, a smirk of admiration spreading across his face. "You've been building alliances without even realizing it. That's real leadership right there."

Darren offered a faint smile. "I'm no leader, Bro. I'm just a kid who's sick of getting pushed around."

"Not yet. But you're gonna be a badass. Once I finish teaching you my martial arts, you'll be the toughest kid in Singapore."

--

Black Stallion Headquarters

The Black Stallion Gang operated out of an old, dilapidated building in the industrial heart of Jurong, far removed from the bustling city center of Singapore. The converted warehouse served as their primary base of operations, heavily guarded by armed enforcers. Inside lay a massive room outfitted with wooden tables, territory maps pinned to the walls, and flickering neon lights.

Victor sat in a large wooden chair at the far end of the room, staring intently at a map of Geylang. His frame was broad and imposing, marked by a prominent scar on his left arm that served as his badge of honor in the underworld. Standing before him, Leon—his right-hand man—fidgeted nervously, tapping his fingers against the tabletop.

"Boss," Leon began hesitantly, "I need to talk to you about Marcus."

Victor looked up. "What about him?"

"Marcus can't be trusted, Boss. He turned on his own brother—Ah Beng, the man who raised him, fed him, and trusted him as his second-in-command. If he can stab Ah Beng in the back, what's stopping him from doing the same to us? We're his sworn enemies. His rivals."

Victor didn't reply right away. He leaned back in his chair, fixing Leon with an unreadable gaze. Leon was right. Marcus was a traitor. And traitors were inherently dangerous—not because they were strong, but because they lacked loyalty.

"I know," Victor said quietly. "I've already thought about it."

Leon pressed on. "Marcus could easily turn on us once the dust settles. He could claim the White Tiger Gang's turf for himself and come after us next. We can't trust a word he says, Boss."

Victor nodded slowly. He rose from his chair and walked over to the map on the wall. His eyes traced the territorial boundaries that had been the battleground between the White Tiger Gang and the Black Stallion Gang for years. Not once had he ever managed to bring Ah Beng down.

Yet now, Ah Beng was gone. And it had all happened in a single night.

Victor could hardly believe it. It still felt like a surreal dream. Ah Beng—the man famous for being invincible, the man who made the entire district of Geylang tremble at the mere mention of his name—had fallen. Not in a massive gang war, not in open combat, but through a cheap betrayal by his own right hand.

"Leon," Victor called without turning around.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Was Ah Beng's body really never found?"

Leon let out a sigh. "According to reliable intel, Boss, the White Tiger Gang conducted a massive search along the Kallang River. They combed the river from upstream to downstream, dived to the bottom, and even checked the estuary. But they came up completely empty-handed. No body."

Victor turned around, his eyes narrowing at Leon. "Empty-handed?"

"That's right, Boss. Nothing."

Victor fell silent. Something was gnawing at him. A nagging feeling he couldn't quite shake. He had seen the video clip Marcus sent as proof. In that footage, Ah Beng was clearly thrown into the river bloody and battered. His body was limp. Blood was streaming from his head. By all rights, he should be dead.

Yet if there was no body, where was he now?

"Maybe it washed out to sea," Leon suggested, reading Victor's mind. "The current in the Kallang River is pretty strong. In a few hours, the body could've been swept miles away."

Victor gave a subtle nod, but doubt still lingered in his mind. "Maybe," he said. "Or maybe... he's still alive."

Leon's eyes widened. "Alive? Boss, that's impossible. The video clearly showed Ah Beng getting pulverized. He lost a ton of blood. There's no way he survived that."

"I know what I saw in that video," Victor said firmly. "But I also know Ah Beng. He's like a cockroach. Hard to kill. I spent years trying to put him in the ground and failed every single time. Now he just dies out of nowhere because of a betrayal? It's too easy."

Leon went quiet. He didn't dare argue, but he wasn't entirely convinced either. Victor was paranoid. And whenever Victor got paranoid, there was usually a good reason for it.

"Boss," Leon said carefully, "do you want me to send guys to dig deeper? To double-check if Ah Beng is truly dead?"

Victor stared at Leon for a long moment before nodding. "Yeah. Send your most trusted men. Find out if any hospitals admitted an unidentified patient over the last couple of days. Check the small clinics around Kallang, too. If Ah Beng is still alive, he's going to need medical attention."

"Got it, Boss."

Victor returned to his seat, but his mind remained uneasy. He stared at the map on the wall, then lowered his head, resting his clasped hands on the table.

"Ah Beng, you really are a cockroach. But this time, I'm going to make sure you're dead for good. Before you ever get the chance to crawl back up."

**

A sprawling mansion in the Bedok area. A young man leaned back against the living room sofa, holding his phone in one hand and a cold can of soda in the other. This was Bryan Lim—the high school gang leader who frequently bullied Darren.

His phone vibrated. Leon’s name flashed across the screen.

"Bro Leon, what's up?"

"Bryan, I've got a job for you."

"What kind of job?"

"Scrape some info on Ah Beng, the head of the White Tiger Gang. His name probably won't pop up in the system, but if any unidentified patient got checked into a hospital over the last two days, I want to know about it."

Bryan sat up straight. "That's not really my area, Bro."

"Isn't your dad a chief surgeon at Mount Elizabeth? Just tell him you need the data for a research project. You can easily access the system."

Bryan paused for a few seconds. "What's this for?"

"Victor wants to be a hundred percent sure the guy is dead."

Bryan let out a faint smirk. He set his drink down on the table and stood up.

"Consider it done, Bro."

The call disconnected. Bryan grumbled under his breath, these errands from his superiors were always a hassle. But he had no choice. He wanted to be a real player in the underworld and finally surpass Damian, his father's legitimate son who had always looked down on him.