The Phantom Groom System

Chapter 7: Ways to Make Money

Danny, self-proclaimed master fighter, bent down and started rifling through the corpses.

Sure, some part of him wanted to walk away clean, no trace, disappear into the night after a kill. But survival didn't leave much room for style points.

Spirit herbs cost money. Unlocking equipment slots cost money. Looting the two dead Kessler men was the fastest option on the table.

Luckily, these two had been carrying a lot more than Vince ever had. By the time he finished, Danny's take topped a hundred silver coins. Add what he'd already pulled off Vince, and the total came to one hundred and twenty-three.

He hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and dumped the full hundred straight into the equipment system.

【Second slot unlocked. Spend 1,000 silver to unlock the third slot?】

Danny shook his head immediately, like he could somehow conjure another thousand coins out of thin air.

By all logic, his top priority right now should've been sinking every coin into rare spirit herbs to buy himself more time. But tonight's fight had changed his calculus.

He'd sabotaged Kessler's plans and killed two of their late-stage Body Tempering fighters in the same night. That kind of grudge didn't just go away.

Once Kessler regrouped, there was no telling what kind of muscle they'd send after him. The Iron Bone Method meant he barely had a rival within the Body Tempering realm anymore.

But what if Kessler sent someone who'd already broken through to External Force?

Full completion of Body Tempering meant your meridians finally ran clear. And once the meridians opened all the way, a fighter's full strength could move through his body as naturally as swinging an arm, that was External Force. A fighter at that stage could channel every ounce of their power into a single strike, a punch worth a thousand pounds of force, easy.

Danny wasn't there yet. Not close.

With a second slot open, though, he could equip the bone knife again, not just for the strength bump, but for the way it let him read an opponent's weak points mid-fight. With that edge, he might actually stand a chance against an External Force fighter.

"You need a hand with this?"

By the time Danny stood up, Squint and Gimpy had finished disposing of Vince's body and made their way back. As if their night hadn't been rough enough already, now there were two more corpses waiting for them.

Both of them shook their heads frantically.

"Nah, forget it, Danny, you've been up all night, go get some rest. We've got this."

"Trust us, we'll have it cleaned up before sunrise. Go on, rest."

Danny blinked, then nodded slowly.

It hadn't even been half a day since he'd landed in this body, and he hadn't had a single quiet moment. He was, admittedly, exhausted.

Kessler wouldn't be able to mobilize anything fast enough to matter tonight. This spot was still safe for now.

He headed back to the house, gave Gloria a nod, and dropped onto the mattress fully dressed.

He slept straight through until morning.

When he woke, Gloria already had breakfast laid out, and Squint and Gimpy were outside washing up, their work finished.

"Eat," Danny called, and the three of them settled in together.

He picked up a chopstick of pickled r****h, washed it down with rice porridge, and asked Gloria between bites, "Where did Vince pull in the most money around Blackwood Alley?"

She set down her bowl quickly, thought it over, and said, "Every household in the alley pays tribute, a few cents at minimum, up to a dollar or so a month."

Seeing that didn't move him, she added, "Doesn't sound like much, but added up across the whole block, it comes to maybe ten dollars a month."

Danny shook his head. "I don't have that kind of time."

Gloria paused, glanced at the marks still visible on his wrists, and thought harder.

"If you want fast money, there's the gambling house up north. Vince used to say the man who runs it, Lenny Vance, paid him twenty a month, sometimes thirty, if business was good."

Danny's brow furrowed. "That's it? Nothing bigger?"

Underworld money moved fast by nature, surely a whole alley couldn't run on just one gambling den.

Then it clicked.

Any illegal racket needed people with money to spend. And the folks scraping by in Blackwood Alley barely had enough to eat, let alone extra cash lying around.

Gambling was different. Get a man's blood up, and he'd throw his last dollar on the table without thinking twice.

That settled it.

Danny put down his bowl. "You two finished?"

Squint and Gimpy hurriedly swallowed their last mouthfuls and stood, Squint not forgetting to pocket a roll for later.

Danny got up and led them straight toward the gambling house.

Once they'd gone, Gloria sat alone at the table, staring at the leftover dishes, something turning behind her eyes.

Blackwood Alley wasn't large. In under fifteen minutes, Danny and the others reached the place.

The gambling house was a modest two-story building, walls weathered and patchy on the outside, but solidly built underneath. Whoever put it up had clearly known what they were doing.

Inside, it was a different world entirely. Polished blue tile floors, tables buffed to a shine. The walls were hung with paintings of women in various states of undress, including a few that made Gimpy's jaw drop.

"Hold it. You here to play? Counter's that way, get your chips first."

Before they'd gotten far, a big man blocked their path.

Danny shook his head. "I'm here for Lenny Vance."

The man's eyebrows twitched.

Everyone who came through here called him Boss Vance. Someone who dropped his name straight up was either a fool who didn't know better, or someone with real weight behind him.

Looking the group over, Squint and Gimpy screamed "fool." But the one leading them, calm, level, no hint of arrogance or fear, carried himself like someone who mattered.

The bouncer hesitated, scratching the back of his head.

Danny added, "Vince is dead. Blackwood Alley answers to me now."

The man's expression shifted instantly.

Just days ago, he'd heard Boss Vance grumbling about how lucky Vince had gotten, landing a spot with Kessler. And now the man was dead?

Kessler wasn't scaring this guy off. Did that mean he had Razor Society backing?

"Please, wait right here, sir. I'll go announce you."

He rushed upstairs. Not long after, he came back down.

"Boss Vance says come on up."

He led the three of them up the stairs. The moment they reached the second floor, a shrill scream cut through the air.

"Dad! I'm still your daughter, how could you do this to me?!"

"Sweetheart! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I've failed you!"

"Dad, do you remember what Mom said before she left"

"I'll, I'll beg Boss Vance again, I swear, I'll beg him AAH!!"

Danny stepped into the private room.

A big-headed, gold-toothed man drove his foot into an old man kneeling in front of him, sending him sprawling.

"Old man Carter! What's there left to beg about?"

"You owe this house twenty-three dollars. You think crying's gonna turn into cash?"

The old man clutched his face, crawled forward, and kept bowing his head to the floor.

"Boss Vance! Please, just a few more days, I'll pay every cent, I swear it"

Lenny Vance let out a sharp, humorless laugh, grabbed the old man by the hair, and snarled.

"What kind of work pays off twenty-three dollars in a few days, huh?"

"You worthless piece of garbage! Can't even hold a candle to your own daughter. Young as she is, she could earn that in a few nights flat, no trouble at all!"

"And besides, look at this contract! When you borrowed the money, you signed off that if you couldn't pay, your daughter covers the debt!"

He slapped the paper down on the old man's head, stood, took a sip of water, and turned to Danny.

"And you, sir, what's your name?"

"Danny Reyes."

Lenny nodded, showing no fear whatsoever at the name of the man who'd apparently gone to war with Kessler. He waved a hand, and someone brought over a small bag of coins.

"Danny, here's twenty dollars. Consider it your monthly cut, same as I gave Vince."

Danny didn't take it. He just shook his head. "Not enough."

Lenny's brow furrowed, and behind him, a broad-shouldered man stepped forward, the kind of build and presence that made it obvious at a glance.

A martial artist.