The Phantom Groom System

Chapter 8: Give Me Ninety-Five Out of a Hundred

"Hold up!"

Lenny waved the martial artist off.

He studied Danny quietly for a second, then burst out laughing.

"Well, aren't you a bold one, ha ha ha!"

"C'mon, Danny, sit down, have a seat!"

Lenny gestured to a chair and poured him a cup of tea.

"Here's the thing, Danny." He leaned in. "When Vince was around, I gave him twenty a month to handle a few things I couldn't move through official channels."

"But now that you're running Blackwood Alley, twenty's obviously not gonna cut it."

"My gambling den pulls in decent money, sure, but overhead's high, I've got a whole chain of people to keep sweet."

"Since you're saying twenty's not enough, I'll tighten my own belt and throw in another twenty. Call it forty even. Deal?"

Danny pushed the teacup aside, tapped the table once, and smiled. "You're a careful man, Lenny. But I've got a habit you should know about."

"I don't like dead weight."

Lenny's smile froze and slid off his face.

"You want a cut of the actual profits."

Danny nodded.

Lenny picked his tea back up, sipped it slowly. "You've got quite an appetite."

He set the cup down and studied Danny for a long moment.

This kid's a worse headache than Vince ever was.

Fine. Let's get this over with.

He nodded. "Deal. I'll give you ten percent of monthly profit, call it seventy dollars."

Squint and Gimpy exchanged a look, eyes wide.

Seventy dollars a month? They'd never seen that kind of money in their lives. A good month scrounging the streets brought in maybe seventy cents.

Even with that number on the table, Danny didn't so much as blink.

"Seven hundred dollars in monthly profit. Quite the operation you're running here, Lenny."

Lenny heard the sigh and figured he'd landed the deal. "Ha, hard-earned money, all of it. The real profits go to the people above me."

"I work myself to the bone keeping this place afloat, and the big shots upstairs skim seventy percent off the top without lifting a finger."

Danny nodded, then said, casual as anything, "Lenny."

"Six hundred fifty a month. Starting now."

"Keep the other fifty to run the place. Anything left over at month's end, that comes to me too."

The room went dead silent.

Lenny's eyes went wide, sure he'd misheard. "Danny... you mean, six hundred and fifty?"

Danny smiled. "That's right."

Lenny laughed. Shook his head. Stood up, and said flatly to the martial artist behind him, "Big Joe. Beat him half to death and toss him out."

He'd dealt with greedy men before. Never one who opened with a ninety-five percent cut and expected it handed over, no negotiation.

Big Joe cracked his knuckles and stepped forward, smirking.

"Kid, you think killing Vince makes you somebody?"

He strolled over and dropped a hand on Danny's shoulder, ready to yank him up

...huh?

Danny hadn't moved an inch. Big Joe froze for a beat, confused.

Danny's expression didn't shift. He simply picked up the tea in front of him and handed it off to Gimpy standing nearby, who took it on pure reflex, not understanding what was happening.

In the next instant, Danny slammed Big Joe's head straight down onto the table.

Whoa that fast?

Big Joe blinked, then scrambled to push himself back up.

"Ngh"

Face flushing red with effort, he strained with everything he had.

His head didn't budge an inch off the table.

Danny held him down with one hand, fingers tightening bit by bit. The pressure alone sent waves of stinging pain through Big Joe's skull.

How is this possible?

Where does this kind of strength come from?

Big Joe understood the gap between them now. He was sixth-stage Body Tempering, trained at the Ironwood School, a solid frame by any measure.

If Danny could pin him down one-handed like this, the kid had to be eighth or ninth stage at minimum.

So why is a fighter at that level rotting away in a dump like Blackwood Alley?

Desperate, Big Joe shifted his weight and shoved down with everything he had.

CRACK.

The mahogany table shattered under the strain.

Big Joe was still stuck. His knees hit the floor, upper body dangling awkwardly, and Danny's hand never let go of his skull.

Creak... creak...

A strange grinding sound, Big Joe's own skull, straining under the pressure.

He had no doubt: a little more force, and his head would cave in.

"Stop! Stop, please!"

"Danny, I was wrong! I didn't know who I was dealing with, I'm sorry, please, spare me!"

His face twisted with pure terror as he begged.

Danny didn't react. Didn't even glance at him, just kept his eyes locked on Lenny across the room.

Lenny had never imagined his most trusted enforcer could be handled like a baby chick. He sat frozen, stunned, until Big Joe's pleading finally snapped him back to his senses.

"Danny! I agree!"

"Ninety-five percent! Starting next month!"

Danny nodded slightly but didn't let go. "Not next month. Starting today. Paid daily."

"Fine, fine!"

Lenny didn't dare argue. Big Joe, his best fighter, had nearly had his skull crushed like an eggshell in front of him. The man was clearly no match for whatever Danny actually was; Danny could snap his neck with one slap if he felt like it.

Danny nodded and finally released Big Joe.

The man who'd swaggered in moments earlier collapsed to his knees, gasping for air, then crawled a safe distance away before staggering upright.

A minute later, Lenny personally handed over a money pouch.

"Danny. Today's cut. Thirty dollars."

Danny tilted his head. "Lenny. Just today's?"

Lenny blinked, confused. Didn't he just agree to daily payments?

"We're already ten days into the month. Shouldn't you be making up the difference?"

Lenny's mouth fell open, a curse dying somewhere in his throat.

You just walked in here today!

But given the circumstances, he turned without a word and dug up a heavier cloth sack.

"Danny, I already sent a payment to the people above me three days ago. This is everything I've got left."

Danny opened the sack. Loose silver, strings of coins, all mixed together.

Lenny added quickly, "That's a hundred fifty-six dollars total. Give me a few days and I'll make up the rest."

"A grace period?" Danny chuckled. "Man your size, think you could sell yourself for a hundred dollars in a few days?"

"Or maybe you've got a daughter who could earn it for you?"

The very words Lenny had used on the old man moments earlier, now turned right back on him.

Lenny's face went crimson, embarrassment curdling fast into anger, before it clicked exactly what Danny meant.

He spun around, snatched the IOU out of the old man's hands, and held it out to Danny.

"Danny, what do you think about"

Danny sneered and tore the contract to pieces.

He let the matter of Lenny's shortfall drop and stood to leave.

"Have the rest ready by tomorrow."

The old man in debt didn't need to be told twice, he grabbed his daughter and bolted out the door before anyone changed their mind.

Only Lenny was left, standing there with a face like a thundercloud.

"Boss. We just gonna eat this?" Big Joe rubbed the back of his head, tone bitter, though fear still lingered behind his eyes.

"Eat it, my ass!" Lenny took a breath and turned to him. "Get back to Young Master Yates. Tell him someone just cut off his cash flow."

"We've been handing him half our take out of this place. Time he actually earned it."

Big Joe opened his mouth, then nodded.

With Young Master Yates already at the External Force level, handling one troublesome kid shouldn't be a problem at all.