Chapter 73: The Mighty Gym Grand Opening
Ever since the last comprehensive planning session for the Iron Fist Club's next phase of aggressive expansion, Chris had focused intensely on the construction and launch of his gym business.
With Mayor West's full political support and connections, all necessary permits, licenses, and legal qualifications were expedited and processed within a single business day.
Only the specific site selection and acquisition proved somewhat more complicated and time-consuming.
West had originally finalized one primary location, but due to Chris's revised strategic plans for the Iron Fist Club's statewide expansion, West's initially chosen site was no longer sufficient or appropriate.
After extensive discussion and negotiation, Chris made the bold decision to open multiple gym locations simultaneously, to proactively avoid concerns about having too many gang members and insufficient training space as the organization rapidly expanded.
The final result was ambitious and expensive: Chris withdrew all his accumulated dividend payments, combined them with the factory's available liquid capital, and directly opened twenty gyms strategically positioned throughout Rhode Island.
With West's political influence and connections, a fully equipped gym facility could be established for only half a million dollars per location—even including the commercial real estate acquisition costs.
To facilitate this aggressive expansion, West had even specifically petitioned the state government to launch a week-long "anti-gang operation," conveniently clearing out and seizing several criminal gang strongholds in targeted neighborhoods—which just happened to be exactly where Chris wanted to build his gyms.
Even with this accelerated timeline and political support, by the time Chris's flagship gym location was finally completed and ready for business, it was already the last day of April.
Taking advantage of the weekend, Chris brought several of his closest subordinates and his entire family to the flagship gym for the official ribbon-cutting grand opening ceremony.
Originally, Chris hadn't even considered making this a family event. But after Meg had purchased a used Honda Civic with her dividend money—and Peter had suspiciously wondered aloud where Meg had gotten that kind of cash—Chris realized with some amusement that his family genuinely had no idea what kind of business empire he'd been building.
Of course, so far only Peter remained completely clueless. Lois and Brian both had some vague understanding of Chris's ventures, but no concrete concept of the actual scale.
So, embracing the classic idea of "returning home in glory," Chris decided to bring his entire family to witness his legitimate business accomplishments during the gym's grand opening.
After all, the obvious value and quality of a high-end fitness facility would give people an immediate, tangible understanding of Chris's genuine economic strength and business acumen.
And twenty such high-end gyms spread across Rhode Island would make people even more acutely aware of Chris's immense financial power and growing influence.
Chris stepped up onto the temporary podium at Mayor West's formal invitation, ready to deliver his prepared opening remarks to the assembled crowd.
Below the podium, Joe Swanson looked at Brian—who was sitting in a borrowed wheelchair with both legs in casts—and asked while suppressing barely concealed laughter, "Jesus, Brian, what the hell happened to you? Why are you in a wheelchair too? We could start a club!"
"Hahahaha! He must have been slacking off at work and got his legs broken for incompetence!" Glenn Quagmire burst into loud, mocking laughter at Brian's obvious predicament. "I was wondering why I hadn't seen you at the Drunken Clam these past few nights!"
Peter—blissfully unaware of any subtext—chimed in cheerfully, "Oh, he told me some random thugs attacked him on his way home from the factory and broke his legs, then stole his entire case of dragon's blood beverage. Terrible luck!"
"Fuck off, Quagmire! Just shut your mouth!" Brian snapped in genuine irritation, seeing Quagmire's exaggerated mocking expression.
But Quagmire had disliked Brian for years, so there was absolutely no way he'd miss this golden opportunity to mock him mercilessly.
"Hahaha, oh man, he's getting pissed! That means I guessed right!" Quagmire cackled with delight. "What Peter said is obviously just some bullshit story Brian made up. He probably got his legs broken for something way more embarrassing!"
When Joe heard Peter mention the dragon's blood beverage, his expression shifted to genuine interest and hope. He sighed wistfully, "Man, that dragon's blood drink really is incredible stuff. Life-changing."
He unconsciously patted his paralyzed legs, as if they'd temporarily regained sensation from just thinking about the beverage's effects.
Distracted by Joe's sincere comment, Quagmire momentarily stopped mocking Brian and enthusiastically agreed, "Oh hell yeah! That drink is absolutely amazing! It's like it made me twenty years younger overnight! Giggity giggity!"
Then, the other members of the Drunken Clam quartet exchanged meaningful glances, all showing identical knowing smiles and raised eyebrows.
Without any doubt whatsoever, they'd all been leveraging the dragon's blood beverage's powerful performance-enhancing effects for exactly the same recreational purposes.
While the Drunken Clam crew chatted and bragged amongst themselves, Chris had already completed the official ribbon-cutting ceremony. With a genuinely joyful expression, he dramatically pushed open the massive glass gym doors behind him, warmly inviting everyone inside to tour the impressive facility.
As the crowd filed through the entrance, Chris strategically positioned himself near the doorway, personally greeting and shaking hands with the various prominent political and business figures of Rhode Island who'd shown up.
However, this wasn't Chris attempting to ingratiate himself with these powerful people or seeking their approval and validation.
Rather, they were genuinely eager to introduce themselves to Chris and make positive impressions—specifically to avoid accidentally provoking this rapidly rising young power player.
After the suspiciously well-timed "anti-gang operation" that had swept through Rhode Island just two days prior, Rhode Island's elite had clearly understood that the entire law enforcement operation had been launched specifically because this teenager needed certain properties for his gym construction.
Understanding this display of raw political influence, they'd further investigated Chris's family background and discovered that his mother Lois was actually the eldest daughter of the legendary Pewterschmidt family—one of the wealthiest and most politically connected dynasties in New England.
At that point, all remaining doubts in their minds had instantly vanished. They'd all rushed to personally attend this opening ceremony to pay their respects to the future "king" of Rhode Island.
After all, among Carter Pewterschmidt's potential heirs, only Lois had ever demonstrated the competence, intelligence, and ruthlessness required to manage such enormous responsibility and wealth.
And Chris was Lois's eldest son—meaning Pewterschmidt blood flowed directly through his veins.
So to anyone paying attention, the various business ventures Chris was currently establishing were clearly just Carter—that cunning old bastard—strategically transferring liquid assets to his chosen grandson and grooming him for future leadership.
Therefore, Chris—looking at the respectful group of Rhode Island's political and business elite assembled before him—greeted them all according to the formal etiquette protocols Lois had carefully taught him over the years. Then he immediately sought out West to demand an explanation.
"What the hell is going on here?" Chris asked quietly but firmly. "Why are all these prominent figures who frequently appear on local news coverage attending my gym's ribbon-cutting ceremony? I definitely don't remember spending money to invite any of them."
Having just spent literally all his accumulated dividend payments on this gym expansion, Chris was currently completely broke and couldn't spare even a single dollar for unnecessary expenses.
If West dared claim he'd spent company money inviting these political vultures, Chris was genuinely prepared to practice his boxing skills on his uncle and teach him a memorable lesson about fiscal responsibility!
Noticing Chris's visible displeasure and barely concealed threat, West chuckled softly and explained diplomatically, "Relax, nephew. Don't worry about them at all. You're Carter Pewterschmidt's grandson, and combined with your recent unusual business activities and political maneuvering, Rhode Island's elite have all independently concluded that Carter is officially grooming you to eventually become the next head of the Pewterschmidt family empire.
They're here entirely of their own initiative, trying to establish early relationships and curry favor."
"Ah, got it. They want to take credit for 'supporting a rising power' before I'm actually powerful, huh?" Chris said with dawning understanding. "Smart politics, I guess."
Having heard West's explanation, Chris generally understood the situation and immediately stopped worrying about it.
Honestly, he was far more concerned about that creepy old pervert Herbert who'd been openly staring at him with disturbing intensity for the past twenty minutes, rather than these background political figures who rarely directly interfered in daily life.
Ever since Chris had transmigrated into this universe, he'd been highly conscious about protecting himself from Herbert's predatory attention. Chris had consistently and deliberately avoided any direct contact with that dangerous old pervert.
And Chris had been remarkably successful in this defensive strategy. For over a month, through careful planning and situational awareness, he'd managed to never run into Herbert at all.
But today, because of the high-profile grand opening ceremony, all the neighbors from around the Griffin house had come to join the festivities and see what Chris had accomplished.
And that creepy old pervert Herbert was absolutely no exception to the neighborhood turnout.
Chris looked through the gym's front windows at Herbert outside, who was aggressively and persistently harassing Lois while trying to gain entry. Chris sighed heavily, steeling himself, and prepared to confront the situation directly.
If I didn't know that old man has some kind of bizarre supernatural protection in this universe, Chris thought darkly, I'd genuinely ask Stewie to loan me some rocket launchers and blow that predator straight to the moon.
As soon as Chris stepped outside the gym entrance, he immediately heard Herbert's distinctive wheezing whistle-voice directed at his mother.
"Ohhh, Lois... shhhh... why won't you let me into the gym?" Herbert complained in his creepy, breathy voice. "Don't old people... shhh... deserve to exercise too? That's age discrimination... shhhh..."
Thinking of Chris's explicit earlier request to prevent Herbert from entering the gym under any circumstances, Lois looked genuinely distressed and conflicted as she tried to politely deflect.
"Of course elderly people deserve to exercise, Mr. Herbert," Lois said diplomatically. "It's just that there are an unusually large number of people crowded inside the gym today, and we're genuinely worried you might accidentally get injured or trampled by the crowd. For your personal safety, wouldn't you prefer to join our family for lunch at a nice restaurant instead? Our treat!"
"NO... shhhh... I want to go into the gym right now!" Herbert loudly refused, his voice whistling and wheezing. "The dragon's blood beverage has already made me young and virile again... shhhh!"
To demonstrate his claimed rejuvenation, Herbert tremblingly raised his walker several inches off the ground in a pathetic display of "strength."
Lois felt completely helpless and out of options. Then she heard her son's confident voice from behind her.
"I'll handle this, Mom. Go back inside."
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