Anqiluo had no idea Tony had pocketed one of his gold coins. Even if he did, it wouldn't have mattered. The number of coins in his inventory was so large he couldn't keep track of it anyway.
And honestly, what could Tony even do with one coin? At worst, it would just turn into another fifty thousand dollars squeezed out of him later.
Alexei stuck around the church until dinnertime and even managed to get a free lunch from Number Six.
It was a proper Chinese-style dish, spicy hot pot. The flavor was decent to Anqiluo, though nothing special. Alexei, on the other hand, devoured it like it was the best thing he'd ever eaten.
Naturally, Anqiluo charged him five hundred dollars for the meal.
Even the CEO of Stark Industries had paid five hundred for a drink. Charging Alexei the same for a full meal was already a "neighbor discount."
Alexei talked endlessly, and since Anqiluo had nothing better to do, he let him. Having a Russian mob boss as free company wasn't bad.
Though, if it were a blonde, long-legged Russian woman instead, that would've been better.
For the first time, Anqiluo got a real look into how these gang members thought. They didn't actually enjoy their lives as much as people assumed. In fact, they were often afraid to spend money, since most of it came from illegal sources. If the IRS started digging, they'd be finished.
There was a saying in the U.S. that even criminals had to pay taxes.
Guns didn't help when dealing with the IRS. Even heavy weapons wouldn't matter. The agency's enforcement power was second only to the military.
After Alexei left, it wasn't long before Matt slipped into the church again.
That made Anqiluo laugh in frustration.
So this was a shift schedule now? One during the day, one at night?
Was he not intimidating enough?
And what kind of world was this where the lawyer worked nights and the mob boss showed up during the day?
Still, when he noticed the fresh injuries on Matt, he held back what he was about to say.
Clearly, after leaving yesterday, Matt had gone out to do what he believed in.
And it hadn't gone well.
"…Why do you do this to yourself?" Anqiluo sighed, tossing him a beer like before.
At this point, the place felt more like a bar than a church.
Matt shrugged. "I think it's worth it. I saved two more people last night."
Anqiluo didn't know how to respond to that.
People like Matt, who knew they couldn't change everything but still acted anyway… he didn't have an answer for them.
If it were someone all talk and no action, Anqiluo would've shut them up fast. But someone like Matt? All he could feel was respect.
"So why are you here tonight?" Anqiluo asked. "Don't tell me you came just to chat. I'm not staying up all night doing therapy sessions."
Between the two options, he'd rather discuss clothing with Number One through Nine than hang out alone with another guy.
Matt thought about his words for a moment, then smiled and pulled a book out of his bag. He opened it and showed it to Anqiluo.
The title read: Guiguzi.
"I'm here to read," Matt said. "It's interesting. There are parts I don't understand, so I wanted to ask you."
Anqiluo's expression turned strange.
He hadn't expected Matt to move this fast. He'd only mentioned it yesterday, and now Matt already had the book.
Then another thought hit him.
"Wait… Matt. Aren't you blind? How are you reading?"
Matt didn't mind the question. He ran his fingers across the page. "Like this. I can't see, but I have a law degree from Columbia. Some of the ideas in this book are fascinating. There's something I wanted to ask you—"
Anqiluo cut him off immediately.
Watching a blind man "reading" a traditional strategy book like this reminded him of fortune tellers from his previous life.
"You don't get it," Anqiluo said, heading for the stairs. "Books like that… you have to figure them out yourself. If someone explains it to you, it won't mean anything."
Matt frowned slightly. "Is that so…?"
"Yeah," Anqiluo said quickly. "I'm heading upstairs. I won't lock the door tonight. Stay and read if you want. Take your time."
Then he walked off.
There was no way he could explain any of that book. He barely knew anything about it. If Matt kept asking questions, he'd get exposed immediately.
As for leaving the door unlocked?
Between the clay golems and Matt himself, anyone stupid enough to try something would regret it.
Even injured, Matt could easily handle a few street thugs one-on-one.
…
They left each other alone without saying it out loud.
Over the next few days, Alexei and Matt practically worked in shifts. Alexei showed up during the day, Matt at night.
On the second day, Alexei even brought over a brand-new computer and had internet installed, just because Anqiluo had casually complained about the lack of internet cafes in Hell's Kitchen.
The technician who came to install it looked terrified the entire time under Alexei's watch, finishing the job as fast as possible before leaving.
At least this way, there was no risk of the service provider secretly throttling the connection.
Matt stopped needing an invitation. He'd walk in, grab a beer from the fridge, and sit in the hall, running his fingers over the book.
If he heard someone calling for help, he'd leave, handle it, and return before dawn.
Of course, he never paid for the beer.
Anqiluo didn't care. Each morning, he'd quietly add the cost to a small notebook. He'd collect it someday.
Life felt stable.
Playing games, chatting with Alexei, occasionally trying to nudge a mob boss toward being a better person, and keeping a running tab for Matt.
It wasn't bad.
But three days later, that calm ended.
That night, Matt had just arrived. Anqiluo greeted him and was about to head upstairs, hoping to avoid another impossible question—like the one Matt had asked earlier about some cryptic line from the book.
Before he could leave, the sound of engines filled the street outside.
Cars.
Motorcycles.
A lot of them.
"They're here," Matt said, his expression turning serious as he faced the entrance. His hearing picked up at least twenty sets of footsteps. Some of them moved with purpose.
This wasn't random.
This was trouble.
Upstairs, Number One and the others saw the scene through the window and quickly came down, standing behind Anqiluo.
They didn't know who was coming.
But they knew one thing—
Anyone showing up like this wasn't a guest.