Evil Awe-Inspiring 169 The Top Fighter

"You... It was you!"

His eyes look like swords, almost trying to pierce me. At the same time, his fists are tight hard.

The scene suddenly becomes cold, and even the people sitting beside Sand Tiger can not help but quietly move their positions to away from him.

My eyes stare at him unavoidably, soboth of us are staring at each other.

Then Papa 8 suddenly opens his mouth and says carmly, "Sand Tiger, aren't you gambling your life? Let's gamble with you! If Little 5 loses, he will give you his life." Papa 8 turns to look at me and says in a deep voice,"Little 5, dare you?"

"Sure!" I answer with no doubt.

"Good" Papa 8's eyes flashes out a sharp light, and then glances at Sand Tiger: "Sand Tiger, if Little 5 lost, his life is yours. At the same time, the share we give out this time, apart from all of you here, we will take out one addition more to give you!" While saying this, he deliberatly pause.

Sure enough, the bosses of all the gangs here, no matter young or old, are all showing some covetous expression. Obviously, this time the cake is really big. Even the share of Papa 8 declarate of willing to give up is small, but the estimated value is quite impressive.

He looks around at all the changes in people's expressions one by one and then looks at Sand Tiger, says, "Sand Tiger, if Little 5 loses, we will naturally keep our promise, but what I want to ask is... If you lose, what will your family compensate us for except your life?"
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Sand Tiger's eyebrows are picking up, his eyes are flas.h.i.+ng a ray of determination. He shouts, "Okay, eight fingers, what else do you want?"

I see a deep chill in Papa's eyes, and my heart is beating hard!

I know that Papa 8 has only eight fingers on his right hand, so his nickname is "Eight Fingers", but in fact he has been unhappy with this nickname. Unless he laughs at himself occasionally. Otherwise, who dares to call him "Eight Fingers" in front of him, which is obviously mocking, is simply looking for own's death.

In his present position, no matter who, has to respectfully call him "Papa 8".

This Sand Tiger, everytime call Papa 8 all "eight fingers", I feel inside Papa 8's heart is really want to kill him now.

"Sand Tiger!" Papa 8's tone is still very gentle, but its cold meaning has been obvious. He's slowly saying in a low voice: "I don't want much... If you lose, your life will be gone. What's more, your family must be removed from Vancouver ever since. From the day you die, all your men must quit Vancouver! From now on, your men can't appear in Vancouver. We don't want any of your spheres of influence. We will give it to all the families here!" The deeper the voice of Papa 8 is, the more his eyes twinkle like playing a fate song. He stares at Sand Tiger coldly, slowly says word by word: "Sand Tiger, do you dare or not?"

Sand Tiger's forehead is sweating, but he seems still very fierce. He hesitate a little, and eyes show a decisive color. He says, "Okay! Eight fingers, just listen to you! If I lose, my life is yours, our family will also be dissolved! If you lose, you'll have to give our family an extra share of the profits!"

All the gang leaders around us have complicated eye sights in their eyes. It seems that not everyone are worried about Sand Tiger. Although from the standpoint they should be on the same side with Sand Tiger, but this kind of gambling, it seems that winning or losing is no harm to them at all.

If Sand Tiger wins, it would be a good thing for the rest of the local gangs. But if he dies, they will divide up the sphere of influence of Sand Tiger's family. Papa 8's promises on such occasions will certainly not be renewed. In this way, whether win or lose, the gambling will be of great benefit to them. Who would object to such a thing?

My heart is sneering: no wonder these local gangs are so numerous that they have been beaten down by Vietnamese, Iranian and Indian gangs for so many years. These guys are just scattered sand! Otherwise, if they can work together. For so many years, how can they only have such little strength?

Now, Sand Tiger is clearly in a camp with them, but when they see him is gambling the life against us, no one stands up. Looking at their eyes, instead, they seem to be calculating how much benefit they can get in this gambling, whether win or lose.

No wonder while Papa 8 was ranging the cpmpet.i.tors last time, from Vietnamese, to Indians, to Iranians, and then to these local gangs, He would say that these local gangs were really not enough to worry about.

On the spot, Papa 8 calls Tiger into the meeting room and prepares a life and death contract in front of everyone. In fact, this contract can not be recognized by law at all. But there are very different rules in the underworld. With this contract, no matter who wins or loses in the gambling, neither side can pursue revenge afterwards.

In front of everyone, Sand Tiger and I hated stare each other, sign the contract quickly and press the fingerprints.

Our side, of course, is Papa 8 as the witness. It's interesting that none of them will stand up as Sand Tiger's witness. It seems that these guys are wise enough to defend themselves and are unwilling to stand on Sand Tiger side to against us in public.

In the end, these guys make a false recommendation to each other, and only then they nominate two elders of "high moral standing" to come out. But look at the expressions of these two, it seems that they are also reluctance.

Papa 8's eyes are glimming silently with a hint of mockery. I do not speak, just pressed my fingerprints and step behind his back.

It should be said that this negotiation has been a success. At least most of the local gangs have been frightened by the large-scale conflicts in the past. They are basically soft. No one dares to jump out except Sand Tiger.

Papa 8 escorts them out in person. I see from a distance that inside the car parks on the street corner, which is used by the police for peeping, someone is quietly taking pictures. Papa 8 naturally sees them too, but he doesn't care at all, just smiles a little.

"Papa 8, these cops…" I say.

"Just leave them alone. They are umimportant small fishes." He says in calm.

Back in the room, Papa sits down on his chair. He does not speak, not let me sit down either, but looking at me deeply. After a while, he slowly says:

"Little 5, you're a little too impulsive today."

I look at him, but I can not tell whether he is angry or happy in his tone, so I just ask calmly, "I don't understand what you mean."

"You're a little impulsive. However, in my opinion, your response is also good. At least in some cases, impulse is a testament to courage." He smiles, then slowly takes out a pipe, slowly adds some tobacco, lights it, takes a deep breath. He is using his right hand, with only three fingers pinching the handle of the cigarette end, squinting at me, says lightly: "You dare stand up to protect our family would be good, but do you really know Sand Tiger? Are you sure to kill him?"

I think about it and answer, "I don't know."

"Oh? You don't know?"

"I really don't know." I nod, "This Sand Tiger should be pretty good at fight. I haven't fought with him, I don't know whether I can win him. But I only know one thing. I have to stand up for such a scene today. Otherwise, it would make them look down on us."

"Very good!" He sighs, his eyes somewhat complicate. After sighing, he slowly says, "When we were land in North America, we had fought a bloodline and come to the fore by not afraid of death and daring to fight. In those days, the local gangs, which have so many people and so many forces, dared not go out and fight with the Vietnamese gangs. Each of them was a shrinking tortoise. But we are not afraid that at that time, who thought what could or not? Fight first and then talk later! Even if we were hurt to be bleeding, we should let opponent know how tough we are!"

After that, Papa 8 looks at me and sighs, "Little 5, you're good, you're really good..."

But don't know why, I feel his tone is deep, even with the feeling of helpless and regretful.

"What's this?"

The next day, I was called out of the room by Tiger early in the morning. He takes me to a room behind the garage. It's a very simple conference room with a broken table. There's an old big TV and a DVD player on the table.

Tiger let me sit down, looking at me and holding his arms. "Little 5, do you know Sand Tiger's strength?"

"I'm not sure. It should be pretty good!" I'm honest.

Tiger sighs, "Sand Tiger is the leader of their family. Sand Snake, the one you killed is his cousin. The relations.h.i.+p between them is very good! So he wants to revenge so much. But do you know Sand Tiger's past?"

His expression is grave and his tone is slow: "Their family is not the most powerful in the local gangs. But it is generally accepted that Sand Tiger is a top fighter!"

A top fighter?

My heart is beating hard and my eyes are narrowing.

"Canada's local gangs have an old tradition of holding an internal fight competing at the beginning of each year, that is, the gangs will choose their best fighters to fight against each other." Tiger say slowly. "The top fighter is a honor."

"Sand Tiger has dominated the stage four times and won the t.i.tle of the top fighter." Tiger says this sentence in a dignified tone. He looks at me. "Little 5, I know you are very good at fight. But I still think that if you two fight fairly, you are more than 90 percent likely to be defeated."