The Amazing Son in Law The Charismatic Charlie Wade

Upon receiving Hogan’s command, Jordan bolted out in haste.

Chinatown, a maze of complexity confined to a single thoroughfare, fostered an intimacy among its denizens. A bustling street, it drew Chinese souls in droves. Here, bonds mimicked those of street-side neighbors. Despite a sprinkling of unscrupulous characters, the collective ethos leaned toward assistance and solidarity.

In the early days, newly-arrived Chinese immigrants in the States sought strength in numbers, forming close-knit groups for survival. Over time, as society evolved, so did the divisions, and the occasional alliance for mutual protection transformed into a vocation. Thus, the Chinese gang took shape.

Bloom Gang’s history told a different tale. From its inception, it was not a marauding crew preying on the weak.

Contrary to their Chinese counterparts, American gangs, largely birthed during Prohibition, thrived on anti-government ventures. They bore a century-long grudge, a doctrine that flouted authority. Huabang, on the other hand, collected protection dues in Chinatown akin to an unofficial community fee, reasonable and obliging, attending every household’s call.

Yet, the Burning Angel, collectors of protection dues, were veritable brigands. They craved only lucre, your life was spared if they got their fill. Deny them and a blade or bullet would speak.

Minutes later, Jordan returned with a middle-aged man in tow, a man of about forty.

As soon as the man crossed the threshold and beheld Hogan, he exclaimed with zeal, “Brother Hogan, you’ve returned!”

This was Casey Vigo, the overseer of the Chinese gang in New York’s Chinatown.

Spotting the thick bandage around Casey’s neck, Hogan swiftly inquired, “Vigo, what happened to your neck?”

Casey sighed, “Long story short, caught a bullet coming home. Grazed my neck. If I’d been a hair off, I’d be reporting to the Lord of Hell.”

He turned a horrified gaze to the five wretched figures in the corner. “Hogan, what in the world happened? What’s going on?”

Hogan pressed, “Jordan didn’t fill you in?”

mentioned it was urgent,” Vigo replied, “But

to collect ‘dues’ from Jordan, but Mr. Jagoan here gave them a different

Jagoan, this is

believe that this vicious Burning Angel bunch had been reduced to such a state by the young man

to make the introduction. Mr. Jagoan here also wished

to reality. Unfamiliar with Jagoan’s identity, he surmised it was no small feat to have inflicted such a pounding on these five. He promptly approached Jagoan with respect. “Hello,

inquiring, “How many members are in the Bloom

now, barring the wounded and the

brow furrowed. “With nearly a hundred, how’d you let

“Mr. Jagoan… These five belong to the Burning Angels. Behind them are Italians. They command over a dozen

gang brawl with thousands involved in the U.S.? Could they

don’t understand… They’re ruthless. Openly or covertly, they’ve taken out key members of our gang. Fear gripped our brothers and they’ve all

“How many of yours

“Eleven… Only… We’re a foreign minority gang in New York, can’t take on local titans like them. We have no wish for confrontation and they’ve taken full advantage. Lay a finger on

about the ethnic minority gangs? Koreans, Vietnamese, Algerians, are they

hesitating. “I haven’t heard

the five, Jagoan turned to Vigo, “Then, have you ever wondered? Why do these men

his head

“The Koreans are armed to the teeth because… Since 92,