"Tell me a few things about your gang," Ronan said as he walked alongside Mark. "It would be better if I am not completely ignorant about everything before we get there."

"Um," Mark fell into contemplation. "Let me begin from the beginning."

"As I already told you," he continued, "every gang controls a specific area. And our gang controls Block 29."

"Not that we are the sole thugs or the bad men operating there, but the main business, that is, collecting the protection money and handing the cut over to the government authorities, is handled exclusively by us. So, yeah, Block 29 is our turf," he said. "But there are at least 2 gangs trying to snatch this position from us."

The city of Nergan, like practically every other city in the country, was divided into Blocks for administrative purposes. Nergan was divided into thirty-six Blocks, to be exact.

The size and population of these Blocks were not uniform. Few Blocks were humongous in size and population while few Blocks were small.

A general trend dictated that the lower the number of the Block, the more elite and posh the area was and it was closer to the centre of the city. For example, Block 1 was where the administrative offices, government quarters, and bungalows of high-ranking officials were located and it is also the centre of the town.

Nergan University was situated in Block 3. And the rented apartment where Ronan lived was in Block 31, which directly bordered Block 29.

Each Block voted for and elected a person known simply as a Block representative. Then, from among those thirty-six representatives, the mayor of the city was elected.

"Now," Mark continued, "our gang is pretty old. Around fifteen to seventeen years. I, myself, joined it six years ago."

"I do not know for sure," he continued, "but the rumors say that our boss was a grocery shop owner back in his day. They say that at one point, the gang that had been in control of Block 29 at that time started to harass him a bit too much. They began demanding absurd amounts of money and started taking stuff from his shop without paying. One day, things escalated, and our boss finally lost his cool."

"Rumor has it he grabbed a two-kilogram iron weight from his counter and smashed open the heads of two of their guys," Mark said. "A bloody conflict erupted."

"Our boss had to run and hide for a while, but he endured. Slowly, he built up his own strength, people started to follow him and he himself was a fearsome man, and one day he completely wiped out that gang, replacing them as the rulers of Block 29."

"Your boss has quite an interesting story," Ronan remarked. "What is his name?"

"Gravel," Mark replied in a whisper. "But know that you will not be calling him by his name. You will refer to him as Boss only."

"Okay!" Ronan nodded in agreement.

They walked for a few more minutes until they arrived in front of a single story building. The outer wall of the building was brightly lit with a pinkish red neon glow. A wooden door was opening right onto the street, and a muscular man was standing guard by it. A sign was plastered on the door. Red Rose Bar.

"Red Rose Bar," Mark said, gazing straight at the establishment. "This is the bar operated by our gang."

"For your information, we do not have any papers or licenses to run the place. Everything is illegal, and we do not pay any taxes. And since this is our turf and we are in collaboration with the authorities, no one questions it."

In the meantime, Ronan did a quick study of the bar and its surroundings.

The street and the general area were actually quite clean. The entire street was brightly lit. There were many commercial spaces and enterprises lining the road, and a few street vendors were occupying spots along the pavement, selling their goods.

Darkness had already taken over the sky, and quite a few people were roaming around the street, enjoying their evening. It seemed a pleasurable place.

"And this street is our cash cow," Mark informed. "The street is the axis of Block 29 and generates the maximum amount of protection money for us. Controlling this street means you control Block 29."

Ronan nodded his head processing the information.

"Come," Mark said.

He walked ahead and crossed the road. Ronan followed after him. Mark did not lead him into the bar but made a turn near the building and through a narrow gap brought Ronan in a dark alley behind the bar’s building. There were no streetlights here, and the only illumination they could see was the faint light flickering out from inside the building itself.

"Where are we going?" Ronan asked.

"You will see," Mark said, bringing him to a concrete ramp that was descending into a basement.

"This is the headquarters of our gang," Mark said, gesturing toward the ramp. "And because of our bar, a lot of people call us the Red Rose Gang. Not that we actually have an official name."

"Come," he instructed.

Ronan followed close behind. They descended the ramp, and finally, a brightly lit room came into view.

It was a massive basement, filled with a wide variety of things.

At one side of the basement lined up were recreational equipment. There was a snooker table, a setup for carrom, an air hockey table, and a basketball hoop.

At one end was a makeshift gym complete with dumbbells, weights, pull-up bars, and a heavy boxing bag. At another side more than half a dozen motorbikes were parked.

Scattered around, using these things, were about ten or twelve people. Two men were playing chess in one corner of the basement, while another man was doing chest presses.

The rest of the men were huddled in the center of the room around a circular wooden table. Playing cards were spread out across the surface. Almost every one of them had a cigarette pressed between his lips, and glasses filled with alcohol were placed in front of them on the table.

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