Verse
Star
- Joined
- May 8, 2011
Wen Hi Jien was a consequence of Yareli. The youth had sprung in the city's - affectionately known as New City - bad parts, which was most of the blocks surrounding the polished, high-rise megacity core. But he had been born on the edge of suburbia, so he'd had a silver of a chance for better education. But he was a bad element spreading more of the same around him. At least it taught the upper-middle class children there were worse things than having a bad lunch, out there. Being mainland Chinese, he could only ever have gone one way, if he didn't take to academics. And with the Triad collective of Xuy waiting for him, Wen had carried the confidence of his heritage of violence even into the sandbox and schoolyard. Really, enforcing his group was just another form of bullying, so who's to say he hadn't gotten an education that would benefit him later in life?
Not that it had been without trials. New City was overrun with criminal intent and the ambitions that comes with it. In the beginning, when there was no guns or knives, Wen had to beat his way to the top of his own social group. Back then he'd been a little bird-boned shit, and relied on tricks and viciousness to get by. But his tireless malice and enthusiasm for stomping others down for whatever pittance they had in their pockets eventually paid off. Even the slow learners of Yareli East Johnson Elementary got it into their skulls that if you fucked with Wen Hi Jien, or even didn't listen to him when he wanted you to humiliate yourself for him, you'd get beaten badly. By the time he got to East High there was little less to prove to those without affiliations, and those with usually kept peace because the higher ups from the actual streets didn't want trouble when they could peddle drugs to kids. They didn't want war because young members didn't know what to do with all their testosterone.
It's like that in crime economies; sometimes the hoodlooms and crooks have more power than the people with the real money. The Xuy was well familiar with Wen's worth by the time he graduated, and he sat pretty on his own gaggle of bad elements now. They'd even made sure he enrolled into university so he could continue selling to the same people he always had. And bully the same people, too.
Between standing guard at the dock, and waiting for older members to peddle their larger amounts of contraband, and often actually practicing abhorrent acts to maintain power for his group, Wen had to have his own projects to blow off steam. Lately it had been fucking the dirty new girls who came off shipping containers from boats that dealt both in smuggling wares and people, but classically he just liked to target someone and mess up their lives. He was sitting in a warehouse that he'd pretty much claimed for his own, with guys at the top of his given group, looking on his phone. Wen had chosen a wooden crate that had once contained toys impregnated with heroine as his seat. It made him taller than anyone else, who had to stand, hunched over the little screen. Not that he hadn't grown exponentially in the last few years.
"Yeah, his name is Robin, and he's been like my toy since the beginning of high school I think." he bragged. The video was of a public bathroom, dirty, with a boy their age, but decidedly more effeminate looking, forced to wear a bra that was too big for him, and nothing else. "Had him steal his mother's underwear." The boy had a black eye that well explained just how Wen had persuaded him. "But I think he likes it. Look at his little prick standing up like that." The others huffed in agreement.
"Yeah, eventually they just give into it." one of the onlookers muttered around the filter of his cigarette. Wen shrugged.
"You should all see the mom too, by the way." His eyes rolled with some dreamy enthusiasm. Wen was long in design, his black hair too, and still had elegant bones in his face from his youth, but there was a hardness in the sharp details. But sometimes he made expression that could remind you of his age. "She's like one of those conservative wives." he complained and grabbed his crotch with his free hand. "I've been thinking of expanding to the rest of the this little bitch's family." he said and meant the male on the screen who was now forced to dance and sway so his cock clapped against his thighs.
Wen flicked his phone to the side and one of the guys had to catch it. Didn't want to be the one who dropped the leader's phone. Wen already had a cigarette in his mouth and blew at the rusty beams in the high ceiling. The others looked at him with some awe. He didn't have a suit like the elders, but his leather jacket and fitted slacks were still something they coveted because of what it meant for their station. They had some time to kill before a big thing tonight that would likely involve bloodshed. But they were between activities. They were all waiting on Wen to decide.
It'd be a combustive time to visit the rag-tag band.
Not that it had been without trials. New City was overrun with criminal intent and the ambitions that comes with it. In the beginning, when there was no guns or knives, Wen had to beat his way to the top of his own social group. Back then he'd been a little bird-boned shit, and relied on tricks and viciousness to get by. But his tireless malice and enthusiasm for stomping others down for whatever pittance they had in their pockets eventually paid off. Even the slow learners of Yareli East Johnson Elementary got it into their skulls that if you fucked with Wen Hi Jien, or even didn't listen to him when he wanted you to humiliate yourself for him, you'd get beaten badly. By the time he got to East High there was little less to prove to those without affiliations, and those with usually kept peace because the higher ups from the actual streets didn't want trouble when they could peddle drugs to kids. They didn't want war because young members didn't know what to do with all their testosterone.
It's like that in crime economies; sometimes the hoodlooms and crooks have more power than the people with the real money. The Xuy was well familiar with Wen's worth by the time he graduated, and he sat pretty on his own gaggle of bad elements now. They'd even made sure he enrolled into university so he could continue selling to the same people he always had. And bully the same people, too.
Between standing guard at the dock, and waiting for older members to peddle their larger amounts of contraband, and often actually practicing abhorrent acts to maintain power for his group, Wen had to have his own projects to blow off steam. Lately it had been fucking the dirty new girls who came off shipping containers from boats that dealt both in smuggling wares and people, but classically he just liked to target someone and mess up their lives. He was sitting in a warehouse that he'd pretty much claimed for his own, with guys at the top of his given group, looking on his phone. Wen had chosen a wooden crate that had once contained toys impregnated with heroine as his seat. It made him taller than anyone else, who had to stand, hunched over the little screen. Not that he hadn't grown exponentially in the last few years.
"Yeah, his name is Robin, and he's been like my toy since the beginning of high school I think." he bragged. The video was of a public bathroom, dirty, with a boy their age, but decidedly more effeminate looking, forced to wear a bra that was too big for him, and nothing else. "Had him steal his mother's underwear." The boy had a black eye that well explained just how Wen had persuaded him. "But I think he likes it. Look at his little prick standing up like that." The others huffed in agreement.
"Yeah, eventually they just give into it." one of the onlookers muttered around the filter of his cigarette. Wen shrugged.
"You should all see the mom too, by the way." His eyes rolled with some dreamy enthusiasm. Wen was long in design, his black hair too, and still had elegant bones in his face from his youth, but there was a hardness in the sharp details. But sometimes he made expression that could remind you of his age. "She's like one of those conservative wives." he complained and grabbed his crotch with his free hand. "I've been thinking of expanding to the rest of the this little bitch's family." he said and meant the male on the screen who was now forced to dance and sway so his cock clapped against his thighs.
Wen flicked his phone to the side and one of the guys had to catch it. Didn't want to be the one who dropped the leader's phone. Wen already had a cigarette in his mouth and blew at the rusty beams in the high ceiling. The others looked at him with some awe. He didn't have a suit like the elders, but his leather jacket and fitted slacks were still something they coveted because of what it meant for their station. They had some time to kill before a big thing tonight that would likely involve bloodshed. But they were between activities. They were all waiting on Wen to decide.
It'd be a combustive time to visit the rag-tag band.