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You Want Me To Face Harm?

"How about I fix you up to work with me, or for me? You decide, but anyway you choose, you will be earning some cool cash," Don Black said to Greg.

Greg rolled his eyes. Yet another job offer.

Did he want to work with or for Don Black?

Greg looked at Don Black.

"As in, I should be a gangsta boss or a gangsta bodyguard?" He asked sheepishly.

"Oh spare me the judgment, Greg. Am I a gangsta? Are you trying to call me a gangsta?" Don Black asked.

Greg chuckled and glared at Don Black with surprise.

"Are you saying you are not one?" He asked.

"Tell me, who is a gangsta? Who do you define as a gangsta?" Don Black put down his glass of rum by a side stool and asked.

Greg assessed Don Black closely.

"Someone like you. Dresses like you. Has fierce, troublemaking bodyguards around like you. I don't know the nature of your business, but I bet you sell drugs, right? Like a gangsta," Greg said.

Don Black laughed a high-pitched squeal for a while and smacked his palm on his lap.

"I wish I
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