The Chains — Chapter 15 — The King's Tax
Somewhere else in Marélia, Alan tells what happened to whoever was left from that night — and repeats the city's one rule.
Kim doesn't like telling stories. So Jack tells it with him.
ALAN
— Wake up.
Nothing.
— Wake up.
He opened one eye. Then the other. He tried to move his arms and found out they were tied to the chair. He tried his legs and found out the same thing.
— What the fuck is this? What's going on?
I let him look around. A room with no windows, a single bulb, the smell of wet cement. My men leaning against the wall, in no hurry. Me sitting in front of him, legs crossed, waiting.
I always let them look around. Saves on explaining.
— So, my friend. You know who I am?
He stared at me. It took a while. His face still had the marks from that night — crooked nose, black eye, a sloppy bandage over the eyebrow. But what changed in his face wasn't any of that. It was the moment he understood.
— You… you're Alan. The king of Marélia.
— Exactly.
I uncrossed my legs.
— So if you know who I am, you should know the rules for doing business in my castle.
I don't know if you get why I'm the king of Marélia. I'm not wasting time explaining. I'll keep it short and clear.
Marélia is my castle.
Nothing happens here without me hearing about it. No bike rolls through, no load comes down, no warehouse opens its doors at night without somebody, somewhere, telling me. I knew about their club before it had a name.
— If you knew the rules of Marélia — I said —, you'd know you made a very serious mistake. Very serious.
He started talking fast. It's always like that. Whoever realizes he's done starts talking fast, like the words could pay for something.
— Man, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. We were just trying to set up our operation, that's all. If it's money, if it's product, we'll settle it, we'll split it, you can keep all of it. Only… only it all burned. All of it. Two lunatics showed up in our spot and wrecked everything.
Two lunatics.
I almost smiled.
— Here's the thing, sweetheart.
I stood up. Walked slowly around his chair.
— I don't care about your money. I don't care about your drugs. I don't care about your schemes.
I stopped behind him. He couldn't see me, and that made him shake harder.
— I already knew about all of that. I was letting it happen. Letting you grow. Because sooner or later you'd have to share with me, if you wanted to keep working here. Everybody shares. It's the king's tax.
I came back around to face him.
— But that part is negotiation. That part is just business. And business I settle with a conversation.
— Then let's talk, man. Please.
— Business isn't the problem.
— The problem is you broke a rule. A very clear rule.
I crouched down until I was at his eye level.
— There's one rule in this city. And it goes like this: the green-haired kid and the Kid in the blue cap, nobody touches.
He blinked. He didn't get it.
— That rule is clear to everybody who works in this city. From the smallest corner in the Baixada to the top of the Hill. Nobody lays a finger on a single hair of those boys.
— But… but who are those kids? Why'd they come after us?
— Doesn't matter why.
— Man, they set everything on fire. They…
— I don't know why. — I said it slowly, so he'd hear every word. — You must have done something really fucked up. I've seen those two work a lot. A whole lot. But I've never seen them do anything like what they did to you.
I looked at his bandage.