“Satu lagi apartment building ah?” Jan said, as she followed him along.
“That’s the best choice,” Mel said. “Only real one.”
“Why?” Jan replied. “Why not something like that?” A hand waved at the retail store and residence.
“Not enough space,” Mel replied. “Also, the building bonus.”
“Security, ya?”
“Yes,” Arthur replied, lancing back. “Means we get a Town Guard. How much business you think we’re going to get, with one of those things staring at our customers? Never mind having to pull security in or let people in individually.”
“High end stores are like that, right?” Jan offered. She looked at Casey, probably the only person in their group who actually had an experience at a high end store.
The heiress glanced back at Jan, shrugged. “Not unless you sell really expensive jewelry or something. I mean, mostly, people just don’t go there. It’s too much, you know?”
Arthur grunted. Of course, in KL it also was true that many of those kind of stores were in the same areas, places a little more exclusive than Bangsar or Bukit Bintang. Old money places like Bukit Tunku or yuppie places like Damansara Heights. Areas that had security guards even on the roads coming in, whether or not you were supposed to, because there were different laws for different classes.
“Down this street?” Arthur said into the silence.
Lam was the one who answered, the man confirming it. His gaze swept left and right, taking in the surroundings and narrowing. He tensed and the group did too, taking a cue from his body language. Moments later, he spoke, tersely.
“Gangers, straight ahead.”
It took Arthur a moment to spot them, another to frown. Six, just a few too many for his liking. Worst part, they were lounging outside the apartment building, a building that had a number of other, angry climbers standing outside it now. He slowed his footsteps, even as the lounging gangers straightened as they spotted them.
"Spotted us," Mel said.
"So did the crowd." Casey frowned. "Who are they?"
"Shit." Arthur muttered moments later. "I know." He paused, sighed. "It's the previous occupants. Look, over there, there's a guy holding a real pillow."
“Really? Silk, feather?” Casey said, curiously.
“I don’t think that’s the point,” Lam muttered. He glanced at Casey, then slowed down a tiny bit, hand held out sideways to make her slow with him. “I feel this is something that Clan Head Chua and his people should settle.”
“Ooof, Brutus,” Arthur said.
“Eh?” Lam said.
“Julius Caesar, gets stabbed by his friend?” He sighed when only a few nodded. “No one watches the classics anymore.” He watched the crowd coming, flicked his glance between the two groups and made a quick decision. “Mel, you’re on the gangers. Probably the Ghee Hin.” Easy call since they were all Chinese, and others like the 66 who were prominent were often more varied.
“Saya dengan kamu,” Jan muttered, answering for him.
Arthur nodded, figuring he needed more help. If things got into a fight, perhaps Mel would need their aid, but if they were fighting a whole apartment block of annoyed residents, they were doing something seriously wrong.
“What can I offer them?” Mel, ever practical, asked.
“Nothing.” He said, simply. “Find out what they want, don’t promise anything.”
Mel nodded and then Arthur turned to Casey. They’re mostly short-term residents, right?” he looked over at Casey who nodded. One of the reasons he picked this apartment block, rather than the others. “Then that gives me a plan.”
Moments later, they no longer had time to plan as the angry group of residents made their way over. Mel had caught the eye of the triad members, waving them over to the side of the road discreetly so that they could continue their conversation. Lam and Casey had fallen back, heading over to a nearby merchant store and stepping in rather than get involved directly.
Arthur let the wash of voices roll over him, listening to the shouting group. He parsed together their comments soon enough, the words coming to him in a thick wash of Manglish, Malay, Cantonese and Mandarin and even the occasional Hindi or Tamil or Punjab. Could never really pick out one or the other – one of the negatives of being one of the smaller ethnic groups, few bothered to learn more than a few words here or there of those languages.
In the end, he raised his hand to get them to quiet. He waved it back and forth, but all he received was more shouting. It was Jan who managed to shut them up, releasing a loud ‘Oy!’ that silenced the group briefly.
Rather than let the momentary silence go to waste, Arthur broke in.
“I hear you. You’re upset you were kicked out. I understand you paid the Chin’s.” He raised a hand. “I get you’re angry at me. But they were the ones who sold it to us, so if you want or need a refund; get it from them.”
That, of course, didn’t make them any happier. More shouting, more words of recriminations, more threats. He glared at the few who tried the threats, not letting himself be intimidated even though a part of him knew that they likely out leveled him.
One danger of rushing. However, they didn’t know that and so long as they didn’t, he could bluff.
"You kicked us out!" A finger, poking towards him. He didn't move, even if it did feel uncomfortable to have something so sharp prodded at him. Weird how a single finger, even if it was the least dangerous - and probably dumbest - threatening move could still set the hind brain on edge. "So I think you should let us back in!"
"And I can't do that." Arthur raised a hand. "I don't know who you people are, which rooms you lived in, nothing. What agreements you had with the Chin's, that's with them." He hesitated, then continued. "We can, however, discuss potentially renting some of those rooms out. To a select few."
"Oh, now you're going to rent me my home? Going to sell me back my furniture now?" Finger-poker snarled. Arthur took him in now. Pudgy hich was surprising for a Climber, florrid, angry. The finger that poked at him was part of the the most calloused part of his body, the hands stained and with minor knicks and a lot of callouses. "All my equipment?"
"What are you doing, keeping a lot of stuff in a short-term rental area? Isn't that, like, the opposite of what you should do?" Arthur asked, curiously.
"I was in-between places." Something in the way he said that, the defensive tone of voice made Arthur curious.
He looked around, judged the group as he thought it over. Ignored other people complaining about leaving things behind, before he waved a hand at them. "Alright, alright. Enough. You all have keys to your own rooms?" Nods from all around. "Fine. Here's what we do. We get the Prime manager over here, you can shout at them about what they owe you still. Get a refund or something. And..." More shouting, but he kept staring in silence, waiting until they realised he had more to say. "And I'll let you all in, one way or the other, under supervision to take what you want. After we confirm that's your room."
He grunted. "We'll be renting a few of the rooms out on a weekly basis. Great for cultivation, but for the short term only. Don't expect to stay long, if you need it. Long-term guests only for friends of the Durians or members."
"Tiu neh lah!"
"Ni cakap banyak tahi, ah!"
Again, the curses washed over him. He had a feeling this might take a bit, what with the sheer anger that was being exhibited. Almost, almost, he wanted to push ahead; to ignore them but he knew this would cause trouble. Some of the smarter ones though, they had grown silence at the name Durians. Others, thoughtful.
"I can't let you stay, damn it. It's not safe for you or us. The Tower Guard sentry we have, he needs renewal regularly. I miss it, you miss it, he chops your head off. You think I want that?" Arthur shook his head. "I'm sure you don't. So. No long-term guests. Anyway, I'll rent to those who do come by, with valid reason and aren't asses and who have been there longest or paid longest, at the same rate as before."
That shut the smart ones up, an avaricious gleam in their eyes. No one was dumb enough not to realise what a Clan building could do for their cultivation. How much denser the energy within it would be, especially on the seventh floor. Of course, for those who had to use short-term housing, such luxuries were generally considered an impossibility to acquire.
A luxury that only the rich or the great managed. Now, perhaps, their ill-luck had turned.
He saw some of the smarter ones backing off, heading for the Prime group manager who had been attempting to sneak off if not for the few other climbers who had been smart enough to keep him contained rather than rush over to deal with the Durians. Once the few started leaving, the energy in the crowd started fading.
It wasn't that easy, of course, and he'd still need to calm down the angriest of the group; but at least it hadn't resulted in blows. Which, in his view, was an overall win.