Arthur could not tell if it was stereotypical or practical. Or maybe a little of both. Meeting in a restaurant - an expensive restaurant - when none of the parties involved could eat seemed foolish, but it also had the advantage of giving the speakers things to play with, a conversation piece and a large room that allowed full vision and made sneaking up on the group difficult.
It also meant that he had a chance to dine on the restaurant foodstuff, all of which was quite tasty, if a little canned. After all, bringing fresh foodstuff all the way to the seventh floor was nearly impossible and so the cooks made do with canned goods and local ingredients.
It left familiar recipes tasting a little different, a touch too sour, too sweet, too salty.
Not that a single eater complained, as they finished their meal in companioable silence. Arthur kept an eye on the other leaders, taking a read of them.
The Ghee Hin boss was frustratingly handsome, a tall, well-built man that might have been better off getting a job as a sugar baby or a male model than take part in the gang. He moved with a predator's grace, though he was quick to smile and answer and flirt, most especially with the United Nation's boss.
The UN leader was very tall for a woman, rail thin and pretty in a severe way. She sat with a leg propped up on her chair, glowered at the Ghee Hin boss whenever he opened his mouth and tried to flirt and otherwise tried to outmacho the men in the room at every opportunity.
As for the 66, unusually, he was an Indian. Lighter of skin, with a florid mustache and a shirt half-unbuttoned to showcase the hair rug beneath, he was the most politely reserved of the group. However, he was also the only one to greet Arthur in any form of familiarity or genuine happiness, and as such, Arthur had made sure to take a seat beside him.
Now, finally, the dessert was placed on the table. It made Arthur smile, as he saw what it was.
"How did you get a durian in here?" He could not help but ask, the smirking Ghee Hin boss justifiably proud of himself. It was only a single durian, and split open, the bright yellow colour of the contents showed that it was an older variety, a D24. Venerable and tasty, but nothing like the newer XO or ZT crop.
"We grew it," Fang Chien said. "This is the first crop. Not got many, but it's good." A magnanimous hand waved. "Eat, eat."
The group fell on the fruit after quick thanks, Arthur sucking on the smooth and slightly slimy flesh, expertly peeling skin off the bulbous, oval seed with his tongue. Maybe that's why Malaysian men were good with their mouths, having to use them so much for such food.
"So. I'm hoping this isn't too symbolic," Arthur said, wiping his face and taking one of the slices and waiting for the waiter to fill it water. Tilting one side up, he sipped on it, allowing the slightly bitter and sweet liquid flow into him. It was an old trick, to help wash the water down and reduce the 'heatiness' of the fruit.
"What!?" the woman asked, frowning. "What you mean?"
"Jean, right?" A scowling nod confirmed his guess, and he gestured at their plates. "The durian being split open and consumed, shared by all of you."
"You got a big head lah. This is good," she gestured at the food. "Fresh!"
A hesitation, then Arthur nodded in acknowledgement. Still, the way Fang Chien looked, he could not help but assume that the dessert choice was more than chance.
"Then, what is it that you wanted from us?" Arthur asked, tired of dancing around the issue.
"Nothing. Or, well, we just want to make sure, make clear we all understand things," Raj said, trying to mollify Arthur.
"Understand what?" he said, frustrated.
"What we do. What you should do," Jean said, flatly. "You better not interfere with us, got it?" She leveled a finger at him, glaring over it.
"Or what?" Arthur could not help but ask.
She clenched a fist, a clear threat. Before Arthur could answer her, Fang Chien waved a hand between the two, that big bright smile on his face.
"No, no. We're all friends here," Fang Chien said. "No threats, nothing like that." He waved between the two others and himself, adding. "We just want to make sure you understand, we have a good thing. Not like other floors. We don't fight, we don't quarrel. We all have our own things, our own places. And we don't want you all to mess it up, you know."
"Us?" Arthur said, cocking his head to the side. "What makes you think we're going to make more trouble for you than the Prime Group? Or TG? Or any others."
"You got a Clan lah." Fang Chien waggled a finger at Arthur. "Already we know, you have kicked out some people. Talking to the White Lotuses. Soon, you'll start recruiting. Maybe buy up places?"
Arthur shrugged. "If we can afford it, in the future, maybe. But that's a long time away."
"Better to talk now, than talk later," Raj offered.
"Fine," Arthur said. "Tell me."
The next half-hour tested his patience as he was talked down to, how the city ran explained to him over and over again as though he could not understand simple concepts like geographic and industrial boundaries. It did, at least, clarify for Arthur that they truly were serious about this, wanting to demarcate where and how the Durians could expand, who they could poach and what kind of buildings they could acquire.
Only two things stopped him from losing his temper. Firstly, the practical reality that the Durians, while entirely safe behind the walls of their Clan house - or at least, as safe as one could be - that protection did not extend outside of the building. The gangs could easily make the lives of their members miserable, harming them long before they could reach the Clan residence or anytime they left including to ascend.
The second reason was the way they were talking to them. A little patronising - but towards him. They were, in the end, treating the Clan like an actual equal, one that they had to pacify to some extent and layout problems. They might not be a threat, now, but the gangs were all clear that could change all too fast.
Which was, of course, why they were trying to clip their wings before it could open. It was the reason none of the other players - the corporations and the government - were involved. This was a political maneuver, but a strange one to Arthur. After all, anything he agreed to could be rescinded; none of them had anything but his word to go on.
Even so, if they were here to test how far they could push the new Clan Head; he could see it somewhat. And if that was the case…
“I understand your points,” Arthur said, slowly. “All of them. However, it seems that you’ve divided the city up almost completely, both geographically and industry wise. There’s nothing else for us to do.”
“That doesn’t matter, right? You’re a Clan. You should be pushing people to ascend and training them, not running businesses or buying up restaurants and the like,” Raj said.
“We still need income. And while there are mobs out there on the fringes, the real income comes from the businesses, no?” Arthur said.
“We never say you tak boleh have business, just you pay like everyone,” Jean said.
“And do the other big businesses have to pay?” Silence was the answer he received which was answer enough. “Then, why us?”
“Because you’re no Prime Group. You want to fight us? Can also.” Jean grinned.
Again, Fang Chien spoke up. “No, no. We don’t want to fight the Durians, not unless you want to force it.” He smiled, traded looks between the group. “We can work out a deal, for you all. If it’s cores, you have space, right? In your clan building?”
Arthur hesitated, seeing what was happening now. A single gang he might be willing to pit the Durians against. However, that was only so long as he and the main team were here. Unless he killed or seriously hurt the gang they were fighting, they would eventually recover. That was, of course, the problem with fighting international organisations. It didn’t matter how much damage you did locally, eventually, they’d reinforce and you had to start all over again.
With all three gangs agreed on this, it would be a real problem. Better for Arthur to comply. More importantly, something that Jean had said had given him an idea. In fact…
“In that case, whatever business we build outside of whatever you agreed on, no honing in on. No protection money, no blocking us off, all of it,” Arthur said. “Agreed?”
“Wait, what kind of-”
Before Fang Chien could agree, Jean spoke up. “Agreed.”
“-you can’t agree-” Fang Chien protested at Jean.
Raj was slower, flicking his gaze between the arguing pair. He met Arthur’s gaze, then smirked and offered a slight nod.
“Agreed,” he said.
“I… you too?” Now Fang Chien looked angry, but outvoted, he grated a low, “agreed.”
“Great, then I got a need for a place to buy,” Arthur said. “Or have built. You guys do construction, right?”