Chương 89: Grom the Barbarian: The Wolf of Wallstreet

Wet, cold rain rolled off him. People passing gave him a wide berth, some glancing back as if uncertain if he was real. Grom not know where Grom is, but Grom don't like this place. Why do box move? What move box taste like? Why man so small? Buildings like mountains, people like ants. His fist tightened around the cudgel. Eyes flicked from one target to the next and found nothing he could recognize. Cars passing by did not arouse even the slightest interest, rather the smell repulsed him.

"Hey, can't you see I'm walking here? Woah, you are one big fella" Grom registered a barely detectable tap on his back. He turned, causing people to jump back in fright and one woman to scream.

"Who you?" Grom grumbled.

"That's what I should be asking you. You definitely aren't from around here" the short man in a suit chuckled, letting out of an acrid puff of smoke "Are you from Norway? I hear the people there are massive. But why are you dressed like you work the caveman exhibit at the zoo?" Grom tilted his head. This man, one hit to kill. but clothing not taste so good.

"Hell with it, want a job?" the man let out another puff.

"Job? What is a job? Does it have food?" Grom asked.

"Yeah bub, it's got food alright. We could use some real muscle, not those wimpy Russians they keep importing. They act all tough and are useful exactly twice. You though, you could give them a run for their rubbles."

"Grom not understand. Grom is hungry," he yawned, stretching his club up into the sky, reaching nearly the height of three men.

"The boss is going to love this one. Alright follow me bub, I'll get you food and how about some nice clothing too. I can't bring you to the big man looking like you walked out of a cave in Utah. Hey how about we grab some pizza, I know a place, the owner's a jackass but the stuff they make…. … These clothes itchy. Grom not like. Grom not understand, why Grom need "suit"? Grom need fight clothes, hunt clothes, not funny man clothes.

"What government lab did you pull this one out of? I told you Lorenzo, stop bringing me charity cases or I'll put you on the orchard," the little man in the chair took a puff from a much bigger smoke stick, letting it waft out slowly. Grom could kill in one hit. Even slow hit, man would die.

"Boss, don't you see what I see? This fella is way better than some Russians. Give him a job, just one job. I'll show you what this tank-sized man can manage. You were going to import more muscle, well I found the muscle," Lorenzo said.

"One mark. One try, otherwise he's out. Do you even know a damn thing about your partner here?"

"No, I figured names could come after work. All we gotta do is feed him and give him a bunk Boss, he's the cheapest muscle we ever found," Lorenzo said urgently.

"Drug run, you'll go out with Marco, he's in charge. Your big friend here is just for intimidating the dealer, keep him in line. If the police show you bolt, got it?"

"Yes sir" Lorenzo saluted.

"Alright bub, we go this one in the bag. Just do as I say and we'll all be good."

"More food?" Grom asked.

"Yeah sure thing, more food." … Grom stood behind Lorenzo, occasionally rapping his cudgel against his open palm like Lorenzo had instructed. The smell of contaminated sea water and the occasional passing worker was the only thing he could detect from behind the giant metal boxes. These men are stinky, definitely taste bad. Lorenzo said, these men make funny food that does funny things. Not to eat, but to sell. Sell. how strange, what is sell?

"Hand over the narcs, I've got your payment right here," Lorenzo slapped his hand onto a small brown box.

"Let me check" the drug man gestured from a distance.

"Nah, there's been a bit of a change in the arrangement. Boss says you guys are scamming us. This is half, now hand over the narc," Lorenzo flashed them a shark grin.

"That isn't the deal! You can't double cross us!"

"I just did, now come on, I ain't got all night, this big fella is hungry," Lorenzo gestured at Grom.

"This wasn't the arrangement," the drug man slowly pulled out a small metal object. This man too, one hit, dead. Taste like horse shit. Grom would bet.

"Bub, get ready, shit's gone south," Lorenzo walked back slowly "Hand over the drugs and we won't have any problems here." Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"Lying Italians snakes," the drug man spat "I should have listened to my mom." he brought his arm with the metal thing straight up, pointing at Lorenzo.

"Grom GO!" Lorenzo shouted, jumping back and rolling down. Grom brought the cudgel up into the air. BAM! A bullet bounced off his skin, ricocheting into the metal containers. That hurt. Grom not like these small stinky men. Grom moved forward and brought the cudgel down. The man was now man-paste. Another small metal object rebounded off his bicep, a stinging sensation followed. Not even worth eating. Stinky men should just die. Grom brought his club sweeping across, the other stinky man was now man-paste.

His guts sprayed out onto the pavement in a fan-shape from where Grom's club impacted him.

"By Jesus Christ, what are you?" Lorenzo swore, pulling himself back up "This is the best muscle I have ever seen. Say, I know some pals would pay a pretty dime to use your services." Lorenzo dusted off his suit and walked over to take the narc box with as much grace as he could muster. Hungry. Hungry. Grom wants food.

"Grom wants food."

"Alright buddy, let's go get food." …

"Yeah so, this big fella, he's called Grom. And Grom packs a punch like you wouldn't believe," Lorenzo took a slow sip of wine "He's a special family relation that's just moved into town."

"You'r family is part cave man? I knew Italians were a bit strange, but come on Lo, this is weird even for you," the small man with glasses gestured as he drank down his glass.

"Don't ask questions Mark, are you interested or not? Grom here can handle anything you give him, living or dead, poor or rich, he doesn't discriminate," Lorenzo took another puff. These small men have food, too much food, too small body. One hit dead. One fist also dead. Maybe taste better than stinky men?

"Comepnsation?"

"Food and whatever you think he's worth," Lorenzo grinned, "You don't pay him well, and maybe I'll take my family to where he's appreciated."

"Trial is fine then?"

"Yeah, test him, sure. But don't waste his time," Lorenzo snubbed out the smoke twig on the table. Grom took up the bottle, and down the whole thing straight into his mouth. Both men watched, eyes wide.

"That bottle was $3k."

"They are going to love this guy on the floor, does he do coke?" the glass-eyed man asked.

"He does whatever you'll give him. My boy here can take on anything you trade fuckers do and more. We don't call him Grom the supply-destroyer for no reason," Lorenzo said.

"Alright fine, I'll take him. If he can manage the floor and close some deals in a week, I'll keep him. Compensation will be based on results, drugs and food and lodgings will be on the house," the glass-eyed man leaned forward "can he read?" Lorenzo chuckled, nearly spilling his win "Hell no, but does he need to for your line of work?"

"Nah, I think it's better this way." …

"Ok big guy, this is your first day. You follow me and look scary. No punching or hitting anyone, don't need the cops called here again this week," glass-eye man said, "If you really need to, just yell at them, that should get them to behave. You pick up what I am putting down?" Grom nodded "Grom no hit, but Grom shout to kill weak annoying small men."

"Good enough, let's go, the floor started already." A wide open space full of screens and shouting tiny men in suits.

"Follow me G-man." These tiny men don't smell so bad. Taste good maybe. But too little meat. Too much bone. One of the shouting men began to shove another tiny man, and scream "I was first, I was fucking first put my order in you fucking piece of slimy shit!"

"Alright Grom, first one," glass-eye grabbed the shouting man's shoulder "Cut the shit, calm down or I'll need to escort you out."

"This bastard didn't put my trade through, now I've lost it all, you don't understand. Those were on a loan! ON A LOAN!"

"Alright buddy, time for you to go," glass-eye said "I think you've had enough here."

"Are you fucking kidding? I'm not leaving, I will sue, I will sue you all."

"Grom." Small man, do not kill. Just make realize position. Grom dominant, man weak. Grom stepped forward, fingers clenching around his non-existant cudgel.

"You, leave. Now." Grom grabbed the hem of his suit.

"LEAVE" he shouted at the tiny man, his voice drowning out all of the trade calls and chatter in an instant. The trading room quieted as faces turned towards them.

"Y-y-yes, ok," the tiny man snivelled, backing up and bumping into several people before fleeing out the doors.

"You'd do well in international diplomacy friend, I'm glad I got to you first," glass-eye laughed. Ten hours later, the building close on the dot, the trade floor finally emptying.

"Wow, that was great Larry, where did you find this hunk of meat?" a tiny woman asked.

"My buddy Lo found him somewhere. I don't ask questions. I think we'll need to keep him though," glass-eye turned to him "hey how does, two-fifty k, sound? If your performance keeps up we can talk about raises later. I want to see how you do in business dealings too. I'll handle your housing." This woman, edible.

"Grom ok."

"Sounds good buddy, lets go, drinks and coke are on me tonight." … Grom grabbed another bottle of the strange tasting beers, snapping off the glass top and draining all the liquid down his gullet. He tossed the bottle out the open window.

"Where the fuck did you find this guy Larry, he's got more muscle than a professional wrestler!"

"They pulled him out of a cave in Ohio, he's our new floor manager," Larry answered. Someone handed Grom a small baggy full of white powder.

"Take this up your nose and enjoy bro," he said before disappearing into the crowd. Strange tiny man, strange bag. Powder good? Grom try. Grom crushed baggy in his fist and shoved it directly into nose. Then breathed in deeply. People around him stopped, staring in shock.

"What the fuck?"