It seemed like a strange, almost fake offer, from an extremely strange man, but it still hit JP. Hard. "Yeah, I took offense.." His voice was soft, almost gentle but there was a certain chill under it that kept it from being that. He paused, lacing his fingers together and staring down at them. Khan was going back for a second plate, the woman was bursting into a new dance routine, and the DJ was segwaying tracks.
For a split moment the whole world froze with JP. He closed his eyes, and just let the sounds, smells, feel hit him for a moment, before speaking back up much more confidently.
"I know I kinda made myself into a jackass at the meet," He glanced over at his second in command, the man stuffing his face with the same vigor as before. "I figured, you know. That some street gangs were backed by real cats, cats like you. Not damn near all of them, though." He sighed, eyes closing again, not meant as disrespectful, just how he was when thinking carefully. "It ain't the way to make money, not real money. You mentioned 'petty beefs', but shit, it's more than that. Whole fucking system is rigged."
Khan nodded, talking through another mouthful of jerked pork. "True that brother, Nillies is a hard place, so muthafuckas gotta be harder. Leads to a bunch of fuckers runnin' 'round pissed off all day like me, gangbangin' on they breakfast, and shit."
"Yeah." JP finally locked eyes with Yves, trying to figure out if this was a set up or not. "I dunno how much time you spent in the streets, man. Petty beef don't touch it. You gotta be harder, stronger than everyone always, ain't nothin' allowed to slide. Some poor cat walks two steps into your block, pushin' shit dope, and he, and you gotta ice him, and his whole crew."
"Mhmn." Khan waved what looked like a chicken leg at his boss, "That how it is, brother. 'Cause if you don't feed that cat a lead sandwich, he and everybody else will be postin' up on you by morning."
"Yeah..And that's what I'm saying. That's not the way to make real green, and you seem to know that Yves. Competition is good for the market, but a warzone drives people right the fuck off." He glanced around the club, having noticed the peddlers in the crowd when he came in. "You got it made up in a crib like this," he motioned towards the dance floor, "But outside, out in the middle of the Nillies, bitches be too afraid to turn the wrong corner when they're out lookin' to score. If shit was consolidated.."
"Everybody sell more dope, and tag less feet in bags.", Khan more or less mumbled the last bit, becoming fixated on the dancer again.
"Yeah. Dead people expensive, wars keep business away." JP rubbed his temples again, reverting his eyes to his shoes. "Seems like everyone at that meet though, they're all happy to have shit divided up. To have everything move at a fraction of what it could be." He shook his head, chuckling. "No though, not if this offer is legit. Shit man, The Nillies could be a goddamn money machine even the bank would want if done right."