He'd gone to work and his workplace was gone.
For Jude, this experience felt like showing up to a tournament and discovering the team had disbanded overnight. To borrow a phrase: after all that fighting, only the word "team" remained. The actual people had disintegrated.
"What happened to everyone at this restaurant? Did they arrest everybody and not let them go?" He stared at the locked door. "Where's Falcone? Someone call Falcone to bail them out!"
He pulled out his phone and called Donald, then Philip. As expected, neither answered. Which made sense—even Falcone couldn't storm the GCPD at night to break people out. That would be excessive even by Gotham standards.
"What about me?!" Jude stood alone outside the Red Dragon, gradually putting on a mask of pain. Like a dog abandoned by its pack. "I'm unemployed again? I'm unemployed before even receiving my end-of-month salary?!"
Technically speaking, he hadn't failed to receive his salary. He'd advanced five thousand dollars at the beginning of the month. But he'd failed to receive the asset point settlement at month's end.
"My five thousand asset points!" He clutched his chest, feeling genuine pain at the lost fortune. "Batman, you're so unprincipled! You've done so many bad things! So inhumane! There are thirty days in a month, but you have to choose payday to raid criminals! I'm so—"
"What's this guy mumbling about sitting on the curb?"
"No idea. Ignore him. Let's go. There are enough crazy people in Gotham. Don't provoke another one."
The two passersby saw the man on the side of the road raise his head and flip them off.
"Rude!"
Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down—
His phone rang. Jude ignored the angry pedestrians and answered.
"Hello? Is this Jude?"
"Donald's currently hospitalized under police surveillance, but he mentioned you to us. I heard you have some pretty impressive skills?"
Holy shit. The Falcone gang had internal referrals. Donald, you magnificent bastard!
"When are we talking about me starting?" Jude wanted to begin immediately, but he asked carefully. "Just to be clear—I can't shoot straight."
"He said you're brave, lucky, and smart. Said you helped the restaurant avoid major trouble."
Considering the psychological damage Philip had suffered during the entire Batman incident, "blocked the trouble" might be more accurate phrasing.
"Yes! That's me!" Jude's gaze became firm and decisive. "Donald is an excellent boss. He recognized my potential immediately. If the restaurant ran into trouble, I'd definitely be first to help!"
Obviously, since arriving in Gotham, his shamelessness had improved fastest besides his driving skills.
"Uh, sure, buddy." The man on the phone seemed slightly overwhelmed by Jude's enthusiasm. After composing himself, he continued. "Anyway, we brothers won't forget what Donald told us. But I heard you're new to Gotham? Haven't joined any gang yet?"
"Yeah. I don't know how to use a gun and I don't dare attack people with knives, so I can only survive by working regular jobs."
"You don't dare attack people, but you dare participate in shootouts?" The man laughed. "Well, having a clean identity isn't bad. Come to work tomorrow. But remember—you're serving the Falcone family and the Maroni family, not those random small-timers in Gotham. Prepare yourself accordingly."
Jude froze.
Wait. Why the hell are the Maronis involved? He'd thought he was barely maintaining plausible deniability, but now he was jumping completely into organized crime?
"Hold on—what kind of job is this?"
"Your old profession. Waiter."
On the same day he lost his job, Jude acquired a new one. He'd become one of the Falcone family's exclusive waiters.
As Gotham City's number one crime family, they naturally maintained appropriate style and grandeur. During holidays and special occasions, the family hosted endless weddings, funerals, various banquets, and social events with other gangs. The waiters were all people the family used year-round or who came recommended by members. Trustworthy. Competent.
In Donald's sharp-eyed assessment, Jude qualified.
Not everyone was willing to work in Gotham under hails of bullets. Not everyone dared participate in gunfights with the Penguin's gang and return home safely every night. Especially without gang affiliation and shooting skills. But Jude's waiter abilities were solid. His luck was bizarrely good. He hadn't joined a gang. Hadn't become an informant for any faction. This showed his mind wasn't overly active.
In other words: he was stupid enough and trustworthy enough.
Jude's actual reasoning: Being an informant doesn't generate asset points.
"Remember—at the end of next month, the Romans are hosting a party on the cruise ship." The trainer's voice was serious. "All of you must prepare in advance. This is extremely important. Falcone and Maroni will both be attending. We cannot afford mistakes. Jude, if you have questions, ask me anytime."
Jude, wearing a formal suit, nodded. Today was his first training day. Honestly, it felt similar to the Red Dragon. Except he had to carry more items. Otherwise, basically identical.
The free time here was considerably more generous. After all, banquets didn't happen daily. Most people worked part-time jobs on the side. People like Jude with nothing else to do were rare.
He held a thick manual containing everything he needed to memorize: banquet menus, drinks, ingredients, service etiquette, event procedures. But his attention wasn't on the manual at all. Instead, he focused on people chatting nearby.
"Johnny, have you heard? Someone's ready to accept the Romans' bounty."
"Is that surprising? That's a bounty from the Godfather himself. Big rewards always attract brave souls. Besides, the Romans won't abandon anyone willing to take risks for them."
"It's some little-known gang. The Irish Gang. Ever heard of them?"
"There are dozens of small gangs around Gotham. Doesn't matter which one tries—only the one who succeeds gets paid."
"I mean—have you ever thought that instead of letting some unknown small gang collect the money, why not we—"
"I advise you to drop that idea. There's a reason the boss doesn't let family members do it. Ever heard of Batman? I don't want to get beaten half to death by that prosecutor, then left outside the police station after dealing with him."
"Batman's also on the list. Full million dollars—"
"Fuck off! If you want to die, don't drag me into it!"