The Most Stylish Top Dog

12/2/2025

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As soon as the words left his mouth, that guy and his crew of punks swarmed over. The fortune-tellers around didn’t want any trouble, so they’d already slipped away, leaving only Old Ironmouth and Shawn Young surrounded in the middle.

Old Ironmouth squinted his blind eyes, stretched his neck out to sniff the air, then forced a laugh and said, "Oh! So it’s Top Dog! Haven’t seen you in a while, and I gotta say, you’re looking even more handsome these days—"

Top Dog strode right up to Old Ironmouth, gave him a shady look, spat out his toothpick and barked, "Blind Zhou, you old stick, still playing mysterious? Screw you, you old cat! Cut the crap, and don’t call me handsome—I know I’m not! You can say I’m cool, say I’ve got taste, say I’ve got style, whatever, but don’t call me handsome, got it? That’s just fake as hell!"

Old Ironmouth’s face changed, and he quickly switched his tone: "Well, I can’t see, right? In my mind, Top Dog, you’re the handsomest guy in all of Hong Kong—"

But Top Dog wasn’t interested in Old Ironmouth’s greasy flattery. He glanced at the calm Shawn Young, then gave Old Ironmouth a fake smile and asked, "Blind Zhou, who’s this kid? What’s he to you?"

"Oh—this young man’s just a customer. He didn’t get a chance to leave, that’s all. Top Dog, he’s just business, nothing else—he’s got nothing to do with any of this," Old Ironmouth hurried to say.

Top Dog shot Shawn Young a glance, then pursed his lips and asked, "Kid, where you from?"

"Oh—I just came over from the mainland for some sightseeing. Heard Temple Street was fun, so I thought I’d check it out," Shawn Young replied, deliberately putting on a "nervous" face.

"Heh—so you’re a mainlander, huh! No wonder you’re dressed so old-school!" Top Dog said to Shawn Young with a cocky grin. After all, Shawn’s outfit was pretty simple: just a white shirt and black pants, looking fresh and clean.

"Uh—" Shawn Young was speechless at being called old-fashioned, since his taste in clothes was nothing like Top Dog’s.

"Heh, coming all the way from the mainland to Temple Street—bet you’re here to chase girls, huh? Kid, you’re not bad looking. If you dressed with a bit more style, like me, I guarantee the ladies would be lining up for you—no need to go looking for street hookers! Just hope your little buddy can keep up, ha ha—" Top Dog grinned wickedly, "helpfully" giving Shawn Young some advice.

Shawn Young laughed and praised him, "Oh! Makes sense, makes sense! Top Dog, you’re really talented and stylish! Just looking at your trendy mix-and-match outfit, anyone can tell you’re at the cutting edge of Hong Kong’s gangster fashion! You’re basically the reincarnation of Brother Mark!"

Top Dog’s face finally softened. He shot a sideways glance at the crowd, then suddenly said to Shawn Young, "Heh, didn’t expect a mainland kid to have some taste. You pass—for now. Nothing else to see here, you can go!"

Old Ironmouth quickly put on a smile and said, "Thanks, Top Dog! Heh, since there’s nothing else, we’ll be on our way." With that, he grabbed Shawn Young and tried to leave.

But Top Dog suddenly put a hand on Old Ironmouth’s shoulder and said, "Hey! Blind Zhou, I said the mainland kid could go—I never said you could!"

Old Ironmouth’s face turned serious and he hurriedly said, "Uh, Top Dog, I—I haven’t done anything to offend you, right? At most, I’ll pay you double for that last fortune-telling session. Besides, you know this place is Big Water’s turf—I pay protection to him every month. You could at least give Big Water some face and let me go!"

Top Dog sneered, turned his head, and patted Old Ironmouth’s skinny old face, saying word by word, "Blind Zhou, you want me to give you face? Who the hell do you think you are? Get it straight—this is Temple Street, our Hung Brotherhood turf! I’m Hung, so I know the rules about boundaries. Sure, Big Water runs this block, but you think I need you to remind me about my relationship with him? Don’t treat me like an idiot. I’ll tell you why I’m here tonight—I’m here to smash your reputation!"

Old Ironmouth’s heart skipped a beat and he quickly said, "Uh, no way? Top Dog, you’re joking, right? Smashing reputations—this must be a misunderstanding, just a misunderstanding—"

Top Dog snorted, "Misunderstanding my ass! Blind Zhou—you said Yang Dingtian would definitely win over Susan Belle. Well, I’ve been chasing her for over half a month, and she hasn’t even given me a chance to confess! You said she’d show up tonight, let me meet her—damn it, I waited all day, it’s already night and I haven’t seen a single hair of her! Blind Zhou, you’re full of crap. You think I’m an idiot?"

Old Ironmouth’s face tensed as he explained, "Top Dog, I—I didn’t lie to you. What I meant was, you’d meet the woman you’re thinking of, but—but—"

"But what? Screw you, you old cat—Blind Zhou, spit it out! If you don’t give me a good answer, you’re dead meat—" Top Dog snapped, clearly losing patience.

"If I tell you the truth, Top Dog, you—you won’t get mad, right?" Old Ironmouth said hesitantly. He was good at reading people, but not much of a fighter, so he couldn’t afford to cross someone like Top Dog.

"I won’t get mad—I just want to know the answer. Whatever it is, I can handle it. But if I don’t see her tonight, Blind Zhou, you’re screwed! I came to Temple Street just to wait for you—" Top Dog said fiercely.

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