The Dogma

Fang Lang sat across from Mr. Hehrbenstrautz, their eyes locked in a tight stare. Mr. Hehrbenstrautz took off his glasses, slowly setting them on the desktop. His eyes shifted to Fang Lang, and he peered as if he was trying to figure something out.

"Nǐ yīgè rén zuò de ma?"

Fang Lang shifted at the sound of Mr. Hehrbenstrautz speaking fluent Chinese. He nodded modestly, answering "Y-yes, I did it alone… sort of. Barely, to be honest — the húndàn (asshole) owned a pet lion, and when I set it free from its enclosure… well, he was still working on domesticating it, I guess."

"Hah! Báichī! (idiot!) Might I say, Fang Lang, your English is very good. Did the Xuan Ye teach you how to talk like that?"

Fang Lang chuckled and shook his head sheepishly. "No, Mr. Hehrbenstrautz. I just watched a lot of American movies as a kid."

"You don't say? I heard you can fight like an animal." Mr. Hehrbenstrautz smirked.

"Yeah, sure, I can scrap." Fang Lang replied coolly.

"Good.. y'know, I bought you from the Xuan Ye because… I could use a man like you, Fang Lang. I have big plans for the Miami Dogma — for your future. Oh, and by the way, call me Mr. Hehrb, Hehrbenstrautz is a fucking mouthful, dear God."

"Alright. Sure thing, Mr. Hehrb." Fang nodded resolutely.

"Have you met the boys?" Mr. Hehrb's blue eyes crinkled with delight behind his glasses and his grin conveyed mischief.

"Uh- no, I don't think so. The only person I've talked to so far is you, and your assistant."

"Benji!" Mr. Hehrbenstrautz called out, and Benji opened the door on cue, seemingly as if summoned. "Take this yángcōng (onion) to meet the boys. They're gonna love you, Mr. Lang."

The sarcasm in his employer's voice slightly annoyed Fang Lang, but he stood up from the seat and followed Benji out of the office. Benji lead him to what looked to be a living room, and there was even a small sign on the wall that read, "Main Living Room."

Sitting on the large, stretching couch in the living room were five men, all of them oblivious to their presence. All of them were dark-skinned, Fang Lang observed, but he didn't see it as something that mattered.

The youngest one of the five — caramel-skinned, dreaded hair, about 19 years old — yelled out "FUCK THIS SHIT!" and threw the gaming controller he held in his hand, then turned off the large, flat screen TV on the wall.

"Pitt, how many times am I gon' have to tell you to stop that raging shit, it's a fuckin' game, nigga," another black man — also with dreads — sitting on the couch polishing a Glock, said with a scowl. "Matta' fact, you need to get off that shit anyway, go make some money or sum', shit."

The kid rolled his eyes, standing up from the couch to grab a blunt that was being passed from the other side. The man passing the blunt wore a dourag and a black pack on his shoulders. He coughed as he let the blunt go.

"Come on, Dober, you know Pitt can't get off the game," the guy said, grinning. "And it just sounds like you a bad influence, you tellin' him to go sell drugs, haha!"

The one polishing the gun, Dober, rolled his eyes. "You know what I've been noticicing recently, Dane? You always sticking up for him. You gotta crush on that nigga or sum?"

"Nigga, shut yo angry-bird ass up," Dane responded with a light-hearted laugh, then he gestured to the blunt that Pitt, the gamer, was holding out to Dober. "Dober. Puff puff, pass, nigga."

Dober looked up from the gun he was polishing and took the blunt, then inhaled. He exhaled, nodding. "Hell yeah… you want some of this, Bully?" Dober turned to speak to the man sitting beside him, wearing a red jacket and rocking a buzz cut. As they smoked, he was cutting up bricks of coke alongside another man, an intimidating figure who looked to be the leader of the group.

Bully shook his head. "Nah, nah, I'm helping Shepherd with this, man, you hit that shit."

"Suit yourself." Dober hit the blunt, then out of nowhere, his eyes glazed across Fang Lang and Benji. "Ay yo… who's this, Benji?"

The rest of the group stopped what they were doing and looked up, all of them staring at Fang Lang. Dober scoffed.

"Who the fuck is this 'Ching-Chong" lookin' ass—

"This is the brand new addition to the Miami Dogma company, Mr. Banks," Benji said without skipping a beat. "Fang Lang, allow me to introduce you to the 'Dogs' of the Miami Dogma. The youngest of the team is Daniel Creed, code name Pitt. The one with the dourag is Louie Hernandez, code name Dane. The man polishing the gun there is Jaden Banks, code name Dober. The two cutting up coke are Donny Hughes and Adam Banks, code names Bully and Shepherd. Shepherd is your leader."

Benji turned to the group. "I'm sure in due time you will all see how fine of an addition Fang Lang is — this man is the man who single-handedly assassinated Aadan Omari, the African drug lord who'd been hiring cronies overseas to steal from our warehouses and ship our assets to Africa. Thus, Mr. Hehrbenstrautz has deep respect for him. He comes from the Xuan Ye tong, therefore I'd say he's seen more action than all the five of you combined. Treat your new coworker with respect, and I'm sure he will do the same in return. Now then, I will leave you gentleman to your activities."

There was a silence that filled the room as Benji exited the Main Living Room. The five men looked at Fang Lang with suspicion. The leader, the bearded one known as Shepherd, lit a cigarette and raised it to his lips.

"Welcome to the Miami Dogma, kid. You just went from being worth as much as shit on the streets to being a rich man."