I Am Not a Mastermind, But They Think I Planned Everything

Chapter 3: Chapter 3: The Gang That Wasn’t



Chapter 3: The Gang That Wasn't

Jian sat cross-legged on a rough wooden floor, staring at the bowl of porridge in front of him. It was thin, watery, and barely had any flavor, but his stomach had been growling for hours.

He took a cautious sip, trying not to think too hard about where the water had come from.

Around him, other kids—about his age or younger—ate quietly. They sat in small clusters, some whispering among themselves, others focused on their food. Their clothes were tattered but practical, and their faces were smudged with dirt. But what stood out to Jian wasn't how rough they looked.

It was how disciplined they were.

Even in the dimly lit hideout, he noticed the way they moved—controlled, efficient, too quiet. No loud chatter, no mindless bickering like normal kids. Even the way they ate was precise, measured.

Something about it put him on edge.

They weren't just street rats.

Wei plopped down beside him, grinning as he shoveled food into his mouth. "Still looking lost, Shen."

Jian forced a laugh. "Yeah, just… trying to get my head straight."

Wei nudged him. "No worries. You'll be back to normal soon enough."

Back to normal.

Jian barely knew who Shen was supposed to be, and yet, everyone else did.

He decided to dig for more information. "So, uh… remind me again how we all ended up here?"

Wei raised an eyebrow. "You really did hit your head, huh?"

Jian forced a sheepish grin.

Wei stretched his arms. "Well, same as always. We get picked up when we're little, right? No family, no home. The gang takes us in, teaches us how to survive."

"Right…" Jian stirred his porridge. "And the boss? What's he like?"

Wei scoffed. "Like you don't know. Boss Zhan's strict, but he keeps us alive. We do our jobs, we eat. We screw up, well…" He made a slicing motion across his neck.

Jian gulped. "No second chances, huh?"

"Not in this world," Wei said. Then he grinned. "But you wouldn't know that. You've never screwed up before."

Jian stiffened. Shen never screwed up? That meant he was expected to be good at this.

Before he could panic, a shadow loomed over them.

Lian.

She stood with arms crossed, watching Jian with a sharp gaze. "You done eating? Boss wants to see you."

Jian's stomach twisted.

"The boss?" he echoed.

"Yeah," Lian said. "He wants to know if you're still useful."

Jian glanced at Wei, but even his usual smirk had faded.

That was not a good sign.

---

The Boss

Jian was led through a maze of tunnels, the air growing colder and damper with every step.

The deeper they went, the more unsettling it became.

The hideout wasn't just some rundown den of thieves. It was too structured. Too organized. Jian noticed training dummies tucked away in side rooms, racks of weapons disguised under cloth, and strange symbols carved into the walls.

Nothing about this felt like a simple gang of street kids stealing to survive.

But Jian didn't have time to question it.

Lian stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. She knocked once.

"Enter."

She pushed it open and gestured for Jian to go inside.

Jian hesitated, then stepped through.

The room was dimly lit by a few lanterns, casting long shadows against the walls. A large table sat in the center, maps and documents scattered across it.

Behind it stood a man.

He wasn't large, but something about him felt… dangerous. His presence filled the room like a storm waiting to break. His sharp eyes flicked up, locking onto Jian.

"You're alive," the man said. His voice was calm, but there was something in it that made Jian's skin crawl.

Jian straightened. "Uh, yeah."

The boss—Zhan—studied him. "Lian says you acted strangely today."

Jian tensed. "I, uh… just needed to clear my head."

Zhan watched him in silence. Then he turned and picked up a dagger from the table. He tossed it at Jian's feet.

Jian barely stopped himself from jumping back.

"Pick it up," Zhan ordered.

Jian hesitated. "Why?"

Zhan's eyes narrowed. "Did you forget where you are?"

Jian swallowed hard. He bent down and picked up the dagger, its weight cold in his hands.

Zhan stepped forward. "A merchant convoy will pass through the west gate at dawn. Your group will handle it. You know the drill."

I absolutely do not know the drill.

Jian kept his expression neutral. "Of course."

Zhan studied him one last time, then nodded. "Don't fail."

Jian exhaled as he was dismissed. He left the room, gripping the dagger tight.

He had so many questions.

Who really was Shen? What was this place?

And most importantly—how the hell was he supposed to pull off a robbery without getting killed?

End of Chapter 3


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