Silencing the Witnesses

In the quiet, desolate alley, a sound like a torrential downpour resounded.

It was the whooshing sound of a club tearing through the air, the cracking sound of bones shattering, the pitiful howls, the beating of flesh; the shimmering purple shadow reflected the ethereal image, filling the damp, cold air with the smell of burning.

Xilei Hall, a young and handsome Albania, was pale as he slowly slumped against the wall, every bone in his body aching.

His companion's screams still echoed in his ears. He looked up at the sky from the dilapidated street. The surrounding sounds gradually faded away, leaving only his heavy breathing and clear heartbeat.

The day felt unreal, like I'd taken too many drugs.

In the gang's "business," he was the strategist.

He uses his fashionable attire, handsome appearance, and warm smile to lower the guard of naive and unworldly young women who have unrealistic fantasies about London. His workplace is usually in areas such as train stations and airports, where he observes young women who are alone and looking around, then strikes up conversations with them, extends invitations, and suggests traveling together—either to find out their address or personal details, or simply to drug them.

He had been doing this for years, but he had to admit that none of the many prey he had helped capture could compare to the girl he saw today.

Pure yet fiery, innocent yet alluring.

He was restless, his masculine possessiveness burning like never before. He even wanted to keep this elfin girl as his own private property, rather than hand her over to the gang to make money—he believed that every gang member who had seen her would make the same choice.

But just as he was about to put his plan into action and considering how to keep it a secret from his two companions, an unexpected incident occurred.

He encountered an unimaginable situation.

As Albania gangster, he was about to harm an innocent girl when he was stopped by a righteous hero who suddenly appeared.

The opponent, wearing the hood of the President of the America, wielded a purple thermoplastic elastomer threaded beaded Dior sword, and flew towards them like a Jedi Knight.

He said three sentences in total.

"No one understands crime better than me."

Then Xilei was swept against the wall by a hanging object.

"China will only slow down my Dior release schedule."

Then his giant, who was over 1.9 meters tall and weighed over 200 pounds and was extremely skilled in street brawls, was hit in the chin with a stick, sending him flying a meter into the air before crashing to the ground.

"A nine-headed turtle is flashing continuously!"

The English sentence was even stranger, but to Xilei's horror, with that shout, the terrifying purple thing instantly produced a shocking phantom, as if nine large Dio were launching a frenzied attack on his small companion from different directions in an instant.

A series of terrifying explosions sounded like hail hitting a window. His companion's body trembled as if electrocuted, he staggered backward, and then crashed to the ground, never to rise again.

He tried to run away, but fear prevented him from getting up.

He watched in disbelief as "Trump" deftly sheathed his sword like a Japan samurai in a movie.

He even hallucinated, because two large black characters suddenly appeared out of thin air. If he understood Chinese, he would have recognized them as...

--Indiscriminate killing.

Oh my god.

What exactly happened?

What the hell is going on?

Even if you call the police for help, they probably won't believe you.

While preparing to commit the crime, he was suddenly attacked by a man wearing A Chuan hood who wielded a toy weapon. The terrifying object in the man's hand even managed to cut through the Nepalese kukri that his friend had pulled out.

Xilei could no longer hold back and shouted, "Help! Help! Call the police! Call the police now!"

"Trump" turned to look at him.

The Albania suddenly shut his mouth.

He swore that he finally had a real sense of the power and might of the United States of Amerikkka. The economic, military, and cultural hegemony of that country had materialized into a terrifying entity at this moment, so that even just the sight of their president wearing a hood could instill a deep-seated fear in him.

--Even if the other party is still holding a gun.

"Trump" is walking towards me.

The footsteps, heavier than the darkness itself, made the damp, chilly air of North London even more gloomy. The tall figure cast a Shadow over the poor Albania, just like what had happened in the last century and this century... This country intimidates and exploits the whole world.

The damp, cold air carried an even more chilling atmosphere, and the silent, dilapidated streets seemed to mimic A Chuan's posture, creating a terrifying ambiance. Time seemed to stand still, perhaps for less than a second, but even if it were just a fleeting image, it would be a vivid memory for Xilei, who was picked up by soap in London prison.

With a dignified posture and an angry face, he stood resolutely, his stubborn hairstyle pointing defiantly to the sky. Time seemed to stand still in this moment, as the standing conman and the seated human trafficker stared at each other.

The cold sun, devoid of any warmth, was perfectly blocked by A Chuan's hood, leaving only a halo of icy light embedded behind the Grand Commander's head. This obscured his angry and imposing face in an unbearable Shadow, causing Xilei, who looked up and witnessed this scene, to hold his breath.

Answer my question.

The voice carried an undeniable authority.

"Are you some kind of Albania gangster?"

Xilei blinked, his lips trembling, his eyes darting around. Recovering from immense fear, he cried out, "Sir, no, Mr. President, I..."

With a bang, he felt a sharp wind graz his cheek, and a purple shadow attacked like a venomous snake, splintering at his face. The next moment, the terrified Albania came to his senses. He looked to his side, his pupils shrinking, and saw that the purple weapon had broken through the old, mottled wall and was deeply embedded in it.

"You damned bastard."

The Grand President's accent was vivid and expressive. "If you waste any more of my time, I promise I'll string you up with this thing and make you into a BBQ. Now, answer my question: Do you work for the Albania mafia? Do you do things for them? Kidnap and seduce young girls for your gang?"

Xilei stammered, "Sir, they forced me to do this. I... I didn't want to hurt them. Please don't hurt me. I swear I'll back out immediately. I..."

Just as Kang De was about to take action, Horus spoke through an earpiece.

"The recording of their conversation has just been submitted to the domestic authorities. Qin Mengjin sent back a message saying that the man just told his two companions to be careful, as he wanted to confirm whether the person you're trying to seduce has any powerful connections. In his words, 'I heard someone got into trouble last night, we can't pick up another hot potato.'"

Kang De's gaze turned cold.

He drew his weapon, reached out and pulled the handsome man to his feet, and said coldly, "Did your gang kidnap two China girls last night, which led to a police chase? Answer my question!"

Xilei gasped for breath, "I... I don't know anything! I..."

Releasing his right hand, Kang De let the other man sit back on the ground. He turned and picked up the short man who was rolling and struggling on the ground, slamming him down beside him. Looking at the disheveled and pained face, he asked, "I'm asking you, shorty, did your gang kidnap two China girls last night?"

The short man was clearly a tough guy; upon hearing this, he mustered his strength and shouted, "We won't let you go!"

He spat out a mouthful of saliva, revealing a provocative sneer.

Kang De turned his head to avoid the other person, looked at them, and nodded.

"Wrong answer," he said casually. "Oil, ah, Field."

The next moment, rays of light emanated from beneath the short man's rough, dark skin.

He screamed in agony as Flame erupted from the inside of his skin, his hair twisted, his body thrashed, his clothes caught fire, thick smoke billowed from his seven orifices, flames burst from his open mouth, moisture struggled rapidly, his carbon-based flesh charred black after catching fire, his nervous system was destroyed, his vocal cords ruptured, he was first unable to scream, and then lost the strength to struggle. Just inches away from Xilei, his companion was burned to a pile of charcoal.

"Aaaaaaah! Get him away from me! Don't do this! Don't do this!"

Although this terrifying process did not last long, it was a thousand times more terrifying than mere intimidation. Familiar companions screamed and struggled desperately. The faces in his memory turned into burning fireballs, twisted into black skulls, right beside him, not far away. He smelled the terrible stench in his nostrils and felt the intense heat on his skin—in an instant, Xilei's psychological defenses completely collapsed.

It wasn't just the tragic fate of their companions.

There are also Trump's terrifying methods.

It causes people to spontaneously combust without fire, resulting in a miserable death.

This is torture.

This is...

Demon.

Kang De flicked his wrist, and the charred corpse crumbled into dust. He grabbed the man's neck, glanced at the large man who was screaming in terror and desperately crawling backward, and said calmly, "You have one more companion, so you have one more chance. Want me to give you another hint?"

That powerful right hand was already burning hot.

Death was imminent. Xilei could even smell the burning of his own skin—a hallucination, but enough to shatter him completely. The handsome young man cried out, "It wasn't us! Really, it wasn't! We're different gangs! They're the Viking Skull, we're the Sweetheart Boys!"

Kang De said coldly, "What kind of shitty name is that!?"

"It's a difference in methods and style! They're used to direct robbery and kidnapping, while our methods are more subtle! Home invasion and kidnapping isn't our style!"

Xilei was terrified and cried out repeatedly, "It really wasn't us! I swear!"

"You just said you wanted to find out her identity, and then you said someone ran into trouble last night?"

"Yes, yes, yes! It's the Viking Skull! I heard they kidnapped someone they shouldn't have!" Xilei exclaimed. "I heard it from our boss! They were searching for someone like madmen last night!"

Who to look for?

The other person cried and sobbed, "I don't know! I really don't know! Please believe me!"

"Never mind, it doesn't matter."

Kang De asked in a deep voice, "Where is that Viking Skull's lair? Do you know?"

The other party nodded repeatedly, like a chicken pecking at rice. "I know! I know! I went to negotiate with the boss a week ago!"

Kang De pulled a London address from his pocket and threw it in front of the other man. "Mark it down, and write down the exact location—and your hideout."

Xilei's body trembled.

"If you've lied to me," Kang De said calmly, "You were in a rush just now, your brave friend was roasted over a high flame, but if you've lied to me, you'll have to simmer over a low flame."

The Albania glanced at the map a few times, then looked up and pleaded, "Sir, I really want to help you, but the gang's hideout doesn't have a specific address; it's all dark and secretive illegal buildings—I can take you there! Is that alright?"

Kang De looked into the pleading and hopeful eyes of the other man, and smiled, "You can—get up."

Xilei scrambled to his feet, bowing and scraping, his eyes revealing a will to live.

Kang De ignored it. He glanced at the fetish avatar he had conjured with the Mist Crystal. He had originally intended to turn her into a short, charred figure for a secret infiltration or something, but then he thought it was too disgusting and he didn't deserve it—besides, secret my ass, he could just hack his way in and be done with it.

He waved his hand, and the Phase Door opened, the beautiful girl disappearing into the end of the space.

Then, to Xilei's astonishment, Kang De's figure gradually became transparent and merged into nothingness, with only his voice echoing in the alley.

"Go straight to the Viking Skull headquarters," he said. "I'll be with you. Don't try anything funny, let's go."

Xilei Hall glanced hesitantly at his other companion, the big guy huddled against the wall, covering his face, shrinking into himself, and crying helplessly...

He wisely remained silent, instead bowing his head and resignedly moving forward.

Kang De's voice was nearby, like a shadow, sending chills down his spine. "You'd better avoid your gang's eyes and ears. Don't try to act fearful or strange to get their attention. Life is precious, and I'll only remind you once—your value and usefulness aren't as great as you think."

Xilei said in a trembling voice, "Yes."

He tried his best to make his movements and expression appear normal as he walked out of the alley. The outside air was damp, cool, and refreshing, at least better than the fear spreading through the alley. Xilei steadied himself and, filled with endless fear and unease, headed toward the hiding place of the Viking Skull in his memory.

A car occasionally drove by on the road, and a few pedestrians passed by. No one knew what had happened in the alley not far away—his cries for help, the screams of his companion being burned to death, the huge noise—yet no one noticed. This phenomenon was strange, yet perfectly logical.

This man wearing the Trump hood is a ruthless demon.

In the alley, the big man, huddled against the wall, cautiously looked up. His companion was nowhere to be seen, and the terrifying demon had vanished as well. The pain in his chin and back still lingered, reminding him that what had just happened was no illusion. He looked at the gloomy sky and burst into tears.

In any case, he was safe; he was saved.

He got up, hesitated for a few breaths, and then ran in the opposite direction.

We need to tell the boss what happened here right away, and not only that, we also need to...

What made you feel like you'd dodged a bullet?

An indescribable, piercing sound, interspersed with metallic clangs, rang out behind me.

He instinctively turned around, his blood freezing in his veins.

In that instant, he thought of the United States movie he watched as a child, the Terminator starring Schwarzenegger.

Yes, a terrifying metallic creature with a skull-like face stood behind him, taller and stronger than him, clad in heavy black armor. The enormous vertical pupil in the center of its breastplate seemed to know all the secrets of the world, and the skull's eyes glowed with an eerie purple light. It stretched out its right hand, and the cold mechanical structure deformed and reassembled into a huge claw blade, playing the notes of death.

"Isn't this form more likely to evoke your fear and awe?"

The big man's mind was in complete chaos. Then he was grabbed by a merciless iron hand and slammed against the wall. The nearly two-meter-tall, over two-hundred-pound man was lifted up with ease. The terrifying voice evoked his primal fear, and he forgot to scream and beg for mercy.

"Oil-fake-ying, you dwarf!"

The Terminator, swearing vehemently, said, "How many times have you succeeded in what you just did? How many innocent women have suffered horrible pain at your hands? Why do you think you can get away with this? It's not that easy. Now I'll play with you. Your gang's hideout, the hideouts of other gangs, all the details, addresses, and specifics of the London mafia that you know."

Before the other party could beg for mercy or explain, he transformed his other hand into a display terminal. At the same time, a drone swept over the dilapidated buildings of North London, providing real-time video feedback.

"Don't know the address? No problem. Just mark the route. You can also try lying."

Horus said ominously, "To be honest, I've been quite irritable lately."

"I've found the person."

Kang De re-established contact with Alina: "Heading to the target location. The gang that kidnapped my friend is likely 'Viking Skull,' and I'm on my way to their headquarters."

"I've heard of this organization," Alina said, her voice filled with disgust. "Violent kidnapping, forced prostitution—even reporters have heard of it, but the police can never catch them."

"That's why I've come," Kang De said, "Today I'll turn them into real skeletons."

Alina hesitated, then finally sighed.

What do you want to say?

"It's a difficult situation. As a media professional, someone with a modern education, and someone who upholds the rule of law, I hope you won't abuse vigilante justice and hand them over to the police. But as a woman who has witnessed the shortcomings of the Britain judicial system, I also hope you can give them the most thorough punishment."

Alina said helplessly, "And, as for the part of your personality that's your friend, I hope you won't kill anyone."

"It's alright," Kang De smiled. "My mental state is perfectly healthy."

"Anyway, saving your friend is the priority."

"That's right."

Xilei walked alone through the increasingly dilapidated and remote streets. He certainly looked like a gangster, and he turned away anyone who tried to talk to him, whether they were selling contraband or trying to extort money—after all, the Albania had a gun on his belt.

We're almost there.

He walked through a dark, damp corridor, the air thick with an unpleasant stench, and muttered, "This area is also one of North London's cheap brothels. Poor people can satisfy their cravings for a few dozen pounds. The Viking Skull hideout is also responsible for disciplining the girls they capture and making them entertain clients."

Kang De asked coldly, "How did you do it?"

Xilei replied, "Hitting, humiliating, gang rape—of course, these are very inefficient methods, usually used to satisfy their own violent desires. The easiest way is to inject them with drugs to make them addicted... When the addiction takes hold, they will agree to any request, abandoning all self-respect, just to get a shot."

Kang De remained silent.

After walking for a while, the dirtiest and darkest side of this international metropolis gradually unfolded.

That is the most unknown side hidden in the glamorous, world-renowned city. Behind the prosperous foreign exchange trading, the beautiful cultural atmosphere and the picturesque legendary city, there is also the commonality of the widening gap between the rich and the poor in capitalist society, the lack of dignity for the poor, and evil entrenched in the dark corners. In the areas that the law and human rights cannot reach, it is a breeding ground for sin and desire to breed unscrupulously.

It was silent, desolate, and dangerous here. Because it was daytime, the people here had become nocturnal creatures. Along the way, you could see the malicious stares from under the broken windows, and hear the wheezing sounds, the sounds of dying, the sounds of joy, the sounds of indulgence, and the sounds of despair from behind the broken wooden doors.

"This... this is it." Xilei weakly pointed to the dark corridor ahead, which appeared to be an abandoned factory. "This is their territory, they..."

A form materialized in the void, Phoenix Fire flashed in Kang De's eyes. "There's no one inside."

"H-How could this be?" Xilei was startled at first, then said, "Oh right, there's no gatekeeper—sir, I really didn't lie to you, I swear, this really is theirs..."

Kang De kicked out and sent the other man flying inside.

The Albania stumbled in, then suddenly let out a scream.

Kang De followed him in.

There was blood on the ground.

Blood flowed in pools, already congealed, corpses were scattered, and there were traces of struggle everywhere. Some corpses dragged long trails of blood, as if they had crawled desperately before death. Tables, chairs, appliances... were all broken and chaotic. A large number of metal fragments were embedded in the walls and human bodies. Some corpses were pierced like hedgehogs. There were even fragments of human tissue and rotten flesh pasted on the walls. It was like a slaughterhouse, bloody and nauseating.

The traces of death stretched from this vast hall all the way to the doorway at the end.

With a loud "whoosh, "Xilei vomited.

Kang De's face was ashen as he pressed the button on his headset. "Horus, is it done?"

"Just finished asking, and the location is already set," Iron Son replied. "We're considering whether to scrape it apart and burn it clean with a plasma beam, or just insert the Paradox Chip and drop it into the White Mist World as a moving target."

"Stop making a fuss," Kang De said in a deep voice. "Come here immediately. The Viking Skull have all been silenced. I'm on the scene and need your reconnaissance advice..."

He paused, gazing at the blood-soaked room.

"This is not a scene that an ordinary person could pull off."

￥￥￥￥￥￥￥￥￥

PS1: Update: Damn, I woke up to find that Cyberpunk 2077 has been delayed again! I'm so angry! Those damn Poland idiots! I'm going to channel my anger into more relentless criticism of the United Kingdom in the upcoming storyline (wait a minute).