All Green Lights, Explosion in Front of the Police Station

How do you fight against cheaters?

After all, Merlin's existence was practically a wallhack, and he was an elite Marine himself—if he still got hurt, that would really be inexcusable.

This was a suburb of Hell's Kitchen, where the core members of the Mexican Irish gang were all gathered.

Wiping out the gang meant killing off all the core members; the peripheral thugs, without the gang's backing, would disband on their own.

If he tried to take them all out at once, the gang members were countless and scattered everywhere—even if he found them, traveling would waste a huge amount of time.

"He's heading toward 36th Avenue. According to the predicted route, his destination should be the Brooklyn District police station. You'd better take him out before they get there."

"I don't want to do this mission a second time."

Merlin's urging voice crackled through the earpiece.

Frank's eyes widened at the words. He raised his gun and shot the still-breathing gang lieutenant dead, then leaped from the window, landing on the first floor in just a few breaths.

Once in the car, he quickly started the engine and sped off along the route Merlin had plotted.

"Take another road. If you keep going like this, by the time you catch up, the target will already be at the station." Merlin frowned after calculating the distance between them, then pulled up Apple City's map and began rerouting.

"Looks like I'll have to hack in."

After confirming the new route, Merlin didn't hesitate. He minimized the map window and started typing code into the terminal.

"One kilometer ahead, there's an intersection. Turn left and get on the Ring Road."

"Don't let off the gas if you see a red light—just blast through."

"Got it!" Frank had already seen what Merlin could do and agreed without a second thought.

Frank's Bevel Magic Treasure quickly entered the Ring Road, naturally drawing plenty of attention along the way. Though it was late, there were still plenty of cars on Brooklyn's city streets.

Many people pulled out their phones and filmed the spectacle out of curiosity.

Soon, Frank came to his first traffic light. From a distance, he could see the red warning signal.

But remembering Merlin's instructions, Frank didn't slow down, racing ahead at full speed.

"Ding!" The red light flickered once and instantly turned green. Frank's car shot through like a phantom.

For the rest of the trip, Frank drove the Bevel Magic Treasure through green light after green light, even after leaving the Ring Road and entering the city proper.

Along the way, some drivers who had finally waited for a green light were stunned to see it flash green for just a second before turning red again, as if mocking them.

The Bevel Magic Treasure swaggered right past them.

Brooklyn District.

Though not as bustling as Manhattan, it was rife with ethnic neighborhoods, and the clash of cultures made it lively.

Shalil Alvis was a Mexican. His main business was, of course, his old trade—selling herbs—and he had gathered a group of Mexicans in Hell's Kitchen to form a gang, primarily partnering with the Irish.

Every month, he paid off the Brooklyn sheriff, and nothing ever happened. He made far more than he ever did in herb-rich Mexico.

But today, he never expected that the idiot who had taken him to court before would barge into his hideout alone, killing his men one after another like the Grim Reaper.

"Fuck, I raised them for nothing—useless pieces of shit!" Thinking about how one man had destroyed his entire operation, he slammed the steering wheel in rage.

To make things worse, every light along the way was red, as if deliberately working against him, making his mood even fouler.

At least after this intersection, he'd reach the police station, which calmed him a little.

"Ding!" The light turned green, and the car ahead slowly started moving.

"Shit, can you hurry it up?" Seeing the sluggish car in front, he angrily honked his horn.

But that seemed to piss off the driver ahead, who had been about to move but suddenly stopped.

"Fuck!" Shalil gritted his teeth and slammed the horn, a piercing wail echoing through the night sky.

But the next moment, something dumbfounding happened. The light that had just turned green flicked back to red.

The dawdling driver ahead was stunned too.

"What the hell?" Just as he was about to floor it and run the light, a modified car, barely as high as his SUV's chassis, turned right and pulled into the lane beside him.

Inside that car, a familiar man aimed a shotgun at him.

Shalil's face twisted in terror. He instinctively reached for the door handle to jump out.

But it was too late. Frank had already pulled the trigger, and the Explosive Rounds roared out!

"Bang!"

"Boom!"

On the street, a black SUV exploded on the spot, and Shalil inside perished in the blaze.

"Oh my god, the whole place is going to blow!" The driver ahead jumped in fright and, ignoring the traffic light, sped away from the explosion site.

Frank holstered his shotgun. Revenge was his. The blazing SUV gave him a fleeting moment of satisfaction.

"These cops are pretty quick on the draw. You planning to turn yourself in or become the City of Light?" Merlin's voice rang out again.

"Woo-woo-woo-woo..." The piercing wail of sirens echoed through the city streets as police cars sped toward Frank from all directions.

"By the way, you're already four-star now. Being a five-star good citizen wouldn't be bad either—first to unlock it gets a mysterious reward."

"I checked; the cops behind you are all in cahoots with the local racial gangs, so no need to worry about collateral damage. What do you say?"

Frank could clearly hear the excitement and thrill in the other's voice through the earpiece, as if Merlin was eagerly anticipating a big rampage.

But now that his vengeance was complete, he only wanted a quiet place. He didn't bother asking what four-star or five-star meant.

"The mission's done, right?" he asked.

"Well, what a shame." Merlin on the other end clearly understood his intent and couldn't hide a note of regret.

"As long as you escape the police pursuit, the mission counts as complete."

"If you can't get away, I can come pick you up—but that'll cost you another ten percent cut."

The initial twenty percent, plus the three percent from the bet, meant Merlin would take a total of thirty-three percent—nearly half.

"Fine!" Frank steadied his breathing, glanced at the police cars closing in behind him, and picked up speed.

But soon, Frank's face grew grim as he spotted helicopters circling in the night sky above.

Something wasn't right.

"Merlin! What's going on? Why did the police presence suddenly increase?" Suspicious of Merlin's abilities, he couldn't help wondering if the other had orchestrated this.