Fang Zheng had been living quite comfortably lately, but for certain members of the Black-Clad Organization, these days... had been miserable.
Gin, for example...
That day, he had suffered devastating losses. Fang Zheng had shot straight through his shoulder, even blowing up his beloved car. He had lain in the freezing river water for several hours, and after returning, his fever refused to break. It took months before he finally came back to life—if he had not gotten up soon, Vodka would have found him a cemetery plot.
Vermouth had not fared much better. Medical technology was advanced in this era, and Fang Zheng's technique had been professional enough. Her severed ear had even been reattached, but... in all her years, when had Vermouth ever suffered such humiliation?
She was furious. Incomparably furious!
Gin, Vermouth, and Vodka all wanted nothing more than to catch that bastard and devour his flesh and blood alive.
However, as important figures within the organization, they still had their wits about them. Once their rage subsided, they immediately began investigating—just who was that bastard?
First, Gin and the others were certain that he was definitely not from some government organization like the FBI. After all, they had played this game with those organizations plenty of times. To put it bluntly, everyone more or less observed the "rules of the underworld." Organizations like the FBI and MI6 would not attack them in public, and they likewise would not attack those people in public.
Even when Gin went to kill undercover agents, he would pick a warehouse or sneak into someone's home. No one had ever seen him charging down the street with a submachine gun, spraying bullets around like in some Hollywood shootout.
Simply put, they could not create too much public panic. Otherwise, if they