Soka had always believed that professional matters should be left to professionals.
He was highly skilled at collecting money, exploiting Ordinary People, and dealing goods. But when it came to combat and training his gunmen, he naturally lacked the expertise. Therefore, such matters had to be handed over to a professional—Mang Kai.
So when he heard Mang Kai say this, he immediately understood. More than a hundred of his men had been unable to handle just a dozen or so attacking enemies. As Mang Kai had said, the attackers were extremely capable, while his own gunmen were somewhat weak. Hearing this left him feeling thoroughly frustrated.
But blaming his subordinates was impossible. He naturally understood that complaining about them at a time like this might produce the opposite effect. His men had fought desperately, and dozens had already died! Since they had put their lives on the line, the enemy's strength and their own weakness were plainly obvious!
The frustration in Soka's heart could not even be voiced. This suffocating feeling was like a fishbone lodged in his throat, unbearably painful! He truly had not expected tonight to go so badly. Could it be that Buddha could no longer hear his prayers and had stopped blessing him? Why had one thing after another gone so damn wrong?
In an instant, he remembered. Could it be that the people from the bar had escaped and then led others here to attack his base? It had to be! If it were anyone else, they could not have received the news so quickly and taken advantage of his misfortune!
As he pondered this, the sound of Buddhist scriptures suddenly rang out. It was Soka's ringtone. As a Cambodian native, he was deeply devoted to Buddha. Although Soka was the leader of the underworld,