You Had Your Chance, But You Couldn't Handle It

Mr. Pan sat in his temporary office at the southern suburban manor.

This is his home, where his family resides.

It all started in an unnamed town in Bailong County, Clearwater Bay. This hybrid of a calamity beast was initially just a laborer for Lawrence Madison, making a living by unloading cargo at the dockyard and occasionally selling appetizers for the big boss. Today, he manages more than 300 brothers of the King's Gang, and his company has more than 1,000 employees. He is considered a well-known gentry in Tear City.

"You did something dishonest, Cock." Mr. Pan rested his hands on his knees, his muscular body sinking into the soft velvet sofa. His eyes were dark and bright, and his face was full of wrinkles. It was clear that this mixed breed was a bulldog.

The three brothers—cat, dog, and mouse—are all together, but Cock is filled with resentment.

The mouse wanted to complain to Mr. Pan about how difficult the job was, but Mr. Pan was indifferent to his injuries.

Before Cock could speak, Mr. Pan immediately reprimanded him.

"Ammona and Daphne have escaped, and now they're free to roam the skies. The gang has suffered a loss—this is my dereliction of duty."

The mouse immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

Mr. Pan continued, "But don't you bear any responsibility at all?"

When a wise leader encounters a problem, he always has two choices: push it upwards or delegate it downwards.

This is not only the political wisdom that Chinese civilization has been far ahead of others for five thousand years, but it also exists in the gang ecosystem of the City of Tears. It still exists around us, in every company, and even on campus.

Mouse -Cock clearly didn't understand this strange logic.

"I've done my best, boss!"

When subordinates argue with their leaders about right and wrong, it's no longer a question of right and wrong, but a question of superiors and subordinates.

Mr. Pan was somewhat impatient and didn't even bother to look at Cock.

How did Ammona escape?

"There's a priest!" Cock argued. "This guy knows witchcraft! He bewitched Luo Kang and even traveled all the way to Santa Monica! He..."

Mr. Pan: "He single-handedly took down twenty-three people from the Santa Monica branch? Including you?"

"Yes! That's right!" Cock immediately said, "He's too cunning! The brothers can't play their cards freely in the card room because he's tricked them!"

Mr. Pan: "You have guns."

"Isn't this to prevent accidental discharge and injury?" Cock explained.

Mr. Pan: "Oh, is the enemy too powerful?"

Cock apologized repeatedly, finally realizing the problem.

"I'm so sorry, boss."

In the courtyard outside the window, guests were celebrating the birthday of Mr. Pan's eldest son, a little bulldog who had just turned eighteen and was dressed smartly and looked very dashing.

Finally Yiven, the serval who had been silent all along, stepped forward and said a few good words for Cock.

"Boss Pan, we acknowledge Cock's abilities."

Mr. Pan immediately interrupted, "So he's still alive, which is why I say I also bear responsibility—I shouldn't have let him handle this. Since it was a failure, I have to swallow the bitter pill of failure."

"Daphne's father owes us 440,000, and we definitely can't get that debt back."

"I didn't have high expectations to begin with. You can't trust the drug lord. If this guy hadn't betrayed his wife, I would have already taken Daphne and Ammona back to the gang."

"I've practically watched Daphne grow up. She's a capable and courageous person."

Mr. Pan waved his hand, Cock to sit down and not be so nervous and formal.

"If we send her to steal money from the Tear City station, she can bring back fourteen thousand dollars a week, and that's just in small amounts. If we get the ID cards and HELLCAT—which will force passengers to pay ransoms—we can talk to the Police Department about the ransom."

"No cop wants to guard against thieves for a thousand days; they all just pay an insurance premium and call it a day. That's Ammona's value. If Daphne works for a year, we can earn a million."

"The militia couldn't catch this nimble little sparrow, and we finally caught Ammona, only to let her slip away—but Cock, you say it's all because of someone from Brenwell."

Mr. Pan described it in a very serious manner.

"A priest in Evangelical Church who also works as a psychologist?"

Cock lowered his eyes, clasped his hands between his thighs, and nodded nervously.

"Yes."

Mr. Pan: "He had no gun, no knife, and no spiritual power."

Cock: "Yes."

Mr. Pan: "They bought two wrenches and a pipe wrench from the grocery store at the street corner, and beat our Brother No. 23 so badly he was nearly killed and seriously injured?"

Cock: "Yes."

"When I first heard about this from Yiven, I just found it unbelievable." Mr. Pan rolled his eyes. "For a moment, I even thought that you might have taken a bribe from Daphne to let the two sisters go. You've become a great philanthropist, doing good deeds without considering the future."

"But when you're in front of me, my heart softens."

Mr. Pan kicked Cock's injured leg.

"Look at you, you're over forty and still fighting on the front lines. When thugs came to the reception room, you had to fight them to the death. Universal Elixir nor White Lady's products can cure you."

"What do you think I should do with you, Cock? Your dejected look breaks my heart."

Mouse- Cock his head dejectedly, thinking about retirement. Perhaps Mr. Pan would never use or trust him again, and would ask him to retire and return to his hometown.

"Let's get back to the priest." Seeing that Cock's mood had finally improved, Mr. Pan felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing he no longer needed to use carrot and stick tactics to win people over or discuss who was right and who was wrong with his subordinates. "Have you investigated his background?"

Yiven: "The informant at the Police Department has reviewed the file; he's just an ordinary person who knows knightly combat techniques."

Cock: "He's very skilled in hand-to-hand combat."

"Is he Bruce Lee? Or Bruce Lee Chan? Is he a movie star? Kung Fu?" Mr. Pan couldn't help but chuckle. "Is he the 'Fast Knife' guy? How powerful are his knightly combat skills?"

Cock quickly explained, "I can't feel it."

Mr. Pan: "Violence is a commodity. In this era, violence can be bought; it's a form of insurance. The era of the gunsmith hero's expeditions has ended, and many unemployed mercenaries need new bosses. My manor is full of talented people. I'm not afraid of this hothead."

As he said this, Mr. Pan asked again.

"This priest came to St. Monica Street to cause you trouble because he was standing up for Daphne?"

After thinking for a long time, Cock finally nodded.

He said he would give me a chance.

"Oh no, no no, it's God giving me a chance."

"As long as I don't cause trouble for the Daphne sisters, we're even. I'll continue selling my appetizers, and he can continue chanting his sutras."

"How could I stand to be wronged like this! He started it!"

Cock cried out his innocence, as if he had suffered a great injustice.

"I'm calling the brothers for help! We need to catch this ungrateful idiot, interrogate him myself, and then bring Daphne back."

Mr. Pan: "This person now..."

Yiven: "He was captured by the militia at the Transportation Department branch."

Mr. Pan: "Did he turn himself in?"

Cock: "That's right, he must be feeling guilty, afraid of retaliation from the King's Gang, so he's asking the militia to protect him."

"Hiss," Mr. Pan sensed something was amiss. He shook his head, quickly dismissing the idea. "Why would a wild beast willingly enter a cage? Cock? He wants to know your whereabouts, he wants to know where I am. He's coming for me."

Cock exclaimed in shock, "He dares?! The militia won't help him!"

Yiven then asked, "Alone? Just him alone?"

"How did you get here? By car?" Mr. Pan asked, "Or by public transport?"

Cock: "That guy should still be being interrogated in the detention room, Boss Pan!"

Yiven answered honestly, "I drove here."

Mr. Pan quickly got up and walked towards the banquet in the courtyard. When the guests saw their host arrive, they immediately stood up to offer him a toast.

Old Pan was a simple man with few ambitions; he only hoped that the gang could live in peace. The harsh words he just uttered, saying that the family had hired many elite soldiers, were just for the Cat and Mouse brothers to hear, to appease his subordinates.

He had a vague feeling that the priest who had beaten Cock was no ordinary person.

Because he could find no motive or reason, he did not understand why the priest and the King's Gang doing the right thing.

If Daphne could find such an assistant, this person should have already appeared in the City of Tears.

Why did this Sun Wukong suddenly appear out of nowhere during the few days Ammona was imprisoned?

The priest didn't want money or any personal gain. He chased Cock all the way to the barracks' cell and kept a close Cock on him, determined to follow him to the King's Gang's manor. It was practically a life-or-death feud.

People who disregard monetary rewards, cross legal boundaries, and are filled with righteous indignation.

What kind of person in this world would do that?

There is only one answer—anonymous.

Mr. Pan is a survivor who experienced the Expeditionary Era and participated in some of the battles. However, he was lucky last time because he was not on the Madness Butterfly's side, but rather an intelligence agent left behind by the Lapis Lazuli Guards in the War Gang.

This opportunist made a fortune in both the war gang and the war group. He came from a poor, remote area to settle down in Tear City. He was willing to do anything for the prosperity of his family and for the future of his children.

At this moment, he walked faster and faster, and his eldest son came forward to help him and flatter him, but he pushed his son's hand away.

The youngest daughter, unaware of what was happening, followed behind her father, only to be yelled back by Old Pan.

"Go back to your room! Go back!"

He was somewhat out of sorts, but still tried to maintain his composure, waiting at the manor gate like a loyal servant, making the old butler extremely uncomfortable.

The old butler asked, "Master? Why have you come to greet us?"

Mr. Pan pulled his bathrobe tighter, the wrinkles on his face twitching. "Ah! We have a distinguished guest coming today."

"Oh! Is he a councilor? Or from the construction and urban development department?" Upon hearing this, the old butler hurriedly went to the storeroom to change his gear, to fetch the pre-dinner drinks and hot towels, and also to bring two sets of windproof cloaks.

Mr. Pan: "You don't need to ask that."

"Oh dear! I can't even ask? Could it be His Excellency the Governor?" The old butler hadn't finished speaking.

A shared electric bicycle slowly climbed up the low slope in front of the manor.

Jiang Xueming rode his electric scooter, a small cloth bag of beef jerky tucked under his gloves, and parked it next to the fence of the manor, just like a househusband who had just returned from grocery shopping.

"Oh, this distinguished guest," the butler said with a touch of humor, "You look like a high-ranking official!"

Mr. Pan was very considerate; he took the initiative to come and wait for Xue Ming.

Jiang Xueming nodded, and when their eyes met, she seemed to understand the fear in the master's eyes.

"Your place is too remote!"

Mr. Pan: "That's right, the land was approved by the leaders, so I can only live here."

Jiang Xueming: "Do you know that if I leave a shared bike here for an hour, they'll charge me twenty yuan!"

Mr. Pan: "How about..."

Jiang Xueming: "You decide what to do."

"Cock! Cock!" Mr. Pan shouted. "Cock!"

The mouse had just returned from the city when it heard its boss's shout and immediately went to the manor gate.

"Boss Pan"

Mr. Pan angrily shouted, "You beast! What did you call me?!"

The mouse immediately changed its address. "Mr. Peter Pan! Our CEO!"

Mr. Pan: "Ride this motorcycle back to the service area!"

"Huh?!" Cock looked at the frozen early spring fields. The nearest public parking spot was at least seven kilometers away from the outskirts of the City of Tears.

Mr. Pan: "What? Can't you think of a solution? Right now, the priest's biggest worry is this parking problem! It's the problem he most needs to solve! It's our top priority! Don't you understand? Is it so hard to understand?"

The bulldog's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets, and its face was ashen. The moment it saw Zhang Congfeng, it knew that this man was someone it could not afford to mess with—this guy could come and go from the military post at will and dared to come to the King's Gang's lair all by himself.

The statement "It costs twenty yuan to park for an hour" was interpreted by Mr. Pan as "I will be very troubled if the problem is not solved within an hour."

These actions are very much like the style of the anonymous gang. The warriors most favored by Ming De usually go downstairs to buy breakfast and wipe out the gang while eating breakfast and doing morning exercises.

Cock quickly called over two of his younger brothers, loaded the shared electric bikes into the trunk of the car, and then drove to the city.

Once the matter was settled, Jiang Xueming seemed unable to find any fault with the bulldog, so he leaned against the iron gate of the manor without any intention of entering, and glanced at the guests in the courtyard a few more times.

Is it your son's birthday today?

Mr. Pan: "Yes."

Jiang Xueming: "I caused you some trouble on your turf, Cock tell you?"

Mr. Pan: "I know everything."

Jiang Xueming took out some beef jerky and handed it to him.

Mr. Pan immediately took it, but then began to hesitate.

Xue Ming explained, "It's not poisonous. I don't need to poison you to beat you up."

"Hehe. Haha," Mr. Pan then put the beef into his mouth.

Xue Ming sat down on the stone platform by the flowerbed on the threshold, and Mr. Pan, not daring to be negligent, sat down with her. However, after a while, his bottom got a little cold.

As Mr. Pan chewed his beef, he felt only embarrassment.

Jiang Xueming kept smacking his lips, without making any other moves.

What's your son's name?

Mr. Pan immediately replied, "Hung Peter."

Jiang Xueming: "You have a daughter?"

Mr. Pan: "He was adopted. He was originally the child of a gang member, but that gang member died young, so I took him in as a foster son."

Jiang Xueming: "Why tie Ammona up?"

Upon hearing this, Mr. Pan dared not speak further.

"It won't look good for the guests if you sit with me." Jiang Xueming pointed to a side room in the manor. "I beat up your good brother Cock, you're not angry, are you, GieGie?"

The bulldog lost its temper; unable to ascertain the priest's background, it could only reply, "No, no."

"Shall we talk inside?" Jiang Xueming gestured.

Back in the warm room, Yiven saw his boss return and was even putting his arm around the priest, calling him brother. He was immediately filled with questions.

"Boss"

Mr. Pan immediately retorted, "You beast! What did you call me?! In front of the priest, you should address me by my title!"

"Oh, President Pan," Yiven immediately corrected himself, "President Pan, how come you and... him..."

Jiang Xueming: "Could you introduce this cat-like person to me?"

Mr. Pan immediately said, "This is one of the managers of our King Pharmaceutical Group Co., Ltd., named Yiven, who is also my accountant."

Jiang Xueming casually tossed a piece of beef jerky to Yiven and patted him on the shoulder. Yiven felt a little strange taking the beef jerky, and his clothes suddenly felt chilly.

"Pan, I'm not here to hold a funeral for you," Jiang Xueming said, carefully observing the expressions of the gangsters.

Mr. Pan tried to remain calm, but Yiven was already angry.

Jiang Xueming: "You still have a chance to be honest with me about Ammona. Is this the first time you've ordered your underlings to kidnap someone? Or have you done this many times before?"

Mr. Pan: "I"

"Don't rush! Don't answer yet," Jiang Xueming emphasized. "Think it over carefully, use your brain. Your son is celebrating his birthday away from home, and I don't want him to get caught up in a vortex of hatred."

"You now possess many wonderful and precious things: your wife, your adopted daughter, your friends. Perhaps among these guests are the young woman who works at the cake shop, your good brother who works at the Tear City Alchemy Factory, the old cadre who plays cards and ball with you, and many, many people who don't know what you do, who see you as a successful person, who see you as the big boss of the King's Pharmaceutical Group—they are all innocent."

"Ammona and Daphne are the same; they fear you, but they don't hate you. They never even considered killing you, their creditor—but you almost killed Ammona, just a hair's breadth away."

Mr. Pan: "Father, I don't understand what you're saying."

"I'm not here to reform you." Jiang Xueming gently patted the Bible: "When faced with the old debts left by Daphne's father from the previous era, you made a choice—now you have to make a second choice."

"Boss, what are you wasting your breath on this guy?!" Yiven was about to draw his gun. "I'll kill this blind bastard!"

The pistol went silent in the serval's paw, and he quickly slid the slide to eject the bullet and clear the obstruction.

"Is this a ghost?!"

One bullet after another was ejected from the chamber without a single shot being fired.

"What a pity." Jiang Xueming got up and went to Yiven's side.

Mr. Pan quickly pleaded, "Please don't hurt him. He's just..."

Jiang Xueming took out the firing pin from his work gloves; this crucial component for firing bullets had somehow ended up in his hands.

"Pan, Yiven has made his choice. I know you're a smart man, you surely know my capabilities. In the face of violence, negotiation is meaningless."

He grabbed the serval's strong body, refusing to let it resist, and fired the needle into the beast's forehead, leaving a bright red fist mark.

Jiang Xueming: "Just now, Yiven brutally shot me. He killed himself in the process."

Mr. Pan watched helplessly as the accountant's body went limp, unable to utter a single word.

The beautiful serval sat between the two, its head tilted to the side and its eyes unfocused. In the instant its hypothalamus was damaged, something flowed out of its body, and it could no longer live.

"You used this serval's soft fur as a tarpaulin; its cold arms and eyes are the windows through which we communicate. Now let's talk about your sins. This room is a confessional."

Xue Ming crossed his arms and hugged his knees.

"God will still give you a chance."