The First Kill

Bai Jing had no time to study Ryan's mental state. He was more curious about the building in front of him.

It looked like an ordinary structure, but inside, it was a whole different world.

Faint sounds drifted out from within—barely audible even to his sharp hearing. An ordinary person probably wouldn't hear a thing.

Ryan led Bai Jing into the building. After passing through a few nondescript hallways, he suddenly pushed open a door marked "Fire Exit Only." Instantly, a wave of noise—music, screams, shouts—crashed over them, deafening and sky-piercing!

Bai Jing quickly activated his Devour ability around his ears, filtering out most of the sound. Only then did he feel better.

He'd have to keep this ability active often.

He could also absorb some of the light. There was no need for such sharp vision all the time.

Inside was some kind of bar—the sleazy kind. Bai Jing watched in mild shock as young, attractive women on stage flaunted their bodies in poses he'd never seen before, while a crowd of lecherous men surrounded them, occasionally splashing them with alcohol or grabbing a thigh.

So this was decadent capitalism? I see, I see!

"Hell's Kitchen is right next to Broadway. A lot of girls dreaming of opera careers go there to chase their dreams, but Broadway rents are sky-high, and the cost of living is brutal. So they end up living here, selling their bodies to survive!" Ryan noticed Bai Jing's fixed stare and suddenly realized this superhuman had a weakness too.

He liked women? Easy. Hell's Kitchen never ran short of women!

"Wait, you said this is Hell's Kitchen?" Bai Jing caught a key word.

"Yeah!" Ryan nodded. "Officially, it's called the Clinton District, but who cares?"

"I think I've heard that before." Bai Jing nodded. Hell's Kitchen was a real place, not something made up for movies or TV.

He continued looking around at the neon-lit debauchery. That was all he could do—just look, and only in this dim environment.

If he activated his super vision and scanned up close, all the grime and grease would be as obvious as lice on Saitama's bald head. He'd already experienced that feeling in the car.

Let's just say, if he didn't have the black hole to absorb things, he would have thrown up.

They passed through the bar, went to the back, and pushed through another door. The noise faded away again.

This was a somewhat long corridor, lined with gang members in suits. Ryan seemed to have some status—when they saw him bringing someone in, they just nodded and let them through without even a pat-down.

"Please!" Ryan held the door open for Bai Jing. Inside was another vast space—clean, spacious floors, bodyguards standing or walking around in small groups, and a bearded boss sitting in the center of the hall, watching TV.

No need to ask who the boss was. Bai Jing didn't think anyone else in a criminal organization would be smoking a cigar and watching SpongeBob.

"Boss!" Ryan said quietly.

"Hold on!" The boss waved a hand and kept watching.

"Our boss is Bront Quinn, codename Disaster Rat. He's good at close combat and pistol shooting." Ryan said. "That guy next to him is Carland Quinn, the boss's brother. He's a former U.S. Marine—top-notch at hand-to-hand and marksmanship."

Bai Jing didn't look at them. He looked at the TV.

He actually liked SpongeBob. Too bad his family was poor when he was young, and he was too busy studying to watch it. Later, when he had money, he was too busy gaming and working.

Lying on a couch, watching cartoons in peace—that had been one of his dreams too.

So he walked right up, scanned the couch, devoured every speck of dust and bacteria until it was spotless, and lay down.

Bront Quinn turned his head in shock. "Who told you to sit down?"

"Slap!" Bai Jing smacked him on the shoulder. "Say that again?"

Bai Jing had no intention of peaceful negotiation with scum like this. Just bulldoze through.

Bront Quinn felt the weakness in his body with alarm. He was skilled in combat, so he knew his own body well.

In an instant, he judged that this was anemia and oxygen deprivation from massive blood loss.

But why? He ate a balanced diet and exercised regularly!

Bai Jing picked up the remote, turned off the TV, and looked at Bront Quinn.

"I heard you're interested in my phone?" Bai Jing asked.

"It's you?" Bront Quinn stared at Bai Jing in shock, then turned to Ryan, his eyes full of resentment. You betrayed me?

"You've got good taste." Bai Jing pulled out his phone. "This is a Huawei smartphone released in 2020. 100-megapixel camera, 8+256GB memory, 66W fast charging, supports 3G, 4G, and 5G. Too bad America cut off Huawei's chips, so there'll never be a Mate 50."

He unlocked the phone with his fingerprint, held it up to Bront Quinn, and took a selfie with a peace sign.

Seeing his own clear face on the screen, Bront was filled with shock—and fear.

In this era, 3 megapixels was already high-end. Even digital cameras with 3 megapixels were rare.

Huawei's front camera had 12 megapixels.

He knew exactly how advanced this phone was, and that made him even more terrified. Why had he ever set his sights on it?

What faction did he belong to? Could he afford to provoke him?

Why was he so openly telling him the phone's specs?

Remember, one deadly sin was knowing too much!

"You people are always like this. You sell your own unique stuff at sky-high prices, desperately try to get your hands on what you don't have, and play dirty when you can't." Bai Jing muttered. "Right now, you're still the beacon of the world, but in ten years, everyone will see you for what you really are..."

"W-what are you talking about? I don't understand..." Bront was almost in tears. What did America being a bully have to do with him? If Bai Jing hated America, they should be allies!

He was just a gangster—a cancer on America too!

"I've never killed anyone before, but it looks like I have to now. So I'm saying things that make me angry, so I can bring myself to do it." Bai Jing said flatly.

"Huh?" Bront was stunned.

He just watched as Bai Jing pulled a silver revolver from his chest and pressed it against his forehead.

Carland, standing nearby, finally sensed something wrong and raised his gun to fire—the whole process taking less than 0.7 seconds.

Then he saw that gleaming bullet halt beside the Yellow man's temple, first crumbling to dust, then silently vanishing into thin air.

Bang!

Bai Jing finally pulled the trigger!

It was his first time killing someone, and it felt terrible.

He used to be the kind of person who'd feel awful for half a day just from stepping on a snail while walking.

But could he afford not to kill?

If he didn't, Bront would never give up.

The Mate 40 represented a trillion-dollar market. Not only would Bront be tempted, but even the CIA or FBI might get involved.

Then he'd have no choice but to flee, exposing his abilities along the way and drawing even stronger pursuers.

Endless, without respite.

He didn't have money either—was he supposed to rob his way through the journey?

Swallow the Mate 40 and destroy the evidence?

That was impossible too. The Mate 40 was a golden opportunity for the Celestial Dynasty to overtake on the curve. To keep Xia from suffering that same humiliation twelve years later, Bai Jing had to do something!

Like—

Bang!

Bront dead!

He swung the muzzle toward Carland!

One shot had already given him a clear sense of the revolver's recoil.

An invisible force acted on the gun, helping stabilize its aim.

Carland scrambled to dodge, but how could he escape under such slow motion?

Bang!

A bullet to the forehead, one shot to kill!

Carland, dead!

"An assassin!" The bodyguards standing nearby had sensed something wrong earlier, but everything was far too fast!

From Bai Jing drawing his gun to killing both men, it took less than a second—who could react in time?

Even the elites among them were only just now pulling out their guns!

And then they didn't fire!

Because their boss was dead. Capturing this shooter alive to find out who ordered the hit was more important.

After all, avenging the former boss was crucial for anyone wanting to take over as the new leader!

More critically, the young man before them had his gun aimed at his own forehead.

"From today on, the Gray Squirrel Gang answers to me!" The youth's clear voice echoed through the hall.