The Gray Wolf Gang's leader was nicknamed Barracuda, and he was a former member of Delta Force.
With his exceptional skills and terrifying cruelty, he'd carved out a territory for himself in Las Vegas. In the end, thanks to his reasonably clever head, he'd taken control of the runners who were only trying to make a living.
The runners in Las Vegas were an open secret. But ever since Barracuda had gotten involved, their lives had started to get harder.
The kind of people who became runners usually had one or two fairly well-off clients. But Barracuda's arrival had forced them to hand over their clients. In the end, they had to put up with Barracuda bleeding them dry while also risking prison.
Barracuda had a strong sense of customer service. He used the runners to consolidate his business, not only taking bets on behalf of clients but also arranging women, drugs, and anything else that could make him money.
The risks, however, all fell on the runners!
Most people had no idea what Barracuda's background was. All they knew was that this arrogant Barracuda had run wild on the outskirts of Las Vegas for years, and the police, FBI, and DEA were all powerless to stop him.
Nobody could have imagined that this small-time gang had an enormous cash flow and drug-smuggling network every year.
Barracuda was in his office now, furiously berating his older brother...
"Are you fucking stupid? You sold the bar for six hundred thousand?"
As he spoke, the tall, burly Barracuda stood up and smashed an ashtray over his brother's head. "How the fuck did I end up with a brother like you?
"Where's that little Felicia? Why the fuck didn't you bring her here?
"How many times have I told you? She's important to