Rigorous, Ruthless, Decisive

Some auto repair shop.

From the outside, everything looked normal—just an ordinary storefront. But inside, it was entirely different. This was one of Kingpin's hideouts, used to produce cocaine. The auto repair shop was merely a front.

Although Kingpin had bribed most of the officials in the district, this sort of thing could not be kept out in the open. That was why there were repair shops, freight centers, garment factories...

At the factory entrance, inside the metal gates, two hulking men who clearly looked like trouble lounged around with guns slung loosely over their shoulders. They talked and gestured animatedly, vividly recounting what some chick had been like last night.

The more they talked, the more worked up they became, almost wishing they could toss aside their boss's assignment and go blow off some steam right away.

But no matter what, they did not dare defy Kingpin's will. They knew Kingpin only cared about results and never showed mercy for old ties.

So although the two of them stood guard for ten hours every day—today, yesterday, every day—they had never once considered sneaking off.

Even though they knew standing guard was really just standing guard.

Bang! Bang! Bang!!

Huh!?!

The heavy gates were pounded, startling them both.

"Philly, did today's truck already come?" one man asked the other for confirmation.

"Yeah." Philly nodded. "It came on time. It's still inside."

The two exchanged a look and raised their guns.

"Who's out there!"

"I'm just a car thief who does it for fun!"

Only after a full ten seconds of silence did someone finally answer.

A car thief? For fun?!

"Get lost! This isn't somewhere you should be!"

"But I want to get a car fixed! Hehehe... I stole a manure truck."

"Guess what part I smashed up~"

"No prize if you guess right~"

A fucking manure truck! What normal person would steal one of those?!

"If you don't want to die, get lost!"

Although the two felt that something was off, they could not casually open the gate. Otherwise, the two gunmen would have already gone rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat.

An even longer silence followed.

The two guards figured that guy had probably left.

"Philly, go tell Newman that the Milk Factory may have been exposed."

Milk Factory. That was the codename for this cocaine production base. Every one of Kingpin's factories had a codename and a direct subordinate managing it. Kingpin never showed his face, so the low-level thugs generally had never seen their boss. Some did not even know who they worked for, as long as they got paid.

Newman was the person in charge of the Milk Factory. This was one of Kingpin's arrangements for hiding himself and evading the law.

"Yeah. I'll swing by the surveillance room on my way back." Philly nodded. "Then..."

Bang! Bang! Bang!!!

The pounding on the gate abruptly started again. Caught off guard while their minds had relaxed, the two shrank their necks and gripped their guns tightly.

"Who lives in a pineapple under the sea~"

"Folks! The neighborhood is sending some warmth! The Ga Family Army has brought booze!"

"Bro, what in your house weighs four hundred pounds, ya mai..."

"Wait a sec, let me make up a better one..."

Open the gate now!

Right now!

Kill him!!!!

Those were the only thoughts in their minds! Even if Newman punished them afterward, so be it!

After gritting their teeth and exchanging looks, both saw the undisguised hatred in the other's eyes.

Chaotic footsteps came from the corridor behind them. The bald guy in front, wearing a thick gold chain, was the man in charge of this factory: Newman.

"You open the gate, then everyone starts shooting." Newman was ruthless too. He had been teasing a white girl he had been craving for ages by the assembly line, and he had almost sealed the deal. The girl had even been complimenting his tasteful hairstyle when Old Jack from the surveillance room suddenly ran over and said the cameras had caught a strange guy at the entrance, insisting that Newman take a look.

Fine, he would take a look. Filled with pent-up frustration, Newman swaggered into the surveillance room.

There really was some freak. He wore strange clothes and a strange hat, his face seemed to be wrapped in bandages, and it looked as though something was crawling over his face!

Newman Blair had grown up on the streets and was more used to using his fists than his brain, but he had climbed step by step to his current position, becoming even more respected than the bearded biker gang leader he had admired as a child. What he relied on was decisiveness!

When it was time to be ruthless, he never hesitated.

This factory was in a remote location, surrounded by completely unrelated businesses. No one would come to a place like this in the middle of the night to fix a car. And with his boss Kingpin's influence, there was absolutely no rival in all of Brooklyn who would dare come snatch a bite.

Unless...

Like that lunatic and that blind man...

Better kill the wrong person than let the right one go! Move!

After telling Old Jack to guard the back door, Newman knew that although he had never gone to school, he was definitely not stupid. That was why he feared death too, and these were necessary precautions.

He twisted the lock open and kicked the gate wide!

Without the slightest hesitation, everyone pulled their triggers at once.

In the entranceway wide enough for a pickup truck, seven or eight men stood in a ragged line, each gun spewing a tongue of flame. The instant flashes were so bright they scorched their eyes shut, while the noise became several times more powerful in the semi-enclosed space. It was no exaggeration to say that the sound alone was unbearable.

Newman stood at the very back, wielding his pistol like a micro SMG.

This time, your luck ran out! Who told you to show up where you shouldn't have?

The bullets ran out.

Using his chin to signal the two men at the front to go out first, Newman walked in the middle of the group as they entered the smoke that had begun to disperse.

The air was filled with the sour scent of love... cough cough! It was filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder, a scent Newman knew well.

There should have been another smell too...

There wasn't.

No smell of blood!

Newman immediately realized something was wrong. He put away his relaxed attitude that the matter had been settled and stopped holding his gun one-handed.

He carefully inspected the surroundings. Sure enough, there was no body!

Just as he was about to tell everyone to retreat, a voice came from somewhere completely unexpected.

Above them.

"Why is someone welding in a situation like this? It's bad for your eyes."

Newman felt that he must have snorted a little too much cocaine earlier. Otherwise, why would he see a person sitting cross-legged in midair?!

"Hehehehehe... cough! Ah, cough cough! Forget it, no human being can make a sound like that when laughing. That flamingo definitely has something wrong with him!"

Leon rummaged around in his clothes, but failed to pull anything out. Looking a little embarrassed, he said, "Awkward, huh! Um, want some eye drops? One drop and your vision's clear, two drops and you're blind!"

Old Jack guarded the back door. He heard the crackling gunfire at the front entrance go on for more than ten seconds, so they had probably taken care of it.

After waiting a while and seeing no one come to call him, he absentmindedly smoothed down his sparse hair. He might as well head back himself.

Turning sideways to walk back, Old Jack gradually slowed as he neared the factory building.

There was no sound.

That guy Newman was not the quiet type. At a time like this, Old Jack should have heard him loudly cursing and a crowd of lackeys kissing his ass.

As the oldest man in the whole factory, Old Jack decided, just as he had before, to leave first!

As for the female workers in the factory, they could die for all he cared!

Walking quickly and quietly, Old Jack returned to the back door and glanced behind him. No one was there.

Could he have... been wrong?

Gritting his teeth, he ran!

Carefully opening the door a crack, he saw no one outside.

He slipped out and closed the door behind him without making a sound. Great!

After looking around, Old Jack ran out along the base of the wall like a thief.

"Ha! What delicious thing are you secretly eating behind my back!"

Old Jack's heart stopped for a second. Trembling, he turned toward the source of the voice...

A person floated in the air.

Decisively tossing away his gun, Old Jack dropped to his knees. "They... they forced me! My daughter-in-law got sick, I..."

"Mmm~~"

Leon nodded in strong agreement. "My grandma said dog farts stink the worst too."