The iron gates of Falcone Manor slowly opened before the Patrol Van. Compared with last time, there were noticeably more guards in the courtyard, all grim-faced, their hands resting on their holsters. The air was as taut as a fully drawn bowstring.
"Tch... A few more fucking visits and I'll qualify as a VIP." Li Jie clicked his tongue at the guards filling the courtyard. "Be careful. Watch the van, and don't get out and stir up trouble. I'm not sure how much sanity the old bastard has left."
He opened the door and gritted his teeth as he climbed down, leaving Anna and Wilson in the van.
The reception room looked nothing like its usual elegant, composed Tuscan self. Carmine Falcone wasn't sitting on his customary sofa. Instead, he stood before the fireplace like an agitated old lion. Several fresh, dark-red stains marked the expensive carpet.
There were considerably more people in the room than last time. Aside from Victor Zsasz, several middle-aged men stood or sat there, trembling with fear. Two burly men held Oswald Cobblepot up in the center of the room, his head hanging low, barely alive. Blood covered his face, and his once finely tailored suit had been torn beyond recognition. The corners of his mouth and eyes were split open. Blood dripped from his chin, forming a small, darker pool on the carpet.
"Um... Mr. Falcone," Li Jie said, trying to keep his voice calm. "Looks like I've come at a bad time?"
Falcone spun around. Heavy bags hung beneath his eyes, which were webbed with bloodshot veins. The relentless mental strain and anger seemed to have drained him, but the ruthless gleam deep in those eyes was more intimidating than ever.
"No, you've come at precisely the right time, Sheriff." His voice was