Ruthless Methods

The night was deep, the stars and moon dim.

At an abandoned factory on the outskirts of Queens, a group of men entered the long-deserted building. It had once been an industrial site for chemical production, but had gone bankrupt during the economic crisis at the beginning of the last century. Its remote location meant few people ever came by, making it a favorite place for gangs to dispose of problems. Occasionally, they also carried out shady illegal work there.

"Boss, do you think that kid got scared and won't come?"

A middle-aged man stood on the factory rooftop as one of his subordinates asked quietly. They were all core members of the gang. Instead of partying at a nightclub or following their boss to discuss business, they were stuck in this godforsaken place waiting for a high school student. It was only natural that they were irritated.

"No. That kid is smart. He knows he can't run anywhere. A high schooler with no family or friends is perfect for bringing into the gang."

The middle-aged boss was patient. His boss, Frank D'Amico, was a major drug lord on the West Coast. On the surface, he operated a sizable trading company, but in reality, he was involved in the illegal drug-smuggling business. Recently, the gang had been fighting the Irish Mob of Hell's Kitchen and the Japanese for territory. All three sides had lost quite a few men, and they were desperately short-handed.

That was when Sean caught his eye. A high school student who could beat several street punks badly enough to send them to the hospital interested the middle-aged man, so he intended to recruit him into the gang. A boss always needed capable men to get things done. As for Sean's own wishes, they were not within the man's consideration. If the boy failed to appreciate the offer, he did not mind giving that high school student an early taste of the darkness and cruelty of the world.

"What time is it?" the middle-aged man asked with a frown.

"It's almost the agreed time, Boss. We've got to teach that kid a lesson! Who the hell does he think he is, making us wait here?"

A burly man cracked his knuckles, while the others chimed in. Every one of them was looking forward to greeting the newcomer properly with their fists.

"Watch your strength. That little guy still needs to make me a lot of money."

The middle-aged man smiled faintly. In his eyes, those little underlings selling drugs for him were merely money-making machines.

Aside from large-scale drug deals, smaller shipments would end up in the hands of leaders like him, who would then distribute them to their subordinates for street sales. Between thirty and fifty percent of the profits had to be handed over to him. Those underlings risked being caught by the police and thrown in prison to peddle the drugs, yet most of the money ultimately went into the pockets of the gang's upper ranks.

"Boss, that kid's here."

A lookout shouted. By the hazy moonlight, the middle-aged man saw a shadow emerge. Sean, dressed casually, strolled into the abandoned factory without any hurry, as though he had merely stepped out for a walk in the night.

"Looks like we need to show this kid some color."

Sean's relaxed attitude displeased the middle-aged man. He decided that he would make this ungrateful high school student suffer soon enough.

"You really know how to arrive right on time," the middle-aged man sneered. "There was once a guy who didn't show up at the agreed time and made me wait two extra minutes. Do you know what happened to him? I cut off two of his fingers with a knife! That was the only way to make him remember the lesson, so he wouldn't make the same mistake again."

Sean smiled. Perhaps the middle-aged man's bloody story would have worked on other high school students, turning their faces pale with fear, but it had no effect on him. Their strengths were not even on the same level to begin with.

So the man's attempt to act cold and ruthless only amused Sean. It was like a child putting on airs in front of an adult—especially ridiculous.

"If latecomers get their fingers cut off, then what are you planning to do with someone like me, who arrived on time?" Sean asked curiously.

"Bloom, go welcome the newcomer. Let him learn what rules are." The middle-aged man grinned and waved the burly man beside him over.

The heavily built man cracked his knuckles loudly. His fleshy face was filled with viciousness, making him look like an upright-walking black bear. He inspired fear without even trying.

"I'll be gentle, little guy," Bloom said gruffly. "If you don't resist, I'll only break a few of your bones."

The others standing on the factory rooftop shouted and jeered as though watching a show, loudly cheering Bloom on. They could not wait to see the high school student beaten to his knees and begging for mercy.

The burly man strode up to Sean. Seeing that the boy said nothing, he assumed Sean had been scared speechless. He raised his enormous palm, preparing to knock the guy down in a single blow.

Crack!

A sharp sound of breaking bone rang through the abandoned factory. Everyone on the rooftop widened their eyes. Even the middle-aged man, who had remained calm as though watching a play, froze.

Bloom's hand bent at a forty-five-degree angle, as though the joint in his arm had been completely twisted apart. White shards of bone pierced through his skin, creating a grotesquely bloody sight with a powerful visual impact.

The burly man, who had been so arrogant moments ago, let out a thunderous scream and dropped to one knee. Blood gushed from his arm, quickly staining the dust-covered ground red.

"I've never been very gentle with men."

The young high school student said it with a smile. Who would have thought that such a refined, handsome boy could twist apart the thick arm of a six-foot-tall brute as easily as snapping a chopstick?

"Kill him!"

Seeing that he had lost one of his men, the middle-aged man immediately ordered the others to shoot Sean. He had abandoned all thoughts of recruiting him. This seemingly harmless high school student was no different from a demon—he had broken Bloom's arm without even blinking.

What was worse, he still wore a faint smile as if nothing had happened. That cold attitude sent chills through the middle-aged man's heart. He pulled out the pistol at his waist. No matter how well Sean could fight, he was still made of flesh and blood. If he was riddled with bullets, he would die all the same!

A burst of fierce gunfire echoed through the silent night. In the deserted factory, tiny flashes from the muzzles intertwined into a dense net, tongues of fire erupting in rapid succession as they swept toward the fast-moving Sean.

The young high school student moved with the agility of a nimble cheetah. Swift and unpredictable, he constantly used every available obstacle to evade the continuous gunfire, weaving and dodging through the overwhelming barrage.

Deep in Sean's eyes, a faint golden light flickered. The incredibly fast metal bullets gradually slowed in his vision, allowing him to see countless trajectories tearing through the air and forming a dense web of death.

The middle-aged man fired again and again, but that damned high school student was like a ghost, turning into a dark blur as he dodged and leaped. Before anyone knew when it happened, Sean had charged onto the factory rooftop. Like a tiger among sheep, he crushed the throats of the gunmen one after another, reaping lives like the Grim Reaper. The noisy factory gradually fell silent. When the final gunman collapsed, Sean stood before him with blood covering both hands.

"Don't come any closer!"

The middle-aged man's voice trembled as he raised his pistol at Sean. Unfortunately, the magazine was empty. No matter how he pulled the trigger, not a single bullet came out to kill the terrifying demon before him.

"How did that saying go... Oh, right. I hate it most when people point guns at my head."

Sean snatched the pistol from the middle-aged man's hand and crushed it into scrap metal with a hard squeeze. In that teenage body surged inhuman strength.

"I work for Boss Frank D'Amico! If you kill me, you'll be in serious trouble!"

The middle-aged man lost his previous composure. His legs went weak, and he dropped to his knees to beg for mercy.

"Frank D'Amico... It won't be long before I go looking for him."

Sean's tone was calm. The best way to solve trouble was to eliminate enemies—and anyone who might become an enemy in the future—all at once.