The Strange Father and Daughter

A deserted factory in the outskirts.

Two figures, one large and one small, stood in the empty yard some distance apart. A middle-aged man in a brown jacket and glasses held a handgun as he spoke to the little blonde girl some distance away—

"Dad, I'm a little scared."

"Don't be afraid, Mindy. You're grown up now, sweetheart. There's nothing to be scared of."

A light breeze stirred the middle-aged man's thinning hair. Holding the handgun, he comforted the little girl in a gentle tone, as though what was about to happen was insignificant and not worth fearing at all.

"Will it hurt a lot?" the adorable little girl named Mindy asked.

"Kid, it'll only last a second. A handgun bullet travels at over 800 meters per second... so at such a short distance, sure, it'll knock you down, but it won't hurt any more than taking a punch to the chest!"

The middle-aged man spoke with a calm expression. He then loaded the magazine, raised the handgun, and aimed it at the little blonde girl thirty meters away.

"I hate getting punched in the chest..." Mindy muttered with a frown.

"You'll be fine, little sweetheart."

As soon as he finished speaking, a gunshot rang out. Faint gun smoke spread and dissipated as the little girl in the distance fell at once. Her pink down jacket burst with tiny feathers that drifted away in the breeze like snowflakes.

"Cough, cough..."

It took the little girl several seconds to recover from the violent impact to her chest. She opened her pink down jacket and picked a metal bullet out of the body armor beneath it.

"How was that? Not bad, right? Wasn't it fun? Now you know what it feels like. If some junkie pulls a handgun on you in the future, you won't be scared anymore."

The middle-aged man walked over to his daughter and lectured the little girl like a teacher, utterly unaware of how dangerous and twisted his method of education was.

This middle-aged man, who looked no different from an ordinary person, was named Damon McCready. He had once been a rising star in the police department, with a bright future ahead of him. But after setting his sights on Frank D'Amico, the Drug Lord of the West Coast, he was falsely accused of being a corrupt cop in league with drug traffickers and sent to prison. Yet that was only the beginning of the tragedy. While this wronged police officer was incarcerated, his pregnant wife, unable to bear the pressure of life, committed suicide by taking pills. Fortunately, the child in her womb was successfully born.

That was the tragic story of the middle-aged man. He had gone from a respected police officer to a disgraced convict. Therefore, after being released five years later, he resolved to take revenge on his enemies. He trained his daughter in an almost crazed manner, turning an originally adorable and innocent little blonde girl into a lethal weapon skilled in combat and firearms. His ultimate goal was to destroy Frank D'Amico's drug empire and avenge his dead wife!

"Those junkies can't scare me," Mindy said unhappily.

"That's my good daughter. Get up. Two more times, then we'll go home." The middle-aged man pulled the little girl up from the ground.

"Again?" Mindy's eyes widened, then she made a demand. "Fine. But on the way back, I want to go to a bowling alley, and then I want a chocolate sundae!"

The middle-aged man smilingly agreed to all his daughter's requests. Recently, someone else seemed to be targeting Frank D'Amico and always acted before he could. So this former police officer decided to speed things up and send the Drug Lord of the West Coast, who had destroyed his family, straight to hell as soon as possible!

Bowling Alley.

"Harry, why did you suddenly want to travel to the West Coast?"

Holding a bowling ball, Peter looked puzzled. He had no idea why his friend had suddenly decided to take a road trip from New York on the East Coast, bringing Mary Jane and Sean along to form a small sightseeing group.

"I just felt like traveling, Peter. We finally graduated from high school and are about to start college. That calls for a proper celebration... As for why the West Coast, that was Sean's suggestion."

Harry enthusiastically rolled a bowling ball, knocking down a row of white pins. Sean, sitting in his seat, merely smiled without saying anything. Of course, he knew that Young Master Osborn's real intention lay elsewhere. He clearly wanted to take his new girlfriend, Mary Jane, on a fun little trip; Peter and he were just tagging along.

As for coming to the West Coast, that had indeed been his suggestion, made while the opportunity presented itself. A cake had to be eaten one bite at a time, and enemies had to be dealt with one by one. Since he had said he would personally pay Mr. Frank D'Amico a visit, he naturally would not go back on his word.

Thinking about how his high school years had now come to an end and how he was stepping into a brand-new college life, Sean felt a faint thrill in his heart. It meant he would have more freedom in the future, as well as more suitable excuses and cover for whatever achievements he attained afterward. After all, this country was never short of so-called geniuses—for example, Tony Stark, the playboy billionaire constantly featured in the media. It was said that he had already revealed himself as a genius scientist during his college years.

"Sean, aren't you going to play a few rounds?"

Harry called out to his friend sitting in the chair. At first, he had thought Sean was some withdrawn weirdo, but after getting to know him, he discovered that Sean was actually quite interesting. Compared to Peter, who only buried himself in books and rarely spoke, Sean was far more witty and humorous. It was as though he knew what Harry was thinking, always hitting the nail on the head with a single remark. That made Harry, who had never had many friends growing up, feel exceptionally comfortable.

"You guys play."

Sean waved him off. His attention had been drawn to a father and daughter at the next lane: a little girl eating a chocolate sundae and a middle-aged man eating fries and a burger. They looked perfectly ordinary, but their conversation, which Sean happened to overhear, interested him greatly.

"Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?" the middle-aged man, apparently the father, asked.

"Can I have a puppy? A cute, fluffy puppy, and a Bouraz Doll that looks like a movie star." The little girl stirred her sundae. Seeing her father's unpleasant expression, she laughed happily. "I'm kidding, Dad. Actually, I want a handmade Model 42 butterfly knife."

"Sweetheart, you always like playing pranks... I'll give you two Philippine Butterfly Knives as your birthday present."

What a strange father and daughter. What father gave his daughter something as dangerous as butterfly knives for her birthday? And that little blonde girl, who looked only seven or eight, actually wore an expression of delight. It was unbelievable.

As he walked out of the bowling alley, Sean watched Harry and Mary Jane chatting and laughing ahead of him, along with Peter, whose presence was barely noticeable. Sean let out a long breath. This was going to be a busy night.