Aftermath and Assessment
Like several black shadows, the convoy silently slid into the damp, cold streets of Seattle late at night. Outside the car windows, the colorful neon lights and dim streetlights cast fragmented and hazy shadows on the wet pavement, illuminating faces that were either calm or slightly excited.
In the back seat of the middle car, Lin Feng leaned against the leather seat. The window was slightly ajar, letting in a cool night breeze that dispersed the lingering stench of smoke, alcohol, perfume, and a hint of blood that clung to him from the nightclub. The cigarette between his fingers had burned to the end, leaving a long trail of grayish-white ash that broke silently with the slight jolt of the car and landed on the expensive cashmere floor mats beneath his feet.
"Boss," K, in the passenger seat, reported calmly without turning around, his gaze still fixed on the flowing night ahead, "As you instructed, Alina (the mercenary's code name) has taken the girl to Ci'en Hospital."
I spoke with the hospital director, and we arranged for her to receive a private room and confidential treatment under the name of the ' Lin Mo ' Charitable Foundation. She only inhaled some common party psychedelics; the dose wasn't too high. Combined with the shock and minor injuries, she's not in life-threatening danger, but she needs time to metabolize and recover.
Lin Feng grunted in acknowledgment. He casually stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray inside the car door.
The car was quiet for a moment, with only the deep roar of the engine and the screech of the tires over the wet road.
K spoke again, this time with a deeper caution in his voice. "Also, boss, based on the reaction of that white youth (Alex) in the nightclub, and the way that security captain acted when he heard the surname ' Walton,' the one who was knocked unconscious (Brandon) is probably more than just an ordinary spoiled brat. The surname ' Walton ' carries considerable weight in Seattle and even Washington State."
He paused slightly, as if recalling information. "Old Walton started in the timber and shipping business, later expanding into real estate, finance, and shares in local professional sports teams. While not among the very elite, his family has deep roots in local politics and business, making them typical local power brokers. This Brandon is probably the less successful younger generation in the family, but he's still a direct descendant. They won't let this go easily."
Hearing this, Lü Yi in the back seat couldn't help but interject, his tone laced with disdain. "Damn it, so what if they're local bullies? Didn't I just beat them to a pulp? Dare to cause trouble? I'll beat one of them if one comes, and two if two come!"
Kong Xiang tugged at his sleeve, signaling him to say less.
Lin Feng ignored Lü Yi's clamor. He leaned back in his seat, his gaze fixed on the rapidly receding cityscape outside the car window, its surface exceptionally clear after being washed by the rain.
Those towering glass-walled buildings gleamed with a cold, orderly light in the night, like the intricate gears of this vast social machine. And they had just given a sharp pry in one of the most glamorous and sordid gears.
He paused for a few seconds, then spoke slowly and clearly:
"It's nothing."
The voice wasn't loud, but it carried a strange sense of stability, instantly suppressing the slight restlessness inside the car.
He continued, his tone flat, as if stating a perfectly simple fact:
"Now that we're here, we're bound to cause some trouble."
He paused, his gaze seemingly piercing through the car window and the night, catching sight of something stirring deeper within. A barely perceptible, almost chilling smile curved his lips.
"Otherwise, everyone will really treat us like lambs to the slaughter."
There's a strange phenomenon in this country: the Great East of Tokyo has been talking about a brain drain, with many wealthy scientists moving here.
But what's amazing is that after they arrived here, they disappeared without a trace. Many of them were famous tycoons, and some were top scientists, but after arriving in this country, they were like duckweed, leaving no ripples.
The reason for this is that they have a deeply ingrained bias against this country, believing it to be a civilized world, when in reality it is just a dark forest where the strong prey on the weak.
After saying this, he fell silent and closed his eyes again, as if the conflict and the declaration he had just made were merely insignificant episodes that required a short rest in order to deal with the truly important matters.
Silence returned to the car. Lü Yi clicked her tongue, agreeing with her boss. The unease she felt about potentially getting into trouble dissipated considerably, and she even began to look forward to an even bigger "storm."
Kong Xiang secretly pondered that the boss's words were not only meant for the people in the car, but also for himself, and more importantly, they were a prelude to the inevitable backlash that was about to come.
K remained expressionless, his fingers rapidly tapping on the encrypted tablet on his lap, beginning to devise preliminary plans to deal with the possible reactions of the "Walton" family.
At the same time, in the VIP area of Q Nightclub, the brief but bloody storm had passed, but the mess and panic it left behind still lingered. The deafening music continued, but the booths in this area were noticeably quieter, with many people avoiding them like the plague.
Alex paced around Brandon, who was unconscious and covered in blood, like a cat on a hot tin roof. He checked Brandon's breathing; it was faint but still there, which gave him a slight sense of relief. However, seeing Brandon's gruesome state and the large pool of blood mixed with alcohol on the ground, fear and pressure instantly overwhelmed him again. He dared not move Brandon, fearing he might cause further injury, and even more so, fearing that the group of monsters might return.
With trembling hands, he finally pulled his phone from his pocket; the screen was slippery from sweat. He unlocked it, his fingers shaking as he pressed "911." The call connected almost instantly.
"911, what's your emergency?" came the calm female voice of the operator.
"Help! Need ambulance! Q Nightclub, downtown! VIP section! My friend... he's been brutally attacked! Head injury! Lots of blood! He's unconscious! Hurry!" Alex's voice was trembling and choked with sobs, his words incoherent.
"Calm down, sir. Is the scene safe? Are the assailants still there?"
"They... they left! But please, hurry! It's Walton! Brandon Walton! You have to save him!" Alex practically screamed the last name, as if it were his only lifeline.
Sure enough, there was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then the tone became more serious. "Ambulance and police are on the way. Stay on the line, do not move the victim."
Just as Alex was hurriedly describing the situation on the phone, repeatedly emphasizing the surname "Walton," a figure timidly and hesitantly moved over.
It's Jenny.
Her makeup was a little smudged, her eyeliner had smudged slightly at the corner of her eye, making her look somewhat disheveled. Her expression was a mixture of fear, lingering apprehension, and a desperate attempt to salvage the situation. She looked at the unconscious Brandon on the ground, then at Alex, who was excitedly talking on the phone. She bit her lip, mustered her courage, stepped forward, and gently tugged at Alex's arm, her voice soft and affected, tinged with deliberate weakness and concern:
"Alex... are you alright? Brandon... oh my god, how could this happen... I was so scared, I hid over there and didn't dare come over..." As she spoke, she reached out to straighten Alex's disheveled collar, her eyes full of concern for him.
Alex, who was in a state of extreme anxiety, fear, and panic about future punishment, was suddenly jolted by Jenny's untimely touch and coquettish voice. His pent-up anger, frustration, and nowhere to vent his fear instantly found the weakest outlet.
He turned his head sharply, his bloodshot eyes staring intently at Jenny, his usually handsome face now contorted with anger and fear.
I didn't hear what Jenny said after that; all I saw was her heavily made-up face, which looked especially hypocritical and repulsive at that moment, and the sequined miniskirt she was wearing—this was the "trouble" this woman had brought!
If she hadn't dragged that ungrateful girl along, if that girl hadn't gone crazy, if she hadn't provoked those ruthless bastards before... how could Brandon have ended up like this? How could he have gotten himself into such a desperate situation?!
All the negative emotions erupted suddenly.
"You stupid whore!!"
Alex let out a beast-like growl, giving Jenny no time to react. With all his might, he swung his free left hand and slapped Jenny hard and solidly across the face!
Smack!
A crisp, loud slap, almost drowning out the background music, rang out in the booth area!
Jenny was hit so hard that she staggered to the side and fell, her high heel twisting as she cried out in pain, landing heavily on the cold, dirty ground.
She covered her face, tilted her head to one side, her thick false eyelashes were stuck to one cheek, and her carefully styled hair was completely disheveled.
Five clear, red, swollen finger marks instantly appeared on her face. The burning pain brought tears to her eyes, half from the pain, and half from disbelief, humiliation, and fear.
Alex pointed at Jenny, who was slumped to the ground, face buried in her hands, and began to hurl insults at her in a voice sharpened with rage, spitting as he spoke:
"Where the hell were you!? Look what you fucking brought us! This is all your fault, you worthless cunt!"
Jenny covered her face, looking up at Alex's face, contorted with rage, at the undisguised hatred and resentment in his eyes. Her ears were ringing, her face burned with pain, and her heart was filled with icy despair.
She opened her mouth, wanting to explain, wanting to say "it was Xiaoyu who went crazy," wanting to say "those Asia were too ruthless," but looking at Alex's almost murderous eyes, all the words stuck in her throat.
She knew she was finished. In this circle, her "connections" and "value," which she was so proud of, were as fragile as paper in the face of this slap.
Brandon was seriously injured, Alex took his anger out on her, making her the perfect scapegoat and punching bag. From now on, no one will be interested in her, and she might even lose her place in the industry.
A fierce will to survive and a deep-seated sense of inferiority forced her to force a smile that was more like a grimace than a cry, even amidst excruciating pain and humiliation. Tears still clung to her face as she tried to get up, reaching for Alex's trouser leg, her voice trembling with sobs and pleading:
Alex, I'm sorry, I was wrong, I really didn't mean it, please let me explain...
"Get the fuck away from me!" Alex kicked away her outstretched hand with disgust, as if it had been contaminated with some nasty germ. He didn't look at her again, turned around and continued talking urgently on the phone, leaving Jenny with only a cold and heartless Back View.
Jenny flinched as she was kicked, collapsing back to the ground. The swollen finger marks on her face, her disheveled hair, her smudged makeup, her dirty dress, and the indifferent, mocking, or gloating glances around her made her look like a stray dog that had been kicked away by its owner and was now trembling in the mud.
She finally couldn't hold back anymore, covered her face, and began to sob softly, her body curled up in a ball on the cold ground. All her vanity, scheming, and pretense were shattered at this moment, leaving only boundless cold and seemingly endless darkness.
In the distance, deep within the nightclub, the faint, sharp sirens of police sirens and ambulances could be heard, rapidly tearing through the night sky and approaching this corner where violence, betrayal, and a humiliating ending had just unfolded.
Meanwhile, on the street, Lin Feng's convoy had already merged into the city's traffic and disappeared into the vast and complex network of Seattle's nightscape, leaving only the gradually fading sound of engines and a declaration that had already been uttered and was destined to stir up even greater waves.