Chapter 233
by karlmaksAdvanced chapter until 500+ at patreon.com/caleredhair
On the way, the middle-aged man was a bit absent-minded. Hearing that they were arriving soon, his mind was on other things.
For example, could they take care of the Lance Family in one go?
Would the Lance Family counter-attack?
After taking care of them, how much profit could he make from running this bar?
He thought about many things, even about matters years, or a dozen years later.
Unconsciously, the corners of his mouth slowly curled up, revealing a smile.
He didn’t notice that the old men who were discussing over there also showed smiles when they saw his expression!
“This time you have to treat us to a good meal!” The old man with age spots all over his face looked jealous.
He only got a five-dollar reward for reporting, while this skinny old man got twenty for cooperating in the act. He could act too, but it just wasn’t his turn.
Even from a great distance, you could feel the reluctance emanating from him.
The skinny old man laughed heartily and lowered his voice, “Alright, I’ll treat you all to a big meal later, a five-dollar one!”
Now the other three old men showed satisfied expressions. One of them couldn’t help but punch him on the chest, “That’s more like it.”
The bus quickly stopped at the station. The driver impatiently slapped the iron sheet in the driver’s cabin with his hand, “Those who are getting off, get off quickly. I still have to f—king go home for dinner.”
“If no one is getting off, I’m leaving!”
The few passengers on the bus sat numbly. The old men stood up, and the middle-aged man quickly followed.
The driver muttered for a while in a low voice, obviously a little dissatisfied with the “slow motion” of these old men.
This was a seemingly unremarkable crossroads. After the group got off the bus, they led the middle-aged man into the adjacent alley.
The trash can at the entrance of the alley was full of various household garbage. Sewage flowed everywhere and had already begun to emit a stench.
A few stray dogs were looking for dinner in the garbage heap.
On the wall next to it, a stray cat was crouching, quietly watching the stray dogs looking for food in the garbage heap, its eyes seeming to show a trace of disdain.
After entering the alley and turning right, there was a not-so-deep backyard. It was no different from the back of the buildings in most neighborhoods.
They came to a downward half-level. The old man knocked on the door.
With a click, a slit opened in the window on the door panel, revealing a pair of eyes.
After the person inside saw them, he opened the door without even asking. They were obviously regulars.
The middle-aged man cursed inwardly but still followed them in.
And at this moment, eight cars had already stopped outside the alley.
A large number of people got out of the cars. The stray dogs that were looking for food just glanced at them and then tucked their tails and left.
Even the lazy stray cat crouching on the wall quickly left the wall as if its fur was standing on end, disappearing into the darkness.
A few people watched their men enter this alley. At this time, they seemed to be looking for something on the ground and soon made a discovery.
At intervals, there was a small pile of flour on the ground. There was not much wind in the alley, so it couldn’t blow these powders away. In the end, it led people to the entrance of a basement.
Only after getting close could one smell the faint scent of alcohol wafting in the air.
“It’s here.”
They quickly left, discussed for a while at the mouth of the alley, and then these people began to look for places to hide themselves and began to prepare for the upcoming battle.
It’s just that they didn’t know that their every move had already been exposed.
“…Later, a few of us will go over and knock on the door. They definitely won’t open it.”
“Then we’ll argue with them, pound hard on the door, they’ll definitely have to come out.”
“Find a way to escalate the conflict, make their people call for help. If necessary, we can use weapons first.”
“Everyone else hide well. When Lance’s people arrive, attack directly!”
“Show no mercy, with the aim of killing as many of these people as possible…”
Brinton didn’t come today. He was the current leader here. Although this was an important operation, he would not participate. He had to hold down the fort in the rear.
The one in charge of commanding was the strategist who often gave him advice. Just as he had assigned the tasks, suddenly, in the quiet night, people heard the sound of an old-fashioned window being lifted up.
It was the sound of the window rubbing against the window frame!
Most of the windows in the Federation opened upwards. In order not to let the windows fall down at any time, they were made quite tight. Whether opening or closing, it required some force.
This also caused these windows to have a distinct rubbing sound when being opened or closed, as well as the sound of collision when the window was opened or closed to its limit with too much force.
The group immediately looked in the direction the sound came from. They had not yet found anything in the darkness when they heard the sound of more windows being opened to their limit.
The strategist had already realized that something was wrong, but before he could say anything, the sound of submachine guns suddenly rang out from the dark windows around them!
There were flashes of fire everywhere. Bullets rained down on people like rain, hitting the ground, and the dusty ground was shot up, sending dirt flying.
After a brief moment of panic, the members of the Viper Gang also began to fight back, but the surrounding walls were all dark. They didn’t know which window had someone behind it and which didn’t.
The flashes of fire from the shooting made it impossible for them to look directly. After the flashes ended, they had forgotten the positions again.
They fired randomly and shattered some glass windows, but the entire back alley, and even this half of the street, was “quiet.”
Only gunshots.
There were no frightened screams, no complaining or angry curses, no hysterical sounds, as if there were only the two groups of them here!
The middle-aged man who had already entered the bar also sensed that something was wrong, because there were only a few people in the entire bar, and these people were all looking at him at this moment.
And the intense gunfire outside made him feel a strong sense of unease. He swallowed, his arms beginning to tremble.
He raised his glass and took a sip, trying to hide his panic and unease. He had a weapon in his coat, but he quickly glanced around. He could kill one person at most, and then he would be turned into a hornet’s nest.
This was clearly a trap!
These sons of b—tches!
He gave a resentful sideways glance at the old men who were happily drinking their liquor, and finally squeezed out a smile, “What is the meaning of this?”
The bartender was still wiping a glass, as if he spent most of his time every day doing such work, either wiping glasses or wiping those liquor bottles.
He looked up at the middle-aged man, “This is a trap.”
The middle-aged man was covered in sweat. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans were unscientifically squeezed out of his pores at a speed visible to the naked eye, then mixed together and flowed down his cheeks.
He didn’t even dare to wipe it, for fear that this action would cause some misunderstanding!
“I don’t know what you mean!”
“I just came to have a drink with my friends!”
The bartender chuckled. He put down the square glass in his hand, looked at the middle-aged man, leaned forward slightly, and beckoned to him.
The middle-aged man swallowed. He pressed his hands on the bar and leaned his body forward as much as possible.
His attention was all on the bartender, on his face, ignoring the movement of the bartender’s hands.
“I don’t want to make a mess of this,” the bartender whispered in his ear.
Before he could react to what this sentence represented, the bartender plunged a sharp knife into his throat, then immediately pulled it out, and then pressed the wound with the towel he had just used to wipe the glass.
Subconsciously, the middle-aged man hugged his neck tightly with both hands like a drowning person.
But this was meaningless!
He instinctively dodged backwards, retreating to the middle of the bar.
Blood soaked through the towel that couldn’t be plugged at all. The white towel also began to turn red. He began to be unable to breathe.
The blood flowed backwards, giving him a feeling of drowning. He instinctively began to cough, but when he opened his mouth, he only made a movement similar to coughing or retching.
The blood was not squeezed out by the pressure in his lungs. He looked at the people around him in panic and ran towards the door.
But after running a few steps, his body began to convulse more violently. Just when he was two or three meters away from the bar door, he fell headfirst to the ground.
Except for the few old men, everyone else calmly looked at the corpse. The bartender took out a new towel and another actually very clean glass and began to wipe it.
“Clean up the floor, then throw him out.”
And at this moment, the most intense gunfire outside had also stopped.
A group of people walked in from the mouth of the alley, with Hiram at the very front.
“I surrender!”
Next to the trash can, a guy clutching a gunshot wound to his abdomen lay with the trash, not at all out of place, as if this was originally his home.
He was panting, looking at Hiram, “I surrender, I know…”
Hiram walked over, raised his gun, and pressed the trigger all the way down at him.
The rat-tat-tat-tat of fire once again illuminated the entire can. The man looked at Hiram in disbelief, his wide-open eyes seeming to say—
“Are you f—king crazy?”
When the click-clack-click of the empty chamber was heard, he changed a magazine and continued to walk forward.
Some young people behind him made comments like “so handsome” or “cool.” He, who could easily suppress the recoil of a submachine gun on full auto, could not suppress the upward curl of his own lips at this moment.
Soon they found the second one who had peed his pants in fear, hiding in a corner. Hiram handed the reloaded submachine gun to Ennio, motioning for him to do it.
These first people who followed Lance had all proven themselves in front of the newly joined members, but only Ennio was still lacking something.
This was a good opportunity.
Ennio took a deep breath, holding the submachine gun and standing nervously in front of that person.
His hands kept loosening a little and then gripping the two handles of the gun tightly.
He couldn’t see the person’s face clearly in the dark, but the person’s eyes reflected the moonlight, and he could see the fear and pleading within.
“Please…”
Outside the alley, a police car was parked there. The two police officers looked at the continuous flashes of light in the alley, which only stopped when the gunfire stopped. They looked at each other, speechless.
One of them picked up the walkie-talkie and opened the radio, “We have arrived at the scene of the report, no problems found, it might be…”
Before he could finish, gunfire rang out again, and even the person on the radio fell silent.
After the gunfire ended, he continued, “…a false alarm.”
“Roger, false alarm, you can return to base. Repeat, you can return to base.”
As for the gunshots?
What gunshots?!
Who the f—k is talking about gunshots?!
There were no gunshots at all!