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“What do we do, Lance? What can we do for our fallen brothers?”
Ethan was the first to stand up. He was big, and couldn’t completely hide behind the car, taking a shot to the backside. Now he walked with a limp, looking a bit comical.
Though comical, people couldn’t laugh. The bodies of those brothers were still in the police station’s morgue.
They had originally planned to take the bodies with them, but the police indicated they had to leave the bodies behind, which was part of accounting to the public.
Actually, these police officers were also surprised, because in their plan, many of Lance’s people would die, even be completely annihilated, so they hadn’t considered from the beginning that they could actually hold out.
So much so that when they left, the police didn’t even require them to leave any living people for accountability, and they also showed some… awe towards these people.
In fact, this kind of shootout between vibrant social organizations is all about psychological fortitude.
Even professional soldiers will collapse when their battle losses reach a certain point, let alone gang members who haven’t received professional military training or psychological preparation.
Some people die, and then the psychological resistance of the remaining few is disintegrated. They either surrender, or they try to break through, running out foolishly.
Given the clear numerical disadvantage, whether surrendering or breaking through, the final outcome is certain death.
The kind of scenario where three to five people can break through the encirclement of over a hundred armed gang members with just their legs, might only happen in popular Western movie plots.
There were no such people in reality, but Lance’s group stubbornly resisted until the last second in the back alley. Everyone fought desperately, which they found incredible and incomprehensible.
There were even two girls among them, and they seemed to have made sufficient efforts as well.
Out of surprise and consideration, they did not make Lance’s side leave anyone behind; those bodies were enough.
The oppressive feeling Ethan conveyed after standing up with his limping hip was still considerable. Lance looked at his brothers, shifted slightly forward, and sat on the edge of the sofa.
He pressed his arms on his thighs, leaning forward, “First, we need to ‘disappear’ for a while.”
“If we are always under people’s gaze, then our every move will be watched. We don’t have the advantage now, we must build our own advantage.”
“It’s possible that as soon as we get into the car, they’ll make some moves, like suddenly increasing their manpower, or doing other things.”
“Given the unequal strength between us, if we are in the light, we will obviously be at a greater disadvantage, so we must first ‘disappear’ from people’s sight.”
“If they can’t see us, they’ll get nervous, and once they’re nervous, we can find their loopholes. As long as there’s that loophole…”, Lance straightened up, reaching out his hand as if firmly grasping something in the air!
Elvin asked, “What about the office?”
Lance looked at Sean, “Sean, stay and continue working there. You don’t have to be afraid, they won’t touch the office, because behind the law firm is the livelihood of thousands of dockworkers.”
“You are safe at the office, unless they plan to go to war with the thousands of illegal immigrants at the dock.”
“As for everyone else, come with me. We don’t have a numerical advantage, so we must concentrate our strength. One punch should have the force of one punch!”
After Lance made this decision, he immediately began to make arrangements. They didn’t go out for an entire day, nor the next. The people responsible for watching them still didn’t see anyone entering or leaving on the third day. This immediately made some people, including Heller, feel that something was wrong.
That day, someone tried to check the house, and found it completely empty.
The bloody bandages left on the ground had already grown a bit of mold, suggesting they left in a hurry, and so quickly that they didn’t even have time to clean up.
How and when they left became a mystery.
Heller, who had been actively preparing to counter Lance’s revenge, also became nervous.
He no longer went to the Imperial Nightclub; he hid in his manor all day, and called together about a hundred of his subordinates to protect him.
If Lance and his people were still in the open, he wouldn’t be so nervous, because there’s something called a telephone.
As soon as Lance and his people left, he would receive a call, and he could completely use Lance’s departure to set up an ambush.
This time, there wouldn’t be a house or a back alley to provide cover, would there?
But the problem was that now the people were gone, and he didn’t know where they were, what they planned to do, or what they were doing.
Human fear of the unknown ranks first among all fears—
People’s fear of death is essentially a fear of the unknown of the afterlife, which is also why various religious faiths were able to develop rapidly during primitive times.
They explained the world after death through unscientific methods, turning the unknown into the known, which greatly alleviated people’s fear of death.
Because in their view, the world after death was no longer unknown.
Of course, to gain benefits, they also set some conditions for the afterlife, and that was faith.
Only for those with faith was the afterlife known; for those without faith, the afterlife was unknown.
When long periods of faith and religious rule turned these into a habit, even a custom, it achieved unprecedented success.
Now that Lance and his people had disappeared, it amplified Heller’s inner unease, making him like a lost lamb without faith.
He dared not go out, and often didn’t even dare to appear in front of windows, fearing Lance might ambush him from a distance.
This directly affected the normal operation of the Camille Gang. The big boss kept hiding at home, which also made some lower-level members somewhat disappointed in him.
Heller also knew the current situation was bad, but as long as Lance didn’t appear, he wouldn’t feel secure.
Someone from the Golden Port City Police Department had already informed him that his subordinates setting fire in the Triangle District had displeased some important figures, and he needed to lie low recently.
This also prevented him from sending out a large number of people to search for Lance’s group, so he could only protect himself for now.
What made him even more furious was that this wasn’t the only bad thing!
His expenses this week were substantial. To deal with Lance completely in one go, he spent 180,000, but the result was that he was mocked by the whole city like a clown.
He now had about 100,000 in funds, which was all he had left—
He originally had over 500,000 in cash. This money was more than enough to maintain a gang’s operation, but the problem was that 200,000 of it had already been paid out to cover the cost of illegal liquor.
The 180,000 spent this week, plus some subsequent expenses like medical fees, had to be factored in. At most, he would only have tens of thousands left.
Even if they used black market doctors or underground doctors, whose fees were cheaper than those of medical corporations, they couldn’t save all the costs.
Perhaps only twenty or thirty thousand, or thirty to fifty thousand, would be left. That was the limit.
He even sometimes felt that those who were severely injured might have been better off dying directly at the scene; at least the severance pay would be much less than the treatment costs!
With not much money left, he had to find a way to get some.
He had two paths to choose from. The first was to transfer his laundered money back into his account, but he wouldn’t do that.
He had spent a huge price to launder the money, and he would absolutely not touch these funds until the very end.
So he chose another method: ask Big Polly for money.
“Hey, Big Polly, I heard there’s a batch of liquor selling well on the market recently. You must have made a lot of money, right?” He opened the conversation with these words. No matter what Polly said, he would bring up the 100,000 he owed him.
But events unfolded beyond his expectations. “What liquor?”
Heller already had a vague sense of foreboding. “The liquor you took from me, worth a hundred thousand!”
On the other end of the phone, Polly’s lazy yet arrogant voice echoed in the receiver, “When the hell did I take your liquor?”
“Heller, don’t you dare think you can talk to me like that just because you’re the head of the Ca… whatever gang. If you piss me off, I’ll bring my men and kill you right now!”
“And don’t you dare call me for no reason, and don’t tell anyone you called me. How could I know a piece of trash like you?”
With that, he hung up, not giving Heller a chance to react.
Heller stared incredulously at the receiver in his hand, clutching his chest in discomfort. That son of a bitch!
My… three hundred and fifty thousand!
He quickly took out a pill and swallowed it, wishing Will and Lance to hell.
Will was first, Lance was second. He had already told Will he was going to pick up the goods the next day, but that bitch still had to act, forcing him to transfer the batch of goods.
If it weren’t for him, those subsequent events wouldn’t have happened, and he wouldn’t have lost… five hundred and fifty thousand.
His math wasn’t very good. The 200,000 principal and the liquor that could sell for 350,000 amounted to exactly 550,000.
The few subordinates standing guard at the door vaguely heard curses coming from Heller’s room.
Sometimes cursing Will, sometimes Lance, sometimes Big Polly, as if these three had done something to his family!
Heller could hide in his manor, surrounded by about a hundred people protecting him, but the high-ranking cadres couldn’t.
The money they earned had to be partly handed over to the gang, and then they had many subordinates to support themselves.
Many people think… starting a gang is easy, but you have to understand that just paying thirty people’s salaries would cost at least two thousand a month.
You can’t just give them thirty-five dollars. These people join gangs at a certain risk, not just to avoid being bullied, but primarily to make money.
The income of gang members is definitely higher than that of ordinary people.
In addition, they also have to cover their food, clothing, and other expenses, and even buy them weapons, cars, and so on.
They consume in their own bars, restaurants, or entertainment venues without paying; these all have to be factored in.
For a high-ranking cadre to support thirty subordinates, all added together, less than four thousand a month is simply not enough. This is the constraint!
Previously, Heller was supported by seven high-ranking cadres, so he was naturally rich, but for the high-ranking cadres themselves, they were not so well-off.
At night, on a corner of 13th Street in the Empire District near the Port District, there was an underground bar. This was a business run by a high-ranking cadre of the Camille Gang.
In the Empire District, the Camille Gang was the most formidable presence. No one caused trouble here, nor dared to, which paradoxically made business good.
People liked stable entertainment venues, especially places with diverse clientele.
In the once lively bar, suddenly, as a half-full glass of beer shattered on the floor, people screamed, and the bar truly became “lively.”
Security guards rushed over immediately. This wasn’t trouble between a customer and the bar, but between customers.
A girl brought by a customer said the other person touched her backside. So, it started with an argument, then escalated. With both sides drunk, it quickly escalated to physical fighting.
Both sides had quite a few people, totaling about twenty. For other customers in the bar, free fights were definitely the most exciting entertainment.
The bar’s security guards tried to separate them, but a few guards couldn’t break up a fight involving about twenty people.
Not only couldn’t they, but some security guards were also beaten and lost their guns.
The bartender immediately informed the boss. The bar’s boss, the unnamed high-ranking cadre, although he already felt something was wrong, considering the bar was one of his main sources of income and couldn’t be easily given up, he still sent a few subordinates over.
This left him with only about ten people beside him.
He felt a sense of unease. In the pitch-black night outside the house, it was as if some monster was hidden, peering at him from the darkness.
He ordered his subordinates to turn on all the lights in the house, but still felt a sense of unease, as if countless eyes were staring at him.
He sat restlessly, constantly taking his weapon and standing by the door to peek outside, then quickly returning inside. Everyone was being driven to the brink of a nervous breakdown by him!
The sudden ringing of the telephone made him shiver. He almost pulled the trigger on the phone, but thankfully he controlled himself.
He walked to the phone, picked it up, and heard the voice of a subordinate he knew, “Boss, people in the bar started shooting, you need to come over…”
Although they had suppressed the situation at the scene, it had also caused a huge impact. If he didn’t go, those people at the scene wouldn’t know how to deal with it.
Perhaps the surrounding night made him feel suppressed, and the lively atmosphere of the bar could give him a sense of security. He hesitated for a short while, then agreed.
“I’ll be right there. Keep them under control and send them to the attic.”
After saying this, he called his subordinates, “Get ready, we’re going to the bar right away.”
Having been hidden for several days, they had all grown restless. The departure of their comrades earlier had made their eyes red with jealousy. Now, hearing that they could leave for the bar, everyone sincerely supported their boss.
Two cars, one in front of the other, left the villa and drove towards 13th Street.
Actually, it wasn’t far from here to 13th Street, about a ten-minute drive. At first, he was a bit nervous when they set out, but as time passed and nothing unusual happened around them, his heart finally settled down.
At the same time, he was complaining to himself that Heller was truly useless, letting everything reach such an uncontrollable and irreversible point.
He hadn’t really figured out what had led them to this point, but as a high-ranking cadre, he didn’t believe these were his own faults.
Just as a thought of leaving the Camille Gang crossed his mind, as they passed an intersection, a suddenly bright, almost blinding light shone from the side.
He instinctively turned his head towards the light, and the front of a truck directly collided with the side door of the car he was in.
The immense impact directly caused the car body to deform, and it pushed the entire car sideways across the intersection!
Just as he frantically pulled out his gun from his waist in terror, but didn’t know whom to shoot, everything stopped with a violent jolt!
The car was rammed into the corner of a building by the roadside. The ninety-degree corner was deeply embedded in the car body. The doors on both sides couldn’t be opened, and he couldn’t escape through the windows.
He lowered his body, hiding in the back seat. Outside the car, he heard the rat-a-tat of submachine guns and the pop-pop of pistols, as well as the sound of tires skidding on the ground.
The exchange of fire seemed very intense, but everything happened very quickly, and soon, the gunshots stopped.
He was drenched in sweat. Perhaps he remembered that the driver was still there and could fight these people with him. He pushed the driver hard, but when the driver slowly turned his head, he was startled!
The twisted and deformed car body had pushed the steering wheel into the driver’s compartment, crushing the steering wheel against the driver’s chest.
Intense light shone in from the other side, illuminating his beet-red face, which looked as if blood could drip from it.
His eyeballs were bulging out, and his mouth slowly opened, but he couldn’t utter a single syllable.
The unnamed cadre shivered in fear. For the first time, he was so terrified.
He now only wanted to get away from this… person. He hid behind the passenger seat. The bright truck headlights made it hard for him to open his eyes. Perhaps the confined space enveloped him, giving him a sense of… security.
Suddenly, the tapping sound of shoe studs on the ground nearby made him tense. He stealthily raised his head and looked towards the direction of the sound.
In the dark night, three figures holding submachine guns, wearing trench coats and hats, with the shadows from their brims obscuring their faces, were walking towards him, backlit by the truck’s headlights!
He sharply recoiled, trying to lie as flat as possible on the car’s floor, praying to the Federation’s God or the Empire’s God for all of this to pass.
The truck slowly drove away, but he felt no joy whatsoever. When a person appeared outside the car window and saw him, he said in a voice almost only audible to himself—
“Please…”
Just like countless others who had said that to him, but were still killed by him, so much fear, and despair!
“May God bless you, my friend!”
Three muzzles instantly spat out sparks with a rat-a-tat, and a few seconds later, the four cars and the truck simultaneously left the scene, leaving only the two cars and the bodies inside.