In a public phone booth, a middle-aged man dressed in ordinary, even somewhat shabby clothes, was holding a black receiver, but his attention was on the person outside the phone booth.
A young man, whom everyone around called Morris.
Morris’s father was a well-known gambler in the Empire District and also liked to drink. Morris grew up between casinos and bars.
He always ran errands for his father or others to earn some pocket money.
In fact, from this perspective, he should have had the most comfortable childhood among Ennio’s group!
Everyone on the street knew him, and he could get a penny or two in errand fees from each errand.
The man in the phone booth, who reeked of alcohol, was a friend of his father’s. The two of them gambled and got drunk together and had always been on good terms.
Naturally, his relationship with Morris was also good.
He was thinking about some recent rumors and changes when the phone suddenly connected, “Hello, Michael?”
“F—k, it’s me. I’m on Phoenix Road right now. Is there any place to drink around here?”
“This stinking downtown, it’s so inconvenient to get a drink. Is this the good place you were talking about?”
“…I don’t know, this place is really terrible. No casinos, no bars. How can you survive here?”
“Is that so? They won’t hit me, will they? The people downtown are very arrogant, even the pedestrians are like this… Fine, it’s my treat, hurry up!”
He hung up the phone, came out of the public phone booth, and looked at Morris with a fawning expression, “My friend lives around here, we’re on good terms. He’ll take us to a nearby bar, but…”
He scratched his head with some embarrassment, “I promised to treat.”
Obviously, he didn’t have the money for this. The liquor prices in the downtown bars were not cheap. A beer that would cost thirty cents in the Empire District would probably cost around fifty cents here.
As for the slightly better whiskeys, an ounce would cost over $1.
The price of liquor was still rising rapidly. In the Empire District, Lance took care of them, so the liquor prices were not high, and they could still afford it.
If they lived elsewhere, they wouldn’t be able to afford to drink every day, and even then, only once every three or five days.
Plus, Morris’s current status was different from the past, so when Morris needed his help to find a bar here, he agreed at once.
Before long, a cursing middle-aged man walked over from a distance. He hugged Morris’s father’s friend, and then glanced at Morris.
His father’s friend explained, “This is my friend’s son. He’s treating today!”
Hearing that someone was treating, the newcomer’s expression softened a lot. He shook hands with Morris, his tone carrying a slight hint of contempt, “The prices downtown aren’t low. Are you sure you can afford it?”
Morris took out a wad of cash, at least $30 or $40. The man whistled, “Follow me.”
The three of them crossed two streets and arrived outside a nondescript small detached building.
The entire house was completely dark at night, with no noisy sounds. You could only vaguely smell some alcohol, but it wasn’t strong and was easily overlooked.
The man knocked hard on the small side door a few times. With a “click,” the observation port opened, revealing a pair of wary eyes.
“F—k, it’s me. These are my friends and his nephew. F—king open the door, I can’t hold it anymore!”
Morris laughed. This was an old drunkard!
The person who came looked up and down at the two strangers beside him. Seeing that they didn’t look like agents from the Bureau of Hazardous Materials, he then opened the door.
He also warned, “You can drink, but don’t get drunk and cause trouble, or we’ll kick you out!”
Only after he finished speaking did he step aside and let the three of them in.
The bar was not small, with two floors, totaling about four hundred square meters. There were already quite a few people here, people of all kinds, and some girls.
Single girls had become a standard feature in bars now. Their value was to attract those single drunkards to spend more.
The three of them bought some drinks, and the two middle-aged men began to brag to each other. They started by talking about the recent situation in Golden Port, then talked about a series of new documents signed by the president, the rare additional conscription plan of the Ministry of Defense, and also talked about the international situation.
Listening to them chat, it was as if they were the heads of two countries, discussing some major national affairs. Whether it was the president or Congress, in their eyes, they were all nothing!
After a few drinks, they began to criticize the current political situation. Perhaps they had crossed a line slightly. The bartender walked up to them and knocked on the bar counter, “You’ve had too much to drink!”
He kindly reminded them, “I’ll give you two glasses of ice water for free. Calm down, or go outside and get some fresh air…”
Hearing their disrespectful remarks, although there weren’t necessarily any police here, the bartender still had a bit of a headache.
These frustrated middle-aged men always talked about these things after drinking too much, as if they really had the ability to manage the country—
If they really did, they wouldn’t be so poor that they had to calculate when drinking at a bar.
After nearly an hour, the two were finally satisfied with their drinks. This was the most comfortable they had drunk this year!
The two of them left the bar with their arms around each other’s shoulders. Morris followed behind them, watching them urinate together in the middle of the road, and running with laughter after being illuminated by the car headlights.
He himself walked to a phone booth, “I’m at the intersection of Fourth Avenue and Phoenix Road. There’s a…” he looked around, “There’s a pink oral sex billboard.”
Not far above the phone booth, there was a pink neon mouth. The unlit neon tongue inside was constantly rotating, like a vortex, a suction cup!
This was the most blatant kind of oral sex shop. After entering, there was a long row of sofas, and some people might be queuing.
When it was your turn, you would be led to a separate room. The light was very dim, and then a girl whose face couldn’t be seen clearly would come and get straight to the point.
The price of oral sex downtown was not cheap, starting at at least $6, or even $8.
Some people would rather walk a few more steps or take a car to the Port District to find one for $1 or $2, rather than spend so much to enjoy the same service.
These services were currently legal in the Federation. This was not sex, so naturally, it did not constitute a sexual transaction. As long as it was not a sexual transaction, it was not illegal!
Hiram’s laughter came from the receiver, “You can take some time to enjoy it. We’ll be there soon.”
Morris cursed him a couple of times and then hung up the phone. He then found a place to sit down and lit a cigarette.
A dozen minutes later, five cars stopped on the side of the road.
Hiram got out of the car, flicking his hair. He saw Morris at a glance, “You’re done so quickly?”
Morris walked over and hugged him, then looked at the others, “Follow me…”
The group returned to the small detached building. Morris knocked on the door, and the doorman once again revealed his eyes.
He glanced at Morris, “You were just here.”
Morris did not deny it, “I want to buy a bottle to take home and drink.”
The doorman observed him, then looked around. Seeing no one else, he said “wait,” and then closed the observation port.
Then came the sound of the bolt being opened. To prevent people from the Bureau of Hazardous Materials from easily rushing in, this door had many bolts.
About ten seconds later, the door opened. Just as the doorman pushed the door open, he slowly raised his hands.
His eyes were filled with fear and also anger. He looked at Morris as if to say, “You f—king sold us out.”
Morris punched him in the abdomen, “I don’t f—king like the look in your eyes, you bastard!”
As he spoke, he pushed him into the room and then locked the door.
The unique, complex smell of the bar, accompanied by some music. Hiram squinted his eyes slightly. He seemed to particularly like and be intoxicated by this environment.
He lit a cigarette, took a satisfying drag, and let it dangle from his mouth, half-closing the eye on the cigarette side to avoid the smoke.
Then, holding a submachine gun with both hands, he strode into the middle of the bar and directly pulled the trigger!
“Clear the field!”
The customers screamed and fell to the ground. Only the bar’s security guards and staff were still standing. They didn’t seem to have figured out what was going on.
Hiram flicked his hair and aimed directly at the person closest to him. He held down the trigger, walking and shooting at the same time.
By the time he got close to this person, the bullets had all been fired!
And the person in front of him had been riddled with bullets!
In an instant, the entire bar was filled with gunshots, screams, and shrieks!
This was the largest bar of the Gregg family. Upstairs, three high-ranking cadres were discussing matters after Karles’s death. They had not yet reached a consensus.
One person suggested taking revenge on Karles and attacking the members of the Lance Family.
Another person believed that Karles was already dead, and the so-called Gregg family was already destroyed. There was no need for them to sacrifice themselves for the already-destroyed Gregg family.
These Segon people who had gradually taken root in the Federation were actually no different from the Summurian-descended Federation citizens. Their self-identification as “Federation citizens” had already begun to override their recognition of race and bloodline!
There was another one who said everything was good, but also that everything was not good.
The three were considering what to do in the future when intense gunfire suddenly erupted from downstairs. The three were stunned, their faces changed, but they immediately went to get their weapons and looked downstairs.
The firefight downstairs was basically almost over. For a prepared attack against an unprepared one, resistance was futile!
Just as two of the high-ranking cadres were still in a daze, the high-ranking cadre who had always advocated fighting Lance and his group, regardless of whether he knew the people or not, directly fired a shot at one person.
The abrupt gunshot made everyone curse inwardly and immediately hide. Then the stairs to the second floor were hit by concentrated fire.
The guy who had fired first instantly rolled down the stairs with the stairs, while the other two guys could only run back…
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