Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 557 The bottle's opening connects to the brain; alcohol replaces thought.

The butcher hung up the phone with a dark expression.

The two, Mother's Milk and Franky, who had been listening intently, watched the Butcher's expression and fell silent for a moment. The three of them looked at each other in a strange atmosphere.

"Ha, Old Ma's social skills are pretty good."

Franky forced a dry laugh, his voice trailing off as he spoke: "It's pretty weird."

"He can even speak Russian?" Kimiko typed on her phone. "Is this some kind of mysterious Eastern power? I'd like to learn it."

“I’d rather learn the tricks that turn cars into robots.” Franky shrugged. “But those kinds of things are probably not passed down to outsiders, so all I want to know now is why he went into the mob.”

Without saying a word, the butcher got up, put on his coat, and covered his gun with it.

“Whatever that bastard is doing,” he sneered. “Now is not the time to go drinking with the Russian mafia. I’m going to drag him out.”

What if a fight breaks out?

"Then let's fight."

The butcher pushed open the door and got into the car, while Franky, Breast Milk, and Kimiko followed closely behind.

It's hard to say whether they went there to lend their support or just to watch the spectacle.

"You went to the Sagewood Forest this time, did it go well?" Butcher asked as he started the car. "I didn't go with you. What happened to that bastard Lamplighter?"

When the lamplighter was mentioned, Franky's expression became somewhat dazed.

"He died a very thorough death. We wanted to take him hostage, but he was struck dead by Storm's lightning."

"Ha, that thing got off too cheap."

At this point, the butcher paused: "What about Mallory? Did you tell her?"

“I told her,” Franky replied. “Her expression was quite complicated, and she cried quite a lot—don’t look at me like that, I know this kind of thing seems strange for that old CIA colonel, but after all, they found the murderer of her grandson and granddaughter, and this matter has been a nightmare that has haunted her for so many years, and now it finally has a result.”

The butcher fell silent.

The car drove into the city in silence. Perhaps feeling that the car windows were indeed very soundproof, Butcher asked again, "Did the CIA find anything of value at the scene?"

"Besides the superpowered lunatics all over the place, there were some experimental records and a diary."

The mother continued, "The lamplighter's diary is almost entirely about his own experiences, but he mentions that incident from time to time. He also mentions Frankie, saying that if the CIA hadn't left that day, he wouldn't have burned his two children to death, and he has nightmares every night about being burned alive."

He shook his head: "That guy seems to have been waiting for this day for a long time too."

"When? The day we die?"

Franky remained silent in the back seat, but Butcher scoffed, "If he wanted to die, why didn't he die sooner? Why did he have to keep doing these disgusting chores for Walter? If you ask me, the way he died today was too quick and too cheap."

Breast Milk shrugged: "Anyway, the colonel is over it now. You can go see her when you have time—you two fell out because of the lamplighter, but now that it's finally resolved, you can probably sit down and have a chat."

"No way, absolutely impossible."

The butcher immediately denied it: "She trained me from an ordinary middle-aged office worker into a cold-blooded, ruthless killer, teaching me stealth, shooting, interrogation, and stalking. That's how I became who I am today."

"Unless you need something from her?"

"Unless you need something from her."

"Your bottom line is really flexible."

"She taught me that too."

Breast milk couldn't help but rub her forehead: "Listen, you two don't need to make things so tense. You know your bastard nature wasn't taught by her, it's your dad's fault. She also knows your plan wasn't the most important reason for her grandchildren's deaths, you're just both angry." "Anyway, I can't be bothered to see him."

squeak--

The butcher slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching against the pavement, and the people inside lurched forward.

Boom!
Boom!
The superpowered Kimiko and the butcher, who was prepared and had his seatbelt fastened, were both unharmed. However, the breast milk and Franky collided solidly, and the breast milk caused a sharp pain in the head.

"Butcher, you're a real bastard!"

"Stop talking nonsense, we're here."

The butcher sneered and raised two middle fingers to express his apology to the two men; this was probably his personality all his life.

Of course, this didn't apply when Ma Zhaodi was around. The butcher was completely suppressed by Ma Zhaodi. According to Ma Zhaodi himself, that bastard was even more of a bastard than him, which was a case of hierarchical suppression.

The three arrived at the location Ma Zhaodi had mentioned on the phone. Seeing that there was no one guarding the gang's large iron gate, they were a little suspicious. Butcher, on the other hand, casually pushed the gate open.

"Are we still going in?" Franky swallowed hard. "This place is a bit different from usual. According to some friends I know, those Russians are not to be trifled with; they have a bad reputation."

Frankie's "friends" refer to members of other gangs.

"What's there to be afraid of? That bastard Old Ma is in there too."

The butcher strode inside with an air of authority: "And who can be as fierce as us?"

"I can't say."

The group walked through the courtyard and found it empty. They went further in but still didn't see a single person.

"This scene seems somewhat familiar."

The mother instinctively muttered a complaint, but no one responded. The butcher placed his hand on the gun at his waist; something was definitely wrong in this gang's territory.

The three of them cautiously pushed open the door and entered the house where the gang members gathered—this was probably the gang members' collective activity place, a kind of headquarters.

An hour later, the front door of the house suddenly opened.

Vodka! Hahaha!

Reeking of alcohol, Ma Zhaodi held a bottle of liquor, with a burly man with a flushed face tucked under his arm, pouring liquor into his mouth repeatedly. Neither of them seemed to be acting rationally.

"Good brother!"

The burly man, his eyes glazed over with drunkenness and his steps unsteady, slapped Ma Zhaodi's shoulder hard with his large hand: "Again, again! I can still drink!"

Boom!
After saying this, the man's tall body collapsed to the ground, clearly unable to drink any more.

"This trip was definitely worthwhile."

Franky staggered out, a bottle of vodka in his hand: "This is the first time in my life I've seen such a pure party, nothing but alcohol."

"It's either you die or I live; only the one who can stand at the end deserves to live. I didn't know Russian gangsters could be so ruthless to their own people."

He also chimed in with a few words about the breast milk that came out; besides having one bottle in his hand, he also had two more bottles in his pocket.

"vomit--"

The butcher rushed into the bushes as soon as he came out and started vomiting; he was the one who had been force-fed the most.

As for Kimiko—Kimiko collapsed to the ground and could not get up again.

(End of this chapter)