North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 168 John Wicker: "???" (Seeking monthly votes)
"Fake!!!"

The Italian stared at Rorschach with a contorted expression, wanting to curse but only able to twitch his lips due to the excruciating pain; sweat had already soaked through his expensive suit.

"Mr. Antonio!"

Winston's heart sank to the bottom.

He should have realized that, given Luo Xia's vengeful and mad dog-like nature, he wouldn't fall for threats.
Seeing Rorschach's finger on the trigger again, he lunged forward to block the gun, his voice trembling: "Mr. Butcher! Do you know what you're doing? This is the son of a High Table council member! You not only violated the hotel's rules by firing a gun, but you also seriously injured a council member!"

"Really? The son of the High Table Council member?"

Rorschach glanced at him coldly, "Could it be that your status is higher than that of the Speaker of the House?"

"This"

Winston was speechless.

In his eyes, the High Table Council held immense power and controlled the order of the underworld, but compared to the Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, they were indeed several levels below.

Seeing that Rorschach was determined to kill Antonio, Winston gripped the scorching gun barrel tightly, almost pleading, "Mr. Butcher, please do me a favor! He can't die! He absolutely cannot die in my hotel!"

Luo Xia watched the old man's fearful yet pleading expression and narrowed his eyes slightly.

Every time he came to the hotel, the manager was always courteous and never showed him any disrespect or contempt because of his status as a wanted criminal. His parting words, "It was an honor to meet you, Mr. Butcher," were so sincere and touching.
“Okay, Winston.”

Rorschach holstered his gun and patted the old man on the shoulder affectionately.

"For your sake, I'll kill him after he leaves the hotel."

Winston paused, sensing that Rorschach seemed to have misunderstood him.

But he had no time to explain at that moment. He hurriedly called to the stunned waiter and carried Antonio, whose leg was broken, to the infirmary.

What troubled him even more was that the young master's lower leg had been blown to pieces, and even the stitched-up remains could not be found.

"Shit, what the hell is this?!"

As he left, Winston glared fiercely at Bump, who was sweating profusely—if he had known he would get into such big trouble, he would never have let this black man set foot in the Continental Hotel!
At this moment, only Rorschach and Bump's family remained in the restaurant.

As for Ginny, after being splattered with blood, she angrily punched Rorschach twice, gave Bump a cold glance, and went to the bathroom to clean up the bloodstains.

An atmosphere of despair permeated the dining table.

Sudden--

"Go to hell you!!!"

Bump roared and pulled out the pistol hidden under the table, but before he could raise his hand, a bullet shattered his right arm!

"Ah!!! Fuck!!!"

He was thrown several meters by the impact and crashed heavily to the ground.

But the old black man's willpower was clearly much stronger than that of the Italian pretty boy; after cursing a few times, he actually endured the excruciating pain.

However, immediately afterward, the muzzle of a gun, billowing smoke, was pointed at his head.

“I know I’m going to die,” Bump pleaded, trembling, “but please don’t do anything to my family. They’re innocent.”

"Oh?"

Rorschach released the trigger and glanced around the table.

It has to be said that Bumper is indeed very fertile, with four or five children and a row of grandchildren, the youngest of whom is just learning to walk.

“Don’t let the children see this,” Bump’s voice choked. “I don’t want them to see me, their father, in such a vulnerable state.”

"Dad, if he dares to kill you, I will avenge you!"

"Bump, don't say that. You'll always be our family's hero."

"grandfather."

A cacophony of cries erupted around him. Rorschach looked at Bump's pleading eyes, sighed softly, and nodded.

"Okay, I promise you."

Bump breathed a sigh of relief, a slight smile even appearing on his lips.

Even after he dies, his family can continue to live a comfortable life, and so can his grandchildren.
"Bang! Bang!!!"

The sudden gunshot ruthlessly shattered his illusions!
Bump stared in disbelief—Rorschach, who had just made a promise, was now pointing a gun at his family!

"Bang bang——"

The entire restaurant echoed with deafening gunshots and the sound of bolts being pulled back!
Besides Bump, his wife, children, grandchildren, and sixteen other people didn't even have time to scream before their heads were all blown to pieces!
"Fake!!!"

Coming to his senses, Bomb let out a heart-wrenching scream: "You promised to let them go! You treacherous beast! You devil!" Rorschach wiped the blood from his face and slowly walked up to the gang godfather.

Seeing the other man's devastated state, he smiled knowingly: "Brother, I only promised not to kill you in front of your family. Now that they're all dead, they naturally won't see it."

"You demon, you damned demon!"

Bump, trembling, pointed at Rorschach and hysterically cursed, "They're just kids! You'll go to hell! You will!"

Rorschach's expression gradually turned cold, and he uttered several names, one word at a time: "Isabella, Sophia, Oliver, Taylor, Matteo."

With each name read aloud, Bump's face grew paler.

“These are all innocent people who died at your hands. The list is very long and may not be finished even in one night.”

Luo Xia sneered and questioned, "Don't they have parents and children? Their children might not even have enough to eat, and their parents might be crying every day while holding their funeral portraits!"

"Why can other people's family members die, while your family members can live a carefree life with money stained with blood?"

"tell me!!!"

He suddenly roared in fury.

Bump shuddered, then gave a bitter laugh: "I don't know what you're talking about. But I'll be waiting for you in hell! You demon, you will definitely go to hell! You definitely will!"

Rorschach scoffed, "Believe me, buddy, I'd love to go to hell and kill all of you beasts again!"

"Bam—!"

The gunshot ended all words, sealing the man's final curse forever in his throat.

In the hotel lobby, Winston listened to the commotion coming from the restaurant and sighed deeply.

At this moment, he had lost his usual composure and elegance, and his brows were full of fatigue.

"Notify them."

He ordered Charon, the Black receptionist, "Issue a bloody warrant and summon all the killers in New York."

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Charon hesitated. “It would be better to wait until he leaves the hotel.”

Winston shook his head and interrupted, "I think so too, but he injured Antonio's youngest son, and the High Table will not let this go. We must make the right move."

After a moment of silence, Charon finally dialed the red hotline number at the front desk.

Five minutes later, all the killers in New York will gather here, with only one target—Rorschach Butcher, who dared to kill and harm the son of the High Table Director in the hotel.

Winston stubbed out his cigar, preparing to go and give Rorschach a heads-up.

They used to get along well, and out of consideration for that relationship, I advised him to run away if he could.

However, just as he took a step, a deafening roar suddenly resounded throughout the hotel!

Winston peered through the doors and windows, his brow furrowing in shock—

Dozens of armed helicopters hovered at low altitude, their cold rocket launchers and heavy machine gun muzzles pointing directly at the lobby; the streets were completely blocked off, and dozens of armed armored vehicles surrounded the hotel.

"boom--!"

The gate was forcibly broken open.

Fully armed special forces filed in!

These elite combat units, equipped with four-eye night vision goggles, heavy body armor, and MPX submachine guns, quickly took control of all entrances and exits.

--------

Outside a glass villa in the suburbs.

John had just filled a bowl of dog food for his newly adopted puppy and was about to stretch and go to bed.

The phone suddenly rang.

He stared at the flashing contacts on the screen, remained silent for a moment, and then pressed the answer button.

The next second, Santino Antonio's face, contorted with rage, filled the entire screen.

"John! I command you as the blood pact holder!"

Santino gritted his teeth, his voice hoarse, "Bring me Rorschach's head before dawn!"

The image is shaky, and his blood-soaked severed leg is vaguely visible.

"That bastard is at the Mainland Hotel right now! Kill him immediately! Right now!!!"

(End of this chapter)