Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 3: Hard work
Thiago felt a pang of remorse, but he steeled himself and walked over, grabbing the woman's arm and dragging her backward.

“Pedro is dead.” The woman released her grip, letting herself be pulled away, but still tilted her head back, her eyes fixed stubbornly on Zhou Yi:

"If you didn't kill him, they did. I don't care."

"But you have to pay for the portion I know."

"Your share?"

"Of course, at least 30,000 reais, otherwise there's no room for negotiation."

Zhou Yi raised an eyebrow slightly and looked down at the woman whose brain had been damaged by drugs.

Despite his thin frame, he was unusually excited.

His unfocused pupils held a hint of fanaticism.

Perhaps because of his relationship with Pedro, he has always been a powerful figure in the neighborhood.

Seeing that no one paid attention to her, her tone suddenly changed, and she began to speak to Zhou Yi in a threatening tone.

“Don’t forget, Pedro is Emilio’s man, Primeiro Comando do Alemo, porra! You bunch of sons of bitches, if you want to live comfortably, you’ll have to make me comfortable first—”

what!
Upon hearing this, Zhou Yi suddenly laughed, directly interrupting the woman's long-winded speech:
Do you know why I don't show my face?

The woman was stunned.

"Because you didn't have to die, you idiot."

As soon as she finished speaking, the cold muzzle of a gun was pointed at her forehead.

Then the trigger was pulled.

There was a gunshot.

Thiago has learned his lesson this time.

Just as the bullet passed through, he tilted his head to the side, avoiding the blood splattering on his face.

Even so, his face still twitched involuntarily a few times when he saw the female corpse lying limp on the ground.

Zhou Yi sighed helplessly and casually sat down on the mattress.

Why is it so hard to be a good person?

He waved for Thiago to come closer, and after rummaging around for a while, Thiago finally pulled out a pen and half a cigarette case from the pile of junk.

After tossing the items to Thiago, Zhou Yi lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.
"Come on, draw out the layout of Emilio's house first. It's okay if you can't remember them all."

"By the way, does his family have something even more powerful?"

"No?"

"What about aluminum oxide, hydrogen peroxide, acetone, and the like?"

"nor?"

"Okay, at least those two gas cylinders over there are full, right?"

|04:12 AM|
The nights in the Mare slums remain bustling.

The narrow alleyway echoed with the barking of dogs and the distant music of revelry.

Emilio's villa was built halfway up the mountain, and its white-painted walls looked glaringly bright under the streetlights.

Two Honda pickup trucks covered with tarpaulins were parked in the yard, and several piles of second-hand furniture were casually stacked next to them.

Two guards leaned lazily against the wall, their submachine guns hanging limply beside their knees.

One of them dawdled for a while, and just as he lit a cigarette, he suddenly frowned and pointed to the dilapidated car parked not far away.

"Paul, what's wrong with that car?"

"What car?"

"When did that black car drive up here?"

The man named Paul squinted and pondered for a while, then suddenly relaxed and smiled as he answered:

"You're too nervous, buddy. That's Pedro's car. He's probably off messing around in some brothel again."

“Pedro? But Emilio isn’t the same genius as the previous two—”

Before he could finish speaking, two beeps came from the car, and then flames engulfed the entire street.

"boom--!"

A loud bang ripped through the night sky.

The car was instantly torn into several pieces, with metal shards and broken glass shooting everywhere.

The massive shockwave sent the iron gate flying. The two guards were thrown to the ground before they could even get out of the way.

The man who had been smoking earlier was pierced through the head by a shard and died instantly.

Paul screamed and rolled around clutching his leg, blood gushing from his torn thigh.

Immediately afterwards, he heard footsteps.

Paul's vision blurred, and as he struggled to lift his head, he saw a masked man emerge from the shadows.

He saw the man lower his rifle, and a flash of light passed from the muzzle.

A moment later, the world fell silent.

Without pausing, Zhou Yi leaned forward slightly and advanced into the courtyard in small, quick steps, keeping a distance of half a meter from the wall.

As my gaze swept across the second-floor balcony, I noticed a somewhat bewildered sentry standing there.

The explosion a dozen seconds earlier had woken him up, and he was now leaning out to try and see what was happening outside.

Zhou Yi steadied his steps, squatted down slightly, tightened his shoulders, and steadily locked his aim at the target's head with each breath.

A light tap of the trigger.

"boom."

The bullet pierced the sentry's skull with pinpoint accuracy.

The man fell backward, the gun slipping from his hand and making a crisp metallic sound as it hit the ground.

Zhou Yi did not linger.

After confirming that there was no longer any threat to the balcony and the surrounding environment, he adjusted his breathing and kicked open the villa door.

The living room was dimly lit, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of some kind of burning substance.

Several stacks of cash and submachine guns were scattered on the central table.

Five young men, still lying on top of each other, were dazed, clearly not having been brought back to their senses by the earlier explosion.

After scanning the area, Zhou Yi quickly raised his gun and fired a few shots.

|04:13 AM|
Finally, a panicked commotion came from upstairs.

The sound of hurried footsteps accompanied by muttered curses, interspersed with the sound of a chair being overturned.

Zhou Yi quickened his pace, afraid that the money bag would run away.

After all, according to Thiago's description, there were quite a few secret passages in the villa.

He stepped lightly up the stairs, slightly raising the muzzle of his gun to his shoulder, preparing to fire.

Just as they were nearing the end of the corridor, a young man carrying a shotgun rushed out from around the corner, looking panicked.

Their eyes met, and the man froze for half a second, not expecting someone to touch him.

However, before they could react, the bullets had already arrived.

Blood blossomed, and the young man staggered back half a step before collapsing powerlessly in the corner.

Zhou Yi did not stop and continued to push forward.

To the left of the second-floor corridor is a connecting walkway, through which you can see the flickering firelight in the courtyard.

The door to the first room on the right was tightly closed, but the faint light shining through the crack in the door still gave away the whereabouts of the person hiding.

Zhou Yi aimed at the hinge, and with a few gunshots, he kicked it.

The wooden door collapsed with tremendous force, crashing down on the two people hiding behind it.

The other person was caught off guard and pinned to the ground, letting out a few muffled groans.

Zhou Yi seized the fleeting opening, turned sideways, raised his gun, and fired two short bursts, the two bullets piercing through the door panel and killing the enemy directly.

Seeing that there was no more movement below, Zhou Yi half-squatted down and used the butt of his gun to lift the door panel, then looked down to examine the body by the light from above.

Damn, there are no tattoos on his face.

It's not Emilio.

After muttering a curse under his breath, Zhou Yi quickly got up and, after checking the remaining rooms and the outdoor swimming pool, went to the end of the corridor.

That was the staircase leading to the third floor, blocked by a heavy door that was locked from the inside.

|04:15 AM|
Zhou Yi adjusted the position of his mask, bent down to pick up the fallen shotgun, aimed it at the door frame where the latch was embedded, and pulled the trigger.

boom!
The muffled gunshots echoed through the narrow corridor.

(End of this chapter)