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Chapter 483 Heavenly Kingdom Pyramid Scheme Church

Chapter 483 Heavenly Kingdom Pyramid Scheme Church (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

"LAPD (Los Angeles Police Department)!"

A shout rang out from the street corner, and several Latino men who were moving goods in the warehouse cursed, dropped the goods they were carrying, and ran away.

Four police cars were already parked at the entrance, and eight fully armed Los Angeles police officers rushed in, guns at the ready. The leader shouted, "Put down your weapons immediately! You are under arrest!"

The leader, a Latino man, quickly raised his hand and said, "Officer, this is just a regular warehouse. We're just working."

The white police officer in charge shook his head and said, "This may be an ordinary warehouse, but you are from the 18th Street gang in Los Angeles. Come with me immediately."

The lead Latino man reached into his breast pocket and argued, "Sir, we are legal immigrants, we are just working—"

"Gun! Shoot!" the white police officer shouted, and several officers immediately pulled the triggers, riddling the Latino leader with bullets.

Upon seeing this, the remaining workers immediately turned around and ran as fast as they could, desperately heading towards the back door.

"Stop! Or we'll shoot!"

"shooting!"

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"

Warning shouts and gunshots came from behind, but fortunately the terrain inside the warehouse was quite complicated, and the workers quickly turned a corner and disappeared.

The police officers who remained at the scene then walked toward the fallen worker. One of them turned the body over with his foot, and an immigrant work card slipped out of his chest pocket.

There were no guns.

The other party just wanted to show their identification.

The officers exchanged glances, and the captain shrugged, saying, "Tyan, let this gentleman prove himself."

The other party nodded and smiled, "Of course, boss, you're in charge."

As he spoke, he took an iron hook from a nearby shelf with his gloved hand and shoved it into the corpse's hand.

He then took out an envelope from his pocket, from which he took out a small plastic bag containing some white crystalline powder and stuffed it into the corpse's trouser pocket.

After all this was done, a just execution of justice, triggered by drug dealers' violent resistance to law enforcement, was now a done deal.

Meanwhile, in a corner of the warehouse, behind a few shelves, two workers who hadn't had time to escape witnessed this scene, their faces showing sorrow and anger.

The two men cautiously emerged from the back door of the warehouse. One of them had been shot in the abdomen during their escape and was covered in blood.

"Hey, brother, Lika, you'd better get out of here—" The young man who had been shot sat down against the wall, his face pale and his forehead covered in sweat.

"I can't go to the hospital, they'll deport me—and the two illegal clinics I know of have already been shut down. Hey, Lika, my brother, help me send this money home, I think I'll be fine soon."

As he spoke, he took out a roll of coins of varying amounts from his pocket and stuffed it into the other person's hand.

His friend didn't take the money; instead, he pulled him up and helped him walk forward, saying, "Don't worry, Soren, things aren't as bad as they seem. Let's go to the Poor Street! I heard that Saint Wayne is there; he'll bless you—"

"Do you know Mad Dog Dick? He has an autistic daughter, but Mr. Saint blessed and exorcised her, completely awakening her—"

Similar scenes are playing out in many places throughout the Los Angeles metropolitan area.

The Mexican Mafia itself is an alliance of thousands of small gangs, with only a few hundred members of the committee forming the core of the entire Mexican Mafia.

As Operation Sinaloa, launched by the Los Angeles Police Department, intensified, those smaller gang branches suffered greatly.

Numerous gang members were either killed or captured, and countless others were injured.

Moreover, although the Mexican Mafia sounds impressive with tens of thousands of members, most of its ordinary gang members still need to work to make a living, and are essentially more like people who stick together for warmth.

For them, this was a completely undeserved disaster.

Many people are killed or arrested at work simply because they have a gang affiliation record.

For a time, the Mexican Mafia, which was engaged in a full-scale war with the Russian gang, temporarily ceased its operations, giving the Russian gang a chance to catch its breath.

Andrei immediately assembled the elite forces of the Russian gang, forming a special operations team. Taking advantage of the police's crackdown on the Mexican Mafia, they looted and killed many members of the Mexican Mafia.

The Russian gang's territory had expanded significantly, and they were actively recruiting, bringing in many veterans from the Russia-Ukraine conflict and venturing into street operations.

For a time, the Russian gang became famous throughout Los Angeles' underworld, enjoying unparalleled influence.

And those Mexican Mafia low-level gang members who were injured in the shootouts gradually accepted a fact:

To survive a gunshot wound, you must go to the Saints' Guild in the Poor Street and ask the Saint for a blessing!

As for the arrest warrant issued by the Mexican Mafia Commission?

That's an arrest warrant for Bruce Wayne. What does it have to do with Mr. Saint?

"Sir, thank you for your blessing, I—I have come back to life—"

Inside a tent in the slums, Sauron, who had been shot in the abdomen, looked at his wound, now reduced to a small scar, and then at the bullet lying on the ground, his face filled with gratitude and disbelief.

Without further ado, he knelt down before Wayne, prostrated himself, and proclaimed himself a saint.

Anyone who personally experiences a miracle is bewildered.

"Oh, Saint, I express my sincerest gratitude and repentance to you—"

"I actually had the evil thought of assassinating you for the bounty; I almost fell into the devil's path—"

"I beg for your forgiveness, please forgive me, a sinner—"

Soren said in a trembling voice.

After seeing the bounty offered by the Mexican Mafia Commission, he once considered assassinating Wayne in the poorest neighborhood to seize the enormous fortune.

Looking back now, I realize I had no idea how high heaven was or how deep hell was.

To dare lay a hand on such a true saint, the Messiah who has returned, is a sin worthy of hell.

"Sir, I've heard they've all joined the Church of Heaven. I wonder if I, a sinner, have the same opportunity?" Soren looked at Wayne with fervent eyes and said, "Please, you must give me a chance to atone—"

With a compassionate expression, Wayne said, "If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness—"

"Sauron, my child, since you sincerely wish to cleanse yourself of your sins, then you will have this opportunity."

"Go out and tell old Will that you have received my promise to join the Church of Heaven, that you are a redeemer—"

—”

Soren, feeling as if he had been granted a pardon, immediately crawled forward on his knees and kissed Wayne's footprints.

He then turned and left the tent, going outside.

At this time, there were still many people queuing up to receive the saint's blessing, and many people immediately asked him questions after seeing Solon.

Soren proudly lifted his shirt to reveal the scar that had healed after being blessed by the saint, showing everyone the miracle that had happened to him, which immediately drew cheers, whistles and applause.

Many of the gang members in line looked on with envy and hope.

Sauron's wounds were healed by the blessing, and their pain would obviously be alleviated as well.

Soren walked to the street corner and saw a group of people sitting on the ground. In the middle were several people wearing gray hooded robes and an old man with gray hair.

The old man was preaching, recounting the righteous deeds of saints and the power of miracles, and the people around him listened with rapt attention.

Once the other person finished preaching, Soren immediately stepped forward and noticed that several other men with Mexican Mafia tattoos had also gathered around.

"Sir, the saints sent me to you. I am a redeemer, and I wish to join the Church of Heaven." Soren said earnestly.

He said.

The others gave the same explanation.

Old Will, with his gray hair, nodded and said, "Redeemers, the saints have long ago left you a small door to salvation."

"If you want to join the Church of Heaven, you only need to persuade ten lost sheep to join you."

Soren and the others suddenly realized what was going on. Almost without hesitation, they bowed to Old Will and immediately left to find their friend and recruit members for the Church of Heaven.

The Mexican Mafia has tens of thousands of members in its various gangs, enough to keep them busy.

Moreover, in their view, this is an absolutely good thing, a salvation for relatives and friends. I wouldn't tell just anyone this.

This kind of once-in-a-lifetime opportunity is only available to close relatives and friends.

As for your question about the Mexican Mafia Commission being after Bruce Wayne?

As I said before, what does this have to do with Mr. Saint?

At the same time, inside the tent, Wayne's phone suddenly vibrated.

He casually pressed the answer button, and a familiar voice immediately rang out: "Father, it's me."

This is Rafael's voice: "El Menjo is dead, and Mexico has entered a state of civil war."

Your basic Witch Doctor skill has been improved: Master 45.1% + 2.4%

Experience Points: 110+24

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