I revived the Demonic Sect in North America

Li Ang paused for a moment, then smiled and shook his head, saying:

"Kevin, no need. This is my business."

Kevin said angrily:

"What a gift! This is a gunfight! People could die!"

Li Ang's expression remained calm:

"Kevin, you don't believe me?"

Kevin fell silent.

The clock on the wall ticked away.

The old white man's snoring in the corner rose and fell.

After a long while, Kevin finally released his grip on the package and let out a long breath.

"Fine, you've got guts."

He pushed the package towards Li Ang, but he was still worried:

"Let me check your equipment for you. Come with me."

With that, Kevin opened the sliding door of the bar counter, gesturing for Li Ang to follow.

The two entered the narrow storage room one after the other.

Kevin took the Glock out of his bag, skillfully ejected the magazine, and pulled the slide to check the chamber.

After confirming that the chamber is empty, check the condition of the firing pin and recoil spring, and then fill the magazine.

"Remember this: this is not a toy. Before you pull the trigger, your brain must precede your finger."

Li Ang nodded.

Kevin took out his holster from his bag and gestured for Li Ang to lift up the hem of his T-shirt.

Help Li Ang secure the holster to his waistband on the back side of his pants, in a very discreet position.

Li Ang tried pulling it out quickly a few times and adjusted the angle.

It is easy to use without any hindrance.

Kevin helped Leon fill two spare magazines with hollow-point bullets, patiently and earnestly instructing him:

"Remember, you can buy more bullets, but once you're dead, it's gone. When you meet them, don't be stingy with bullets, empty your magazines immediately!"

Li Ang was both amused and exasperated.

Kevin picked up the soft bulletproof vest again and shook it slightly.

"Try it on. With this big shirt over it, you shouldn't be able to tell."

Li Ang took off his plaid shirt and put on the vest.

Kevin came over and helped him adjust the shoulder straps and the Velcro on his waist.

"It's better if it's tight. If it's too loose, a bullet could still break your ribs. But it can't be too tight either, or it will restrict your movement."

After Kevin finished, he patted Li Ang's vest.

"How are you feeling? Is your breathing still easy?"

Li Ang stretched his shoulders and said happily:

"good."

Li Ang put his plaid shirt back on, the loose hem of which perfectly covered the bulge on his waist.

He tried to make a few slightly larger movements, and from the outside, nothing seemed amiss.

The two walked out of the storage room.

Li Ang waved goodbye:

"Let's go, Kevin."

Kevin nodded, his gaze complex and heavy as he said:

"Hey kid."

Li Ang turned around:

"Um?"

"Remember to come over next Wednesday to help me fill out the quarterly tax return for the bar."

Kevin pointed with his thumb to the calendar hanging on the wall behind him and shrugged.

"You know I can't fucking do addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division of numbers greater than two digits. Don't stand me up and get me locked up in a dark room by those bloodsuckers at the IRS. So..."

Years of tacit understanding made Li Ang understand what Kevin wanted to say but didn't finish saying:

So you fucking have to come back alive.

Li Ang turned around, a slight smile playing on his lips.

He raised his hand, turned his back to Kevin, and waved casually.

……

5 p.m., NYPD Bronx Precinct.

After finishing writing the morning's interrogation report, the beautiful policewoman Karen saved it and filed it, then rubbed her slightly sore neck.

The office was noisy. Several greasy middle-aged male police officers huddled together, smoking marijuana and chatting about lewd topics in front of Karen.

Karen felt somewhat suffocated and oppressed.

She crossed the street alone and went to the 24-hour convenience store on the other side.

Karen bought an iced Americano and unconsciously walked to the spot where she had sat while chatting with Li Ang in the early hours of the day before yesterday.

Looking out the window at the passing cars, she felt a strange, inexplicable sense of irritation.

Karen attributed this feeling to being too tired from work.

She was staring out the window, lost in thought, when her phone suddenly vibrated in her pocket.

Karen perked up and immediately pulled it out.

The screen lit up, but it displayed an unfamiliar local landline number.

Karen's unfounded expectation deflated rapidly, like a punctured balloon.

She sighed, immediately perked up, pressed the answer button, and said in a strong voice:

"Hello, I'm Karen Jackson. How can I help you?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then suddenly came the voice she had been waiting for:

"Good afternoon, Miss Karen. This is Li Ang. Are you busy?"

It's Li Ang.

Karen's heart inexplicably quickened, and a faint sense of surprise welled up inside her.

She was about to subconsciously say "I'm not busy," but she suddenly stopped herself from saying it.

Finally, Karen thought for a moment, cleared her throat, and calmly and steadily said:

"Hey, Ang Lee, I'm busy right now, what can I do for you? I suggest you keep it short, because according to the NYPD handbook, personal calls are discouraged during working hours. Also, if you need to contact me for official business, you should call the precinct's main switchboard, not my personal number."

As soon as she finished speaking, she immediately regretted it.

That was said too bluntly, as if the person reporting the crime was being reprimanded.

Li Ang on the other end of the phone, however, was not discouraged at all, and his tone remained very cheerful:

"Okay, Ms. Karen, I'll make this quick. I'd like to invite you to dinner as a token of my appreciation as a friend. Would you prefer Chinese food or American fast food?"

"Huh? You're treating me to dinner?"

Karen never expected that the call from Li Ang would be to invite her to dinner.

After thinking about it, I realized that I really do miss the taste of General Tso's Chicken and Yangzhou Fried Rice.

So he subconsciously said:

"Chinese food, please."

"Very good!"

Li Ang immediately exclaimed excitedly:

"Let's go to Panda Express in Chinatown!"

Karen then realized:

"Hey, wait a minute, Li Ang! I haven't accepted your dinner invitation yet!"

Upon hearing this, Li Ang immediately feigned grievance and said:

"But you just said you like Chinese food..."

"That's because you only gave me the options of Chinese food and fast food, you didn't give me a chance to say no!"

Karen sighed, feeling helpless, as if she were debating with a high school student with strange logic.

"Oh……"

Li Ang lowered his voice and cautiously pleaded:

"But Miss Karen, I really want to treat you to a meal. I... I just found a great part-time job and I'd like to celebrate with you."

Karen felt a slight tremor in her heart, and her fingers unconsciously fiddled with the sleeve of her coffee cup.

She remained silent for a while, seemingly lost in thought, but hardened her heart nonetheless:

"No, you can find another friend to go eat with you."

Li Ang said dejectedly:

"You're my only friend."

Karen was silenced again.

After a long while, she finally found a reason to shirk responsibility:

"And what about your sister Fiona?"

"I'll take her to the dialysis center this afternoon. After we have dinner, I'll pick her up around midnight and take her home to rest."

Karen fell silent again.

There was only a slight static sound coming from the phone.

Li Ang waited for a while but still didn't receive a reply from Karen, so he had no choice but to use the trump card suggested by the system:

"I'm sorry, Ms. Karen, perhaps I've been too dependent on you. If this is bothering you or causing you to break your work rules, then please let it go. I'm really sorry for taking up your time."