Tehran Grocery Store: My Intelligence is Priced Clearly

Farhad gasped.

"Boss, this..."

Zhang Jian raised his hand, interrupting Fahad.

The little girl looked at Zhang Jian, her dirty little face full of seriousness, and spoke in a voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz.

"Dad said, if he doesn't come back..."

"Let me take this with me. If someone is willing to take me in, give this to them."

Zhang Jian was stunned.

"Boss."

Farhad swallowed hard, his voice barely audible.

"This is probably the key to unlocking that secret treasure."

"There are at least several hundred people outside looking for this thing right now."

"I know."

"Then we..."

Farhad asked tentatively.

The boss knows best.

He's just a money-grubbing intelligence broker.

Should we hand over the child along with the keys?

This is clearly not in line with the boss's personality.

Stay?

That would mean going against the entire black market of Tehran, and even against the Taresh family.

Given the size of the business, it's currently impossible for the boss to confront these forces.

He couldn't help but feel a little worried.

Zhang Jian didn't say anything, but simply reached out and took the brass key from the little girl's hand.

The key felt heavy and was slightly warm.

He turned his head and looked at Bakhtiar, who was standing to the side.

"Big guy, go to the backyard and boil some water."

Bakhtiar was taken aback.

"what?"

"Boss, why are you boiling water?"

"Give her a bath."

Zhang Jian pointed to the little girl in front of him.

Farhad frowned, and his lips trembled.

I wanted to say something, but in the end, I didn't say it.

Shahra's face, which had remained unchanged for millennia, softened slightly, almost imperceptibly.

"Farhad".

Zhang Jian put the keys in his pocket, his tone returning to its usual calm.

"Boss."

"Get the guys out of their bags and get ready, just in case."

Zhang Jian walked behind the counter and opened the drawer.

He took out his Glock 17 and casually tucked it into his waistband.

"Since we've brought them all back, let's keep them for now."

"The 'Viper Gang' might not have recognized this little girl."

Even if they recognize someone, they might not immediately spread the news.

"As long as the news doesn't spread, we still have a chance."

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from the second-floor stairwell.

Amir, with his messy hair, leaned half his body out over the stair railing.

He was holding a tablet computer in his hand, and his face was slightly pale.

"Boss, something's happened!"

Zhang Jian suddenly looked up.

Amir swallowed hard and pointed at the screen in his hand.

"Several cars suddenly appeared on the surveillance footage, rushing towards us!"

Zhang Jian immediately turned around.

He climbed the stairs and approached Amir's screen.

The tablet's screen was divided into four grids, all showing the surveillance camera view of the street corner outside the grocery store.

Five dilapidated pickup trucks were speeding down the street, their cargo beds crammed with people.

They were all carrying various machetes, steel pipes, and baseball bats.

They headed straight for the grocery store with aggressive momentum.

"Approximately how many people?"

Zhang Jian stared at the screen.

Thirty-five.

Amir tapped rapidly on the tablet with both hands, zooming in on one of the images.

"Judging from their clothes, they all look like members of the South District Viper Gang. The leader is bald and has a scar on his face."

"Through system comparison, this guy is the vice leader of the Viper Gang."

"Shahera".

Zhang Jian straightened up and turned his head.

He pointed to the door leading to the backyard.

"Take the child to the backyard and don't let her make a sound."

Shahra nodded and, without saying a word, led the little girl to the back.

The little girl glanced back at Zhang Jian before following Shahra and disappearing around the corner.

Zhang Jian went down the stairs again.

In the lobby on the first floor, Fahad and Bakhtiar and several others had already entered a state of combat readiness.

Bakhtiar pulled a black tactical bag from under the counter.

Unzip it, and inside are the automatic rifles and fully loaded magazines that we brought back last time.

He grabbed an AK-103, skillfully chambered a round, and casually tossed one to Farhad.

"Boss, how do I do it?"

Bakhtiar held the gun in his hand, stretched his thick neck, and his knuckles cracked.

"Don't rush to fire."

Zhang Jian walked to the door and looked outside through the glass window.

"This is an affluent area after all. It would be difficult to explain if we just went and shot someone in broad daylight."

He looked up and shouted towards the second floor.

"Ali!"

A very light footstep came from the shadows on the second floor.

Immediately afterwards, Ali's deep voice came from upstairs.

"Boss."

"Go keep an eye on things from the roof."

"No killings are permitted without my order."

"clear."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a screeching sound of brakes came from outside the door.

Five pickup trucks were parked haphazardly on the street in front of the grocery store, completely blocking the road.

The car doors banged loudly.

More than thirty members of the Viper Gang jumped off the pickup truck.

They brandished various kinds of cold weapons and surrounded them, cursing and swearing.

The bald man leading the group stretched his limbs, holding a half-meter-long machete in his hand.

Then he swayed and walked to the steps on the first floor.

He raised his foot and slammed it hard against the door.

"Clang!"

The door on the first floor was kicked open suddenly.

He took a few steps forward.

He stood one step inside the door and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Everyone inside, get out here!"

Zhang Jian turned to look at him.

Fahad and Bakhtiar stood on either side of Zhang Jian, their hands holding guns hidden behind their backs.

The bald man looked at Zhang Jian's position, sized him up, and then slung the machete over his shoulder.

"Are you the owner of this run-down shop?"

"it's me."

Zhang Jian stood in front of the counter, looking at him indifferently.

"A Chinese person?"

The bald man was stunned for a moment, then revealed a sneer.

"That makes things easier. My name is Hassan!"

The bald man stopped laughing and pointed the tip of his knife at Zhang Jian.

"From the South District Viper Gang!"

"Half an hour ago, three of my brothers had their legs broken on this street. Was it your men who did it?"

Hassan took a step forward, the tip of his knife almost piercing Zhang Jian's nose.

"There's no need to deny it."

"Someone saw that the woman who hit someone came into your shop."

Hassan spat, his attitude extremely arrogant.

"Now, hand over that woman and that little beggar."

"I need another $20,000 for medical expenses."

"Otherwise, don't blame me for being impolite to you today!"

Zhang Jian glanced at the knife tip pointing in front of him, then at Hassan, his expression calm.

"Take this thing back first."

"What? You still want to resist?"

Hassan's face was contorted with grotesque features as he pressed forward menacingly.

"Chinese people, don't refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit."

"This is Tehran. Who do you think you are?"