An American knife seller? No, please acknowledge me as your godfather.

When Will Cross led Mark and other core members to the bar's lobby, they arrived with menacing intent.

Before they could even walk out the door, everyone froze in place as if they had been frozen in place by a spell.

It's not that they suddenly changed their minds and didn't want to move.

But the sight before them made them dare not take another step forward!

Through the floor-to-ceiling glass door that wasn't completely cleaned, you could clearly see that the area outside the bar was already packed with homeless people!

Looking around, it's practically a population exhibition hall of the lower class.

People of all ages and skin colors thronged the area: white, black, Latino, Dominican, Puerto Rican...

Although these people came from different skin colors and ethnic groups, their movements were remarkably synchronized at that moment.

They were all standing on tiptoe, staring intently at the inside of the bar!

On those weathered faces, a deep longing was etched upon them!

"FUCK!"

Will Cross felt a chill run down his spine and forced out a low curse through clenched teeth.

The situation was a hundred times worse than he had imagined in his office.

Although the group of homeless people have not yet shown the same crazy, biological weapon-like behavior as last night, they are just quietly blocking the entrance to the bar like a zombie apocalypse.

But this eerie silence was even more unsettling and suffocating than last night!

He clearly saw a sense of greed in the green eyes of these homeless people.

If this group gets out of control, and even one person isn't handled properly...

Gudong~

Will Cross swallowed hard, his gaze involuntarily sweeping over the seemingly sturdy glass door frame of the bar.

In the magical land of America, even the thick riot-proof wooden boards of LV stores and Apple flagship stores could not withstand the impact of zero-dollar purchases.

He was far from naive enough to believe that his fragile glass door could withstand the onslaught of hundreds of homeless people.

At the same time.

Mark, Lenny, Silas, Vance, and the others also looked extremely grim.

Because of his experience of being surrounded in the homeless park, Mark even reflexively took a big step back.

"This is definitely fake news deliberately spread by someone!"

Silas was trembling with rage, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked, and he cursed through gritted teeth:

"That damn son of a bitch! If I find out who's behind this, I swear I'll crush his balls!"

"Boss, what are we waiting for here?"

Vance, the most hot-tempered of them all, suddenly stepped forward, reached for his pistol at his waist, and his face contorted with malice: "Let's take the brothers out right now and fire into the air, driving away all these beggar scum!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Vance was immediately met with looks of disbelief from everyone.

One-Eyed Dexter didn't hold back at all and launched into a tirade of insults:

"Are you fucking insane? Taking people out to drive others away at a time like this, are you trying to hasten our demise?"

"Open your dog eyes and look carefully! This isn't just a dozen or so homeless people! There are several times more people outside than last night!"

"One spit from each of us could drown you in a cesspool! If you're looking to die, don't drag us down with you!"

"So what should we do now? We can't fight them, and we can't chase them away!"

Vance shrugged in frustration and resigned himself to his fate: "I'm out of options, it's up to you guys!"

For a moment, everyone looked at each other in silence.

The atmosphere in the hall was so oppressive it felt like you could wring water out of it.

At this moment, Mark nervously pursed his chapped lips, his eyes darting around as he lowered his voice and tentatively asked, "Boss... how about... we call the police?"

Upon hearing this, the brows of the others immediately furrowed into a tight knot.

For these gangsters, dealing with the police is the last thing they want to do unless absolutely necessary.

The cops know everything about the Blood Wolf Gang. If they really call the police, the losses will be even greater than they are now!

"Or... should we just accept our fate and spend some money to give them pancakes and cash?"

Seeing the unfriendly expressions on everyone's faces, Mark added in a low voice, forcing himself to speak, "Once they get the money and food, they'll probably disperse..."

"No!"

Before he could finish speaking, Will Cross decisively refused.

Giving out pancakes and money? That's absolutely impossible!

Putting aside the fact that at this critical juncture, where are we going to get so many scallion pancakes for hundreds of people?

Just considering the condition of giving each person ten dollars in cash, multiplied by the sheer number of people in front of us, it is definitely not a small amount!

Of course, this amount of money is something the Blood Wolf Gang, who monopolizes business in several blocks, can afford if they grit their teeth.

But the most fatal thing is that if we actually bow down and compromise today and give money to these homeless people.

If these homeless people go back and spread this word, it will really get out of control!

As long as this precedent of paying money to avoid disaster is set today.

Tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and even the day after that, the number of homeless people outside the bar will surely increase exponentially.

How will we do business then?!

Furthermore, although the Blood Wolf Gang is not very large, it is still a legitimate gang!

Even gangsters have their pride and dignity.

If other gangs found out, they would know that they had been forced to pay money to keep their peace by a group of homeless beggars.

I'm afraid all my Seattle colleagues would laugh their heads off. How am I supposed to survive in the underworld after this?

Seeing his boss's firm stance, Mark shrank back and dared not bring it up again.

For a moment, the atmosphere in the lobby on the first floor became extremely strange.

Everyone is racking their brains to find a way out of this predicament.

"Go upstairs!"

In the end, Will Cross gritted his teeth and uttered three words.

Before the others could react, they turned around and quickly walked towards the stairs.

Mark and the others looked at each other, their faces full of confusion.

Clearly, no one understood why the boss was going upstairs at this time.

But the group didn't dare ask any more questions and could only hurry to catch up.

……

Five minutes later.

At the end of the second-floor corridor, by the window.

Mark and the others quickly understood their boss's intention.

Will Cross stood by the window, taking a deep breath to calm the raging anger churning in his chest.

Then he suddenly yanked open the glass window in front of him and leaned half his body out to look down.

The moment I saw the whole view below, the corner of my mouth twitched uncontrollably.

I couldn't see the whole picture clearly from the first floor because my view was obstructed by the glass.

Looking down from his vantage point, he saw that the number of people gathered on the street outside was a third more than he had imagined!

And from the surrounding alleys, groups of homeless people continued to arrive.

The sound of the window opening seemed quite abrupt at that moment, immediately attracting the attention of the homeless man directly below.

Swish swish!

Many eyes immediately focused on Will Cross at the second-floor window.

With so many eyes staring at him, Will Cross's eyelids twitched wildly a few times, and his expression became extremely unnatural.

But he forced himself to suppress the agitation in his heart, gripped the windowsill tightly with both hands, gritted his teeth, and shouted loudly down:

"I am Will Cross! The owner of this Rusty Anchor Bar! Everyone, please be quiet and listen to me!"

Accompanied by this powerful roar, more and more homeless people turned their heads like a tide.

For a moment, most of the homeless people's attention was focused on him.

Having achieved his goal, Will Cross cleared his throat, preparing to explain and clarify the outrageous rumors.

This is the only way he can think of to disperse the crowd.

"Everyone, this is all a misunderstanding, we..."

"Mr. Will! Thank you so much for your generosity! You're a true saint!"

Before Will Cross could finish explaining, an extremely rough voice suddenly rang out from the crowd below:

"I wonder when they'll start handing out those fragrant scallion pancakes and ten-dollar bills?"

"Our stomachs are growling with hunger, we can't wait any longer! Don't you all agree?"

Upon hearing this highly inflammatory statement, Will Cross's expression immediately changed.

Isn't this obviously putting him in a very difficult position?

His angry gaze quickly turned towards the direction of the sound, but he only caught a fleeting glimpse of a black man's head.

You can only vaguely make out that he is extremely tall and strong like an ox; you can't see his face at all.

Before he could continue his search, a tsunami of applause from below completely interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah, Mr. Will, when are we getting paid? I don't even have money left to buy cheap vodka!"

"Hurry up and send out the scallion pancakes! I found half a moldy hot dog in the trash last night, I'm starving!"

"Great boss Will, open the door! We want cookies!"

"..."

The big black man's words seemed to have flipped a switch.

In an instant, various urgent urging voices rang out in turn.

The scene gradually became uncontrollable and chaotic.

Seeing that the situation was about to get out of control, Will Cross's face immediately turned green.

Veins bulged on his forehead; he wanted nothing more than to pull out a machine gun and mow down these idiots right then and there.

But faced with hundreds of homeless people who could erupt at any moment, he could only force a smile that looked worse than a grimace.

"Everyone has misunderstood! It's a complete misunderstanding! We're just a legitimate bar, and we've never said anything about giving out scallion pancakes or cash!"

"I think... maybe everyone believed someone's prank and went to the wrong place?"

These words were like a boulder rolling into a calm lake.

The crowd below, which had been filled with anticipation, suddenly erupted in an uproar of disbelief!

"What the hell? What does that mean? No money and no bread?!"

"Fake news? I knew there was no way such a windfall could exist in this world!"

"Damn it! Which bastard spread this fake news?! Wasting my sleep time!"

If I find out who it is, I'll kick their ass raw with my lemon-chili shoes covered in dog poop!

Just as the crowd erupted in a cacophony of curses, that same gruff voice rang out again.

This time, the voice was filled with a furious, inflammatory tone:

"Bullshit! I think you, this vampire boss, are deliberately lying to us! You're just playing us like monkeys, aren't you? Die!"

With a loud roar, a beautiful parabola suddenly appeared in mid-air.

A worn-out sneaker, at least size 45, covered in unidentified black grime, flew high into the air.

It reeked of a nauseating stench and struck the second-floor window with perfect accuracy.

"Splat!"

The huge, smelly shoe slammed solidly into Will Cross's astonished face!

"Ouch! Fuck!"

Will Cross immediately let out a pig-like scream, feeling as if his nasal bone had been struck by a hammer and he lost his balance.

He staggered backward several steps until he was supported by Lennie and the others behind him and regained his balance.

Two tubes of warm, fresh blood flowed freely from his nostrils, dripping onto his expensive shirt.

His once fierce face now bore a clear, dark shoe print!

Seeing his boss suffer such a humiliating disgrace, Mark, who was already simmering with anger and on edge, instantly erupted in fury.

His reason crumbled at that moment, and he suddenly drew his Glock pistol from his waist and lunged towards the window.

The dark muzzle of the gun was aimed directly at the chaotic crowd below, and the voice was hysterical:

"Who was it? Which stupid bastard threw that shoe?! Step forward!!!"

Seeing the cold, metallic gleam of the pistol in the second-floor window, the previously agitated crowd below was clearly frightened.

A brief silence fell over the scene; everyone held their breath in terror.

But the silence lasted for less than two seconds.

Left Black Dragon Mike's highly inflammatory voice once again boomed from some hidden corner:

"Good, good, good! Everyone has seen the ugly face of capitalists! Not only did they trick us into coming here like monkeys, but now they're going to shoot us dead!"

"Where is American freedom? Where are human rights?! Brothers, we're all going to starve to death anyway, let's fight these suit-wearing thugs!"

The moment the roar subsided, Mike didn't hesitate to take off his other smelly shoe and throw it with all his might toward the second-floor window!

Mike's shout was like pulling the fuse of a powder keg, or like turning on some kind of violent switch.

Instantly, the homeless people below, who had been intimidated by the gun barrels, turned red with rage.

"Let's fight them!"

"Smash those sons of bitches to death!"

The next second, countless pieces of debris rained down on the second-floor window like a storm.

Triangular baskets, sharp pebbles, half a moldy hamburger, empty beer bottles...

There were even sanitary napkins and menstrual pads with a glaring red color!

"ah!!!"

Mark, who had raised his gun to aim, had no time to dodge and was hit hard in the left eye by a marble that flew from somewhere.

He immediately threw down the pistol in agony, covered his left eye, and retreated repeatedly, letting out a series of piercing screams.

However, before he could even get his footing...

"Snapped!"

A resounding slap landed directly on the back of his head, making him stagger.

Will Cross, his face covered in blood and shoe prints, glared at Mark and roared furiously:

"Who the hell gave you permission to point a gun at them? Is your brain filled with shit?! Now you're happy because you've stirred up public anger? Go apologize to them! Calm them down!"

"I...I apologize?"

Mark covered his swollen and bleeding left eye, completely stunned.

His face was full of disbelief.

"Go now!!!"

Will Cross grabbed Mark by the collar, his eyes filled with a terrifying look as if he wanted to kill him.

Seeing that his boss was on the verge of exploding, Mark could only swallow his grievances and anger.

Reluctantly, he moved back to the window, ready to peek out and give in.

Just then.

A deafening roar erupted from the crowd below:

"Down with the evil capitalists! They won't give us food, we'll go in and get it ourselves!! Charge!!!"

Followed by.

"Whoosh—Boom!!!"

A deafening sound of shattering glass suddenly rang out.

The sound seemed to be coming from the main entrance on the first floor directly below!

At that moment, Mark seemed to realize something, his pupils contracted sharply, and he quickly leaned halfway out to look down desperately.

When they saw the hundreds of homeless people who had been blocking the entrance now flooding into the bar like a burst dam.

Mark's legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground like a lump of mud.

Despair turned his head, his face ashen, and looked at Will Cross, his voice trembling uncontrollably:

"Boss...it's all over! It's all over! They...they broke in!!!"

"What?!"

Will Cross was struck dumb upon hearing this.

He suddenly stepped forward and leaned over the windowsill, staring intently down.

When he saw the scene of the zero-dollar shopping frenzy downstairs, which resembled a living hell, he finally couldn't hold back anymore and roared at the top of his lungs:

"Call the police! Call the police now!! Get the police here quickly! These damn thugs!!!"

……