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

Seattle City Morgue.

The cold white fluorescent lights emitted an annoying buzzing sound, and the temperature inside the morgue was bone-chillingly low.

"Mr. Marco, are you sure you want to see this? Due to being covered by heavy fire, the deceased's appearance... is not optimistic."

The forensic doctor, wearing a mask and holding a corner of a white cloth in his hand, hesitated as he looked at the man beside him.

The man known as Marco was burly, with a menacing blood wolf tattoo on his neck.

"lift!"

Mark clenched his teeth, his voice hoarse as if he were rubbing sandpaper.

The veins on my forehead throbbed and twitched like earthworms.

The forensic doctor stopped talking and flicked his wrist.

Swish!

The white cloth was immediately half lifted.

When Marco saw the corpse on the metal bed, he couldn't help but gasp.

That's horrible!

The corpse's face was completely unrecognizable; its head looked like a watermelon smashed by a heavy hammer!

His forehead, cheeks, and chin were all covered in deep, bloody holes, with pale flesh rolled outwards.

Creak~

Marco clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles cracked.

Trembling, she reached out to touch her younger brother's face, but her hand froze in mid-air, unable to do anything.

"Victor... I'm sorry, I promised Mom I'd take good care of you, but I didn't..."

Marco lowered his head, his eyes red-rimmed, and slammed his fist hard on the cold metal edge of the bed.

Yes, he admits that he slept with his brother's wife, but can he be entirely blamed for that?

Who told that woman to dress so provocatively and flaunt herself in front of me all the time!

And in order to avoid causing any deaths, he always wore a T-shirt properly.

To be fair, he absolutely poured his heart and soul into his younger brother Victor.

You should know that studying medicine in America is a game for the rich!

Over the years, he had spent almost all the money he earned by working on the streets to collect protection money on Viktor's tuition.

Even after his younger brother failed to understand the professor's teachings and was unable to get into a major hospital, he still funded the takeover of KK Clinic.

Furthermore, he abused his power to forcibly designate KK Clinic as the treatment center for his gang members.

Looking across the entire United States, it would be hard to find another brother like him who is so generous with both money and effort!

But now, seeing that her younger brother's illegal medical business is about to get on track, she can also recoup some of her costs.

Unexpectedly, the younger brother was riddled with bullets first!

call--

Taking a deep breath, Marco suddenly ripped the white cloth off completely!

No matter what, he wanted to see his brother's final appearance.

However, when Marco saw the body under the white cloth, his eyes immediately twitched violently.

Victor's body was riddled with bullet holes, and his chest was riddled with holes like a broken sieve, with hardly a patch of undamaged flesh to be found.

"Damn Seattle cops!" Marco cursed through gritted teeth.

As a high-ranking member of the gang, he was all too familiar with this method of dying by finding shrapnel in minced meat.

The thought of his brother's despair as he faced police gunfire in the clinic sent shivers down his spine.

Just then, his gaze suddenly sharpened and he stared intently at Victor's hands.

The bones in both wrists were twisted and broken in a bizarre way, and all ten fingers were shattered and limply hanging over the edge of the bed.

Upon seeing this, Marco's head exploded with a "buzz"!

Those wounds were definitely caused by being crushed by a heavy object; they weren't gunshot wounds at all!

With his hands so useless that he can barely hold a noodle, how could he possibly be armed and violently resist arrest as described in the police report?

His years of gang experience immediately told him that something was definitely fishy!

Thinking of this, Marco's eyes sharpened.

He immediately chased away the forensic doctor, took out his phone, and dialed a hidden number.

The phone rang for a long time without being answered, but Marco stubbornly kept redialing.

Finally, the call went through on the third attempt.

"Fuck! Marco, are you looking for death? How dare you call me? If someone finds out, I'm finished!" A deliberately lowered, angry male voice came from the other end of the phone.

Marco's voice was icy: "I want to know who led the team to the KK clinic last night!"

The person on the other end of the phone paused for a moment, then asked, "Why are you asking about this?"

"That quack doctor who died was my own brother!" Marco roared.

There was a deathly silence on the other end of the phone.

Then his voice softened slightly: "What do you want to do?"

"There's definitely something fishy about my brother's death! His hand was broken long ago, he couldn't have fired a gun at all! I'm going to sue all the police officers involved in last night's operation, especially the captain who led the team!" Marco's eyes were bloodshot.

Upon hearing this, there was another long silence on the phone, followed by a sigh:

"Marco, I can't tell you who she is. Besides, as an old acquaintance, I sincerely advise you to give up this suicidal idea."

"Why!" Marco gritted his teeth and let out a cold laugh:

"Got a powerful background, huh? Tell me exactly what it is! Is she a sugar daddy of a branch bureau chief? Or the mistress of a high-ranking official at headquarters? I've been in the Blood Wolf Gang for so many years, I'm not afraid of these shady gigolos!"

"This isn't a question of whether you're afraid or not..."

There was a moment's hesitation on the other end of the phone, then the tone became extremely serious:

"Considering our years of cooperation, I'll give you one last piece of advice: stop asking around. Also, I'll give you four letters... S, W, A, T."

beep-

Before Marco could react, the call was ruthlessly disconnected.

Hearing the busy tone on his phone, Marco froze on the spot.

I felt a chill run down my spine and straight to the back of my head, and my shirt was instantly soaked with cold sweat!

SWAT!

These four letters swirled in his mind like a heavy hammer.

If you were to ask what these tax-paying gangsters fear most, it would definitely not be ordinary police officers or the narcotics bureau.

Instead, they are fully armed SWAT (Special Weapons and Tactics Force)!

Let alone the Blood Wolves, even the biggest Blood gang in Seattle would never dare to mess with the SWAT!

Those guys won't talk to you about laws or rules.

If you anger them, they will retaliate with heavy firepower!

After his expression shifted between light and dark for a long while, Marco silently put away his phone and turned to leave.

He loved his younger brother very much, but he didn't want to drag the entire gang down with him.

"Big brother!"

As soon as I stepped out of the cold, dark door of the morgue, the tall, dreadlocked man immediately bowed and scraped as he greeted me.

This person happened to witness Victor being carried into the ambulance by his underlings.

Marco stopped, his eyes darkening. "Has anyone made an enemy of Victor recently? Tell me, and don't let a single one get away with it!"

Just because they don't dare to retaliate against the police doesn't mean they'll just swallow their anger.

There's definitely something wrong with my brother's hands; there must be someone else involved behind this!

"No way, boss! In this neighborhood, who dares to mess with Dr. Victor!"

The tall man with the dreadlocks denied it without even thinking.

At the same time, he secretly thought to himself that Victor probably hated the boss who stole his wife the most...

"Think about it carefully again! Or maybe he's offended someone recently!" Marco's face hardened and he grabbed the other man's collar.

Sensing the murderous aura emanating from Mark, the tall, dreadlocked man trembled.

His mind raced, and then his eyes lit up: "I've got it! A couple of days ago, Dr. Victor asked us to anonymously report a shady clinic that was stealing our business to the police station. I wonder if that counts?"

Marco frowned: "Continue."

The man with the dreadlocks didn't dare to hide anything and recounted the process of how he set up the medical tent in the homeless park, spilling out his beans.

After hearing this, Marco slapped the man with the dreadlocks on the head: "Fuck! Why didn't you tell me this sooner?!"

The man with the dreadlocks covered his head and stammered, "Boss, this is just a homeless quack doctor trying to steal your business. We thought it was too small to bother you..."

"Hmph!" Marco snorted coldly, his eyes gleaming with a chilling light.

"Take some men and check immediately if that shady clinic called Lynn's is still operating!"

The man with the dreadlocks rubbed his head, somewhat dismissively: "Boss, it's just a gathering place for homeless people. Dr. Victor reported it; the police must have already shut it down..."

Before he could finish speaking, the dreadlocked man swallowed the rest of his words when he saw Marco's icy, almost murderous gaze.

He quickly agreed, saying, "I'll go right away! I'll go right away!"

Watching the filthy-braided man scramble away, Marco turned back and took one last, deep look at the morgue door, his voice low and sorrowful:

"Brother, rest in peace. I will make sure you don't die in vain!"

He paused, took a deep breath, and added very naturally:

"As for your wife... I'll continue to take care of her."

……