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

Red Hook Street Center

Haidilao private room.

Lynn's voice wasn't loud; it even had a slightly lazy, hoarse quality.

But to Annie's ears, it sounded like a devil's whisper piercing her eardrums.

This was in conjunction with the subtle yet highly aggressive aura emanating from Lynn at that moment.

Annie's body immediately froze in her seat as if she had been subjected to some ancient freezing spell.

My head vibrated with a "buzz," as if I had been hit hard with a big stick, and my vision became somewhat blurry.

For some reason, she felt a strange sense of familiarity with that sentence.

In a daze, she remembered.

Lynn seemed to have said something similar back then, inside that luxurious medical tent in the homeless park.

Noticing Annie's rapid breathing and subtle changes in her body, Lynn's lips curled into a smile that revealed his complete control.

His body leaned forward again, creating an extremely oppressive feeling.

The distance between the two instantly shrank to the extreme, their noses almost touching.

In an instant, the warm breath, mixed with a faint smell of tobacco, was exhaled onto Annie's fair face.

Along with it comes an even stronger natural body fragrance.

Instantly, goosebumps crawled all over Annie's exposed neck, spreading inch by inch from her neck to her arms!

The brain completely shut down instantly.

What anti-gang campaign, what three-day deadline, what oppression from the father's authority...

All sorts of random thoughts were thrown to the back of their minds.

My mind is uncontrollably filled with the breathtaking, even lingering, tongue kiss I had with my lips and teeth separated last night outside the restaurant.

Thinking of this, her beautiful legs, as smooth as the finest ivory, immediately curled up and crossed tightly.

An indescribable, strange warmth surged uncontrollably from deep within my lower abdomen, rushing downwards.

This caused the sphincter muscles to tighten instinctively, and a hazy, watery look immediately appeared under the eyes.

"Knock knock knock—"

Just as this suffocating ambiguity reached its peak, there was a gentle knock on the door of the private room.

A polite voice came from outside the door:

"Sir, your hot pot base and ingredients are ready. May I serve you now?"

Upon hearing this, a hint of lingering satisfaction flashed in Lynn's eyes.

Only then did they take pity on her and distance themselves, temporarily letting Annie, who was on the verge of collapse, go.

However, he still murmured in a very magnetic voice, "If the officer doesn't answer... then I'll take that as a tacit agreement."

After saying that, he straightened up and slowly sat back down in his seat, then called out to the door, "Come in."

Annie bit her red lips tightly the whole time and didn't say a word, only lowering her head so low it was almost bleeding.

He pressed his hands tightly against his lower abdomen, his breathing erratic, showing extreme anxiety.

She only stood up abruptly, as if granted a pardon, when the waiter pushed a cart full of fresh hot pot ingredients into the private room.

Her voice trembled slightly, almost imperceptibly: "I...I need to go to the restroom!"

Having said that, he quickly fled the private room without waiting for Lynn's response.

Watching Annie's slightly flustered departure, Lynn leaned back in his chair and smiled without saying a word.

Then, he suddenly noticed something.

This usually decisive and efficient policewoman was walking in a strange way at this moment.

His legs were pressed tightly together, exuding an indescribable awkwardness.

But he didn't pay much attention to it at the moment. Instead, he slowly got up and walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window.

He lowered his gaze slightly, looking down at the Rusty Anchor Bar, which was flashing dazzling neon lights, on the opposite street corner.

Actually, inviting Annie to dinner tonight and jokingly asking her to agree to a condition was just a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Even if Annie wasn't sitting here tonight, he would definitely have come to this private room with the best view.

The reason is simple: he wanted to see a good show with his own eyes.

The main character in this drama is the Rusty Anchor Bar right here.

To be precise, it's the Blood Wolf Gang's headquarters!

Since reporting Jack Ma and thoughtfully calling an ambulance for him, Lynn's mindset has undergone a transformation.

They are no longer the kind-hearted men and women who practice medicine and save lives.

Today, Mark led his men, armed with guns, to openly block the tent, although in the end their side won a great victory.

Not only did they extract a significant amount of emotional value to upgrade their survival skills, but they also unexpectedly obtained a substantial amount of loot far exceeding ten thousand US dollars.

But he would never allow this to happen a second time!

This time Mark only brought five or six people, but what about next time?

What if you bring twenty, thirty, or forty people?

Or perhaps he'll bring the entire Blood Wolf Gang with him?

This time, he was able to use the intimidating power of the homeless man to force the other party to retreat without bloodshed.

What if next time, the other party shoots a sneak attack from the shadows?

As the saying goes, "If you don't cut the weeds at the root, they will grow back in the spring breeze."

Today's Mark incident made him acutely aware of his shortcomings and his soft-heartedness.

I should have struck first as soon as I heard that Victor had a brother in the mafia!

If we had taken out Mike as well, we definitely wouldn't be in this predicament today.

Fortunately, there is still a chance to salvage the situation.

Click!

A faint blue flame shot out from the Zippo cigarette, and Lynn slowly lit it and took a deep drag.

He glanced at the time through the swirling smoke, a chilling glint flashing in his deep eyes:

"It'll be soon...it'll be soon."

……

Red Hook Street.

Inside the Rusty Anchor Bar.

Pushing open the bar's heavy, soundproof door, a strong smell of alcohol mixed with cheap perfume hits you.

This is just the top note; after the alcohol and perfume scent, there's the smell of sweat and the pungent odor of burning leaves.

Under the dim, flickering red and blue strobe lights, the deafening heavy metal dance music almost shook one's heart out of their chest.

Inside the booth, a group of men and women with cheap tattoos were frantically shaking dice while spewing vulgarities.

In a dark corner, several couples whose faces were indistinguishable were intertwined like conjoined twins, biting and entwining each other, their hands roaming freely over each other's bodies.

At the edge of the dance floor, several emaciated drug addicts were inhaling some kind of powder, then shaking their heads and swaying wildly like zombies.

You can even see two provocatively dressed streetwalkers with their arms around the shoulders of a pot-bellied drunkard, the three of them laughing and cursing as they squeeze into a men's restroom stall.

Looking around, this place is simply a gathering place for demons and monsters running rampant.

It perfectly embodies the American motto of "entertainment to the death."

at the same time.

Inside the general manager's office on the second floor of the bar.

The atmosphere, however, was the complete opposite of the noise downstairs; it was so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.

The huge office was filled with smoke.

Will Cross, the current leader of the Blood Wolf Gang, sat upright in a large, genuine leather boss's chair.

He was dressed in a sophisticated black striped suit, just like the one in the movie "The Godfather," with his hair neatly combed and a large Cuban Cohiba cigar dangling from his mouth.

call!

Will Cross slowly exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, his imposing gaze sweeping over Mark below, whose face was ashen and who appeared extremely agitated.

"Mark, I heard... you took a few skilled men out this afternoon to inspect a run-down clinic, but you were chased out like stray dogs before you even dared to fire a shot?"

Upon hearing this, Mark's already ashen face instantly turned even uglier.

The veins on his forehead bulged and throbbed like earthworms.

Before Mark could even open his mouth to defend himself, Dexter, a one-eyed man with jet-black skin sitting on the opposite sofa, sneered without any mercy:

"Boss, you're behind the times. I heard that our mighty Boss Mark was not only kicked out, but..."

"And even the golden revolver you personally bestowed upon him back then was confiscated as a trophy! Tsk tsk tsk, what a source of pride!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the room erupted in laughter.

The mockery and ridicule in the eyes of several core members, including Lenny, Silas, and Vance, were completely undisguised.

Mark has always held a subtly superior position in the gang, relying on his daring and aggressive nature, and has the air of being the second-in-command.

They had naturally been dissatisfied for a long time.

Now that they've seized this perfect opportunity to kick someone when they're down, how could they possibly let it slip by?

After a sneer, Lennie, with his arrogant blond hair and a shrimp tattoo on his neck, jumped in to mock him:

"Hey Mark, have you been playing around with too many women lately? You're getting too weak, aren't you? If you were, you should have told me sooner, and I could have brought some men to stand up for you!"

"You, made into this mess by a quack doctor, aren't you making a complete fool of the Blood Wolf Gang?"

"that is!"

With a distinctive mustache and a sinister look in his eyes, Silas quickly followed up, his tone sarcastic:

"If we can't even handle a quack doctor living in a slum tent, what will the other gangs in the neighborhood think when they find out? They'll laugh their heads off! How will we brothers collect protection money after that?"

"Shut up, all of you!"

Enraged by the rebuke, Mark abruptly stood up, his eyes red, and roared fiercely:

"I was just careless! Who the hell could have imagined that bastard was a lunatic who incited a bunch of homeless people who were willing to risk their lives for money to surround us! I was afraid that starting a shootout there would attract the police's attention, so I made a strategic retreat!"

Upon hearing Mark's weak and feeble attempt to save face, everyone scoffed and laughed in disdain.

This kind of nonsense might fool low-level thugs, but who among you isn't a ruthless character with lives on your hands? Who would believe this kind of talk?

"Alright." Will Cross raised his hand and pressed down, his deep voice instantly silencing all the noise.

"I don't care what exactly happened back then, and I don't care what ridiculous reasons you have. In short, today the Blood Wolf Gang's reputation was ruined by that shady doctor!"

"Mark, I don't care what methods you use, you have to get this back for me!"

Mark gritted his teeth, a savage killing intent flashing in his eyes, and nodded emphatically:

"Understood, boss! I've already contacted the guys down there. Tonight I'll lead a group to raze that park to the ground and twist that quack doctor's head off to use as a football!"

"Okay, go ahead and do it. Just make sure there are no more accidents this time."

Will Cross waved casually and picked up his cigar again.

In his mind, killing a quack doctor in the slums was not a big deal worth worrying about.

"Alright, enough with the nonsense."

Will Cross flicked his ash into the crystal ashtray and leaned forward: "Now, let's get down to business, about the red-light district next month..."

"Bang!"

Just then, the office door was suddenly kicked open with great force.

A henchman, drenched in sweat, stumbled in, his face contorted with terror and his voice trembling: "Boss, something terrible has happened! Something...something awful has occurred!"

Upon being interrupted, Will Cross's face instantly turned ashen.

Mark, already seething with anger, strode forward and kicked the henchman to the ground, cursing angrily:

"Are you blind?! Can't you see the boss is in a meeting?! What are you doing, rushing around like your father just died?!"

Ignoring the excruciating pain in his stomach, the younger brother scrambled to his feet and stammered, pointing towards the door:

"Outside...outside! A bunch of homeless people have suddenly gathered outside! They're like madmen, completely blocking the entrance to our bar!"

"Some were vomiting violently at the entrance, some were taking off their pants and urinating and defecating on the ground, and a large group of people even spread out tattered newspapers and slept directly on the driveway that guests had to pass through!"

"The entrance now reeks so badly that no new customers dare to come in. Even... many of the bar's existing customers, disgusted by the smell, have started paying their bills and leaving!"

"What?!"

After hearing his subordinate's report, the entire office fell silent for a second.

Will Cross, as the boss, maintained his authority as a mob godfather, remaining silent with a gloomy face.

But the fingers holding the cigar trembled slightly, and anger surged undisguisedly in his eyes.

He didn't speak, but his expression said it all.

Mark understood immediately, grabbed his underling by the collar, and started spitting on him:

"What the hell is going on?! Are all the guys guarding the place down there useless?! They're letting a bunch of homeless beggars run rampant in front of our Blood Wolf Gang's gates!"

"Do you think a few malnourished homeless people can scare you bunch of gun-wielding trash? Get some sticks and go out there and break their legs!"

Faced with Mark's roar, the henchman almost burst into tears, his voice trembling violently:

"Boss Mark...it's not just a few...it's dozens! There are people everywhere!"

"And...and I see the number of people at those street corners on the outskirts is increasing rapidly! We simply can't fight them off!"

"What? Dozens? And they're still increasing?"

Mark could no longer hold back, and his eyes gradually revealed an undisguised shock.

Hearing this,

One-Eyed Dexter and Lennie, along with the others, suddenly sprang up from the sofa, their expressions changing instantly.

"Where did all these homeless people come from in Hong Gou neighborhood? Something's not right!"

"Nonsense! Something's definitely wrong! These beggars barely have enough to eat, they could never be this organized!"

"Damn it, something's definitely up! Could it be... could it be some blind gang from the neighborhood deliberately hiring people to target our Blood Wolf Gang's territory?"

"..."

Amidst the noise and frantic speculation, Will Cross finally couldn't sit still any longer.

"Shut up, all of you!"

He stubbed out his expensive cigar on the table, his tall, imposing figure abruptly standing up, his eyes flashing with icy killing intent.

"Stop talking nonsense! Grab your weapons and come with me! I want to see who dares to mess with the Blood Wolf Gang!"