I'm building Gundams in America

Chapter 118 Isabella Greets You (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

José Contreras, from the two-headed ogre MS-13 tribe, formed his own tribal branch, the José Gang. He engages in the trade of enhancement drugs and human trafficking by bribing the Dark Court's law enforcement. He is deeply allied with George Gibbon, the Dark Court's Washington State Senator, and collaborates with the CIA in El Salvador and Honduras. His mother was a Honduran prostitute, and his father was a soldier in the Dark Court's colonial legion. He identifies himself as a descendant of the Demon Realm dungeons.

A series of information poured down on the panel in front of Wayne.

Clearly, the dungeon system is also somewhat interested in José Contreras's complicated history.

At least the other party has been promoted to the level of an elite junior leader.

Got you.

Wayne reached out and pulled back the curtain, revealing a medical bed and two figures on it.

A young white woman with a somewhat blank expression, clearly suffering from depression, was lying on the bed, her hands gripping her collar tightly.

A handsome man in his thirties with brown hair was straddling the woman, forcefully tearing at her collar.

The man's appearance was distinctly mixed-race, with the pale skin of an American white corpse and the sculpted features of a Latino.

Faced with the female prisoner's obstruction, his face showed no anger, but rather excitement.

Clearly, what attracted him more to this plain-looking female prisoner was her subconscious resistance.

He liked this kind of rebellion.

Of course, the other party's status as a U.S. citizen and the prison environment are also plus factors.

This made him even more excited, giving him a sense of control over everything.

Hearing the curtain being torn open, José didn't even lift his head, still tearing at the female prisoner's clothes, and said in a commanding tone, "Pull the curtain back up, and then get out."

He doesn't like to be disturbed when he's enjoying himself.

The last idiot to bother him was a prison guard from the ward, who has since been transferred to the King County serious crime prison.

As for the other prison guards in this ward, they were either bribed by him and worked in concert with him, or they were intimidated by his background and dared not speak out.

After all, these prison guards all live in Seattle and have families.

As for the female prisoner who was assaulted, she was just a mentally ill person with depression and self-harm tendencies who was imprisoned for failing to pay her treatment fees at a mental health clinic.

It wouldn't be surprising if someone like that committed suicide tomorrow.

Nobody cares about a heretic who likes to commit suicide and go to hell.

After all, prison guards already have a tough enough life on their own.

Moreover, the entire Seattle area, including Washington state, is a Blue Party stronghold, and their specialty is being targeted for suicide.

If you meddle too much, you might be the next one to commit suicide.

Tears streamed down the female prisoner's face, but because of her inner turmoil, she couldn't even utter a sound.

But she knew in her heart that no one would dare to save her.

After the curses, the curtain was still not drawn. Jose's excited expression instantly turned sinister. He frowned and turned to look at Wayne.

Upon recognizing the newcomer, he narrowed his eyes and sneered, "A newcomer?"

There weren't many prisoners in the psychological counseling ward, and this black-haired, black-eyed guy was a new face.

Realizing the other person might be a newcomer who didn't know the rules, he dismounted from the severely depressed female prisoner as if dismounting, slowly straightened his collar and sleeves, and looked at Wayne, saying, "New friend, perhaps you don't yet understand who I am, or who's in charge here—but I think after this lesson, you'll know how to survive here."

Some of the prisoners in this prison area had been meddlesome, but after being educated by José, they all understood what they should do after losing teeth or breaking bones.

As José spoke, he rolled up his sleeves: "You know, there are many kinds of psychotherapy. They hired me to give this poor girl some stimulation therapy, and your arrival has interrupted my treatment, which will have very bad consequences—"

"This room is my private treatment room. No one dares to disturb me. You'll soon understand what price you'll pay—"

As he spoke, he prepared to give the kid in front of him a good beating. He looked up at Wayne and said, "So, what exactly do you want?"

Wayne remained calm, stood up, looked at the other man, and said slowly, "Jose, my friend, all I want is your respect."

When he heard Wayne call him by his name, Jose was taken aback. His eyes narrowed, and his entire demeanor changed instantly, as if he were a beast that had instantly entered hunting mode.

He abandoned his previous dismissive and relaxed demeanor, staring intently into Wayne's eyes and asking, "Who sent you? Deputy Warden Cent? Mr. George? Or did Noon betray me and try to swallow up the Jose gang?"

These past few days, he has been unable to get through to Noon by phone from prison; Noon and his men seem to have vanished into thin air.

He had to activate another line of the Jose gang, those Jose gang members who were in charge of the ships and warehouses.

Noon's disappearance has always been a source of worry for him.

He didn't think anything would happen to them, after all, these were dozens of gang members, and even if something did happen, it was impossible for them to disappear at the same time.

Even Steve can't be contacted.

It now looks more like a power grab, with Noon, that son of a bitch, trying to take over the entire José gang while he's still in prison.

Jose noticed that when he mentioned Noon, the man's eyes visibly trembled.

It was indeed related to Noon.

He cracked his knuckles, twisted his neck, grinned menacingly, and said, "So it really is Noon? And that son of a bitch Steve—if they do this, they're sorely mistaken—the Jose Gang's prosperity and power have never been because of these bastards, but because of me, because of the channels I built!"

"From Washington state legislators to fucking US military bases in Honduras, from El Salvador’s human markets to fucking American human mines, these are the channels that make up everything for Jose’s gang."

“And I,” José pointed to his head, “my brain and my face are the central hub of these channels.”

"Now, I'm going to break every bone in your body, and then send you back to tell Noon a message—"

As he spoke, Jose suddenly pulled a sharp dagger from his pocket and stabbed Wayne in the throat with lightning speed!

From the very beginning, everything he said was meant to lull Wayne into a false sense of security, even his statement about crippling the other man.

As the leader of a ruthless Latin American gang, his goal from the beginning was to kill Wayne!

Jose appeared unusually calm at this moment; his earlier madness and excitement were merely a pretense before his hunt.

But in the next instant, a look of astonishment suddenly appeared on his face.

The dagger, which was originally aimed at the other man's throat, was now firmly held between the black-haired, black-eyed man's palms. Then, a great force came from the dagger, and his hands could not withstand the force. The dagger was pulled out and thrown onto the physiotherapy chair next to him.

Without any hesitation, Jose immediately lunged at Wayne, ready to engage in a fierce fight.

It can be said that his series of combat experiences are like those of a cunning beast. From the initial words that made his opponent lower his guard, to the subsequent dagger kill, and then to the relentless entanglement after the dagger was out of his hand, all of these combat experiences were gained from life-and-death battles.

Suddenly, José had grabbed the other man's hands.

Got it!

He couldn't help but show a look of joy, and was about to demonstrate his expertise in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.

But in the next instant, an unprecedented sense of powerlessness suddenly surged from his body, as if countless leeches were crawling out of his bone marrow and gnawing at his flesh.

Jose couldn't even stand up straight and suddenly knelt down in front of Wayne, his limbs beginning to twitch erratically.

As a drug lord and a heavy addict, he immediately understood what had happened.

This was an unprecedented withdrawal reaction, to the point that he wanted to devour his own flesh to find temporary relief from the pain.

He couldn't even raise his hand; he could only open his mouth wide, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth, making a "ho" sound in his throat.

Like those whose bones he broke.

"What happened to me? Give me the medicine! Give it to me now!"

The feeling of being devoured by countless insects drove him almost insane; he just wanted to dig out all his blood vessels and bones to relieve the pain.

"Prison guards—prison guards! Someone—someone give me my medicine—please—please—"

José tried desperately to shout, but even his loudest shouts were barely more than whispers.

Moreover, he himself was well aware that the soundproofing of this treatment room was excellent, not to mention that it had basically become his private room. Since the last prison guard was transferred, no prison guard would enter here at will.

"Please—give it to me—please—"

At this moment, the terrifying withdrawal symptoms grew stronger and stronger. José's limbs twisted at unnatural angles, like a human starfish convulsing on the ground. His sanity had completely collapsed.

No matter how strong his will was when he was sober, he could not resist the withdrawal symptoms.

That's what makes drugs so terrible.

It turns people into ghosts, and ghosts into demons.

Looking at Jose, who was struggling in pain on the ground, Wayne sighed and said, "Jose, Jose, all I wanted was your respect, but you've disappointed me."

These words, when they reached Jose's ears, instantly filled him with both pain and dread.

He had only heard this tone from two people: one was a super drug lord who controlled several states in Mexico, and the other was a warlord from a small South American country who had killed countless people.

Who exactly is this black-haired, black-eyed guy in front of me?!

Then he heard the other person put on a pair of medical rubber gloves and continue, "However, I really like the suggestion you just made. Breaking all the bones in the body is a good suggestion."

Under Jose's horrified gaze, the man took out a claw hammer, smiled kindly, and said, "Isabella sends her greetings."