“The Lance Family’s control over the Empire District relies mainly on two parts.”
“First, Bolton and his old-tirs!”
The Professor stood in front of a blackboard, explaining the upcoming action plan to the Wolf Gang’s senior cadres.
On the blackboard behind him was written the word “Security,” with two lines branching down, connecting to the nas “Bolton” and “Morris,” complete with their photos.
The photos were not taken up close but were candid shots from a distance, so they were a bit blurry and didn’t look entirely real. However, even if not perfectly clear, they were enough for people to recognize them.
The enlarged photo showed Bolton sitting in a cafe, talking to an old man in front of him. The photographer had skillfully captured most of his face.
He looked sowhat stern, perhaps even a little impatient. Only the bald, age-spotted back of the old man’s head was visible.
The chalk in the Professor’s hand drew several circles around Bolton’s na.
“Lance isn’t any more formidable than others; he’s just a little bit clever. This line of defense seems weak, but it’s actually very effective!”
“Bolton’s old-tirs have all lived in the nearby neighborhoods for decades. As soon as we enter their blocks, they can tell from a glance if we’re people who frequent this street.”
“From there, they can determine if we are outsiders.”
“Everyone contacts Bolton. In other words, Bolton is the ‘spider’ at the center of this web. Take him out, and this network will be paralyzed.”
“So, our first step is to take care of him.”
“Lance has arranged for two to four people to protect him, and there are also their patrol mbers in the surrounding neighborhoods. We need to get it done within two minutes.”
“Otherwise, Lance’s reinforcents will arrive.”
…
Bolton sat in the cafe, savoring coffee and dessert. He absolutely loved this kind of life.
He had money, didn’t need to do strenuous physical labor, and he earned people’s respect.
Nowadays, who didn’t greet him respectfully as “Mr. Bolton”?
Wasn’t this the Federation Dream he had always longed for?
His young wife was already pregnant. After getting married, he had injected almost all his energy into his young wife’s body, precisely to get her pregnant as soon as possible to solidify his position in the family.
It might sound despicable, but it was the only effective thod: to place his entire family under Lance’s control.
That woman was actually quite satisfied too. She had money to spend, no need to work, and lived a glamorous life. In a way, they were the sa kind of people.
Life in the future would only get better. Recently, Bolton had been thinking about looking at villas; a single-family house was no longer enough to satisfy him.
However, he knew now was not the ti; he needed to keep a low profile.
Buying a new house after just a few months—even if Lance didn’t mind, soone would surely gossip.
He didn’t want anyone gossiping; that would undermine Lance’s trust in him.
He turned his head and looked out the window at the sunny weather. The news of the Mayor’s assassination had made the whole city tense, and him too.
He hoped those people wouldn’t co looking for trouble at a ti like this.
As he was thinking, two cars suddenly sped over from a distance and screeched to a halt outside the cafe. The mont Bolton’s gaze noticed a man getting out of the car and quickly swinging his hand out from behind his back, he felt a chill shoot up from his tailbone to the top of his head.
His scalp tingled, and he scrambled under the table in a very undignified manner, pulling out his pistol.
Gunshots rang out the instant he took cover. The glass window shattered into pieces. He pushed the table towards the window while the two bodyguards assigned to protect him also began to draw their guns and return fire.
“Fuck, fuck!”
Adrenaline gave him a montary surge of infinite strength. Taking advantage of the fact that the people outside couldn’t see him, he quickly crawled along the floor to behind the cafe’s counter, picked up the phone, and dialed the company’s number.
“I’m being fucking attacked, at the Maple Leaf Cafe…”
“Fuck!”
One of the bodyguards was hit by several bullets and fell to the ground. The other bodyguard hid behind a table, only able to periodically stick out his hand with his eyes closed and fire a shot.
The tinkling of the doorbell made him flinch. The gunn were coming in.
At this ti, no one but the gunn could be coming in. Who the fuck would run in to order a coffee during a gunfight?
He braced himself, poked his head out close to the floor, and fired two shots. The gunshots made the two gunn who had just entered quickly duck back out, which gave him a mont to breathe.
The counter wasn’t deep. Staying here was a dead end. He suddenly saw a figure trembling behind the bar.
He recognized the person, an illegal immigrant who had been here for two years, working all this ti. The boss paid him twenty dollars a month, which was sowhat conscientious.
Watching him tremble there, Bolton’s brain spun faster than ever before.
“I’ll make a deal with you. You run out and draw their fire for . If you die, I’ll mail five thousand dollars to your family.”
“If you live, I’ll give you the money directly.”
The waiter didn’t hesitate for long before agreeing. “You’re a real fucking animal, Bolton!”
They had actually known each other for a long ti. Bolton ca every day, and the waiter often served him. Over ti, the two beca familiar.
Sotis they would chat for a bit. The waiter had always been proud and honored to be able to talk with a big shot like Mr. Bolton.
But he never expected that this Bolton, who held such a high status in his mind, was this kind of person.
The waiter’s eyes widened as he looked at the weapon Bolton was pointing at him.
Bolton showed no embarrassnt. “I just want to live. I’m sorry, I’ll compensate you!”
He gestured with his pistol as the doorbell rang again. “I’m about to start shooting.”
“Fuck!” This ti it was the waiter’s turn. He glared fiercely at Bolton. “You said it, five thousand dollars!”
Bolton nodded. “Five thousand dollars, my word!”
The waiter took two deep breaths, as if mustering all his courage, and suddenly charged out screaming, “Aaaah!”
In an instant, the six guns outside the counter aid at him and pulled their triggers.
When Bolton heard the first click of an empty chamber, he gritted his teeth and charged towards the kitchen door five ters away.
He fired as he ran. The gunn returned a few shots before their guns ran out of bullets, and Bolton’s return fire also forced them to seek cover.
Bullets whizzed past him. He felt like he’d been hit, but he couldn’t pay attention to it right now. He had only one thought, and that was to run.
He crashed into the kitchen and breathed a small sigh of relief. There was a back door here. He ran frantically towards it, leaving a trail of blood spots on the ground.
The remaining bodyguard saw Bolton run away on his own and started to play dead. The gunn, seeing Bolton run into the kitchen, didn’t dare to rashly give chase. They could only curse a few tis and quickly leave, leaving behind a ss…
…
“After dealing with Bolton, we still need to deal with one more person, and that is Morris.”
The Professor used the chalk to draw a few circles around Morris’s photo and tapped it a few tis to focus people’s attention.
“If Bolton is one of Lance’s eyes, then Morris is his other eye. A one-eyed dragon might not look good, but at least it can still see.”
“We are going to make Lance completely blind!”
“Morris’s father loves to gamble. Recently, through Jobav’s connections, we have found the places Morris’s father frequently visits.”
“We need to find a way to detain him and then have Morris co over to pay for him, under the pretext that he lost money gambling. Morris will definitely co.”
“Ever since Morris started following Lance, his father has lost many tis and had him send the money. So he won’t be suspicious.”
“Without Bolton and Morris, Lance will be like a blind man, completely losing control over the Empire District.”
The Professor pushed up his glasses. “Without eyes, the sky turns dark, which is perfect for our operation!”
…
At the gambling table, Morris’s father, dressed in expensive clothes, cursed foully as he threw his cards on the table. They were playing poker, a ga between players.
The big blind was ten cents, but the winnings and losses of each hand couldn’t be judged by the size of the blind. Sotis, the outco of one hand could be ten, or even a hundred tis the blind.
He lost again.
He glared at the two strangers on the other side of the table. “I haven’t seen you guys before.”
The two n glanced at him sideways. “If you want to play, then buy in again. If you don’t have money, then get lost. Don’t stop others from playing, and don’t get in the way of
making money!”
“Bastard!” Morris’s father looked at the casino operator. “Give
another box of chips.”
One box was fifty dollars. The casino operator walked over with the chips and said softly as he handed them over, “This is the last box. You can’t beat them.”
But he didn’t listen at all. He had already lost seven or eight hundred. Now he wasn’t gambling on winning or losing, but on pride.
Unsurprisingly, he lost again. The casino operator could only call Morris. “Your father lost a lot…”
Morris, who was playing ball, hung up the phone. He exhaled, feeling a bit of a headache, and temporarily said goodbye to the others.
Although he was sotis annoyed with his father’s constant gambling, he couldn’t deny that although his father was a gambler, he had never abused him as a child and had even helped him get so benefits in the casino.
Now that he had money, he didn’t care about his father’s wins and losses in those small-stakes gas.
But his father always put it on a tab, having his son pay whenever he lost. Morris actually understood that this was a way for his father to show off to his card-playing friends.
So whenever the casino called him, he would go. After all, that was his father, and a father who had been good to him.
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