The other side of the boundless sea of ​​kindness

The helicopter slowly landed on the helipad near the church, the airflow from the rotors stirring up the dust on the ground.

Beside the tarmac, a group of men dressed in black suits and wearing sunglasses were already lined up and waiting.

He stood upright with a solemn expression, exuding an aura that kept strangers at bay.

Andy Coles stepped off the helicopter, his black trench coat billowing slightly in the night breeze.

He didn't say anything, but simply nodded to the leader and walked straight towards the convoy that was already waiting nearby.

The car doors closed, engines roared, and the long convoy headed towards the distant, open field of troops—

That was the core stronghold of Andreas's private mercenary group.

The council chamber was brightly lit, yet it exuded a somewhat oppressive atmosphere.

Andreas nestled in the large leather chair, his feet casually propped up on the smooth conference table.

A glass of whiskey is held between my fingertips, the scarlet liquid swirling gently in the glass.

Upon hearing his subordinate's report, "Boss, Mr. Andy Coles has arrived,"

He didn't even lift his eyelids, just glanced at the other person sideways, and said lazily, "Bring him in."

A moment later, a series of noisy footsteps approached, accompanied by the low shouts of his men.

A group of fierce-looking, burly men escorted Andy Coles as he entered.

The air in the council chamber seemed to freeze instantly, the people on both sides locked in a tense standoff, the atmosphere thick with tension.

Andy Coles, however, seemed oblivious to the tense atmosphere, a roguish smile on his face.

He gestured with his chin toward Andreas: "Good evening, cousin."

Andreas raised an eyebrow, a wicked smile playing on his lips, and straightened up a bit, lowering his legs: "Oh, darling, you must be tired from your journey. Would you like something to drink?"

“Anything is fine.” Andy Coles said casually, his gaze sweeping over the bottles of liquor on the table.

“Oh, come sit down, let’s chat.” Andreas gestured to the empty seat next to him.

“Okay, thank you, cousin.” Andy Colles said casually, striding over to sit down with an air of composure.

The man in sunglasses immediately stepped forward and poured him a glass of the same whiskey.

He elegantly raised his glass, gently swirling it; the amber liquid shimmered under the light.

After taking a small sip, she looked up at Andreas, her smile not reaching her eyes: "My goods, cousin likes them very much?"

Andreas chuckled and swirled the wine in his glass. "Oh no, not just like, it's... I really like it." He deliberately dragged out the words, his roguishness undisguised.

"Does your cousin know what my goods are for?" Andy Coles's voice turned cold.

“Of course, darling.” Andreas set down his glass, leaned forward slightly, and his eyes were as sharp as an eagle’s.

“However, I can help you. As for my position…” He paused, a mocking and warning smile playing on his lips, “Don’t even dream about it, hmm?”

As soon as he finished speaking, he picked up his wine glass and gently tapped it against Andy Coles's glass, making a crisp sound.

Andreas tilted his head back, downed the wine in his glass in one gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing, and the meaningful look in his eyes instantly enveloped the entire council chamber.

Andy Colles looked at him, his roguish grin remaining unhurried, his fingertips lightly tracing the rim of his glass—

Andy Coles gripped his glass tightly, his knuckles turning white, his voice filled with suppressed anger:

"Andreas, aren't you being a bit too presumptuous? I thank you for your 'willingness' to help me,"

But it's none of your business to interfere in church affairs; I'm the one who makes the decisions.

As for your position in the Winston family, you've been in it for too long; it's time to step down and hand it over to someone more capable.

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the tense standoff between the two sides in the council chamber, his voice deepening:

"I don't want the old clan chief to see us fighting each other in his peaceful retirement."

"Be sensible and return my things obediently. I don't recommend that the old clan chief stay at my church for a while."

Andreas leaned back in his chair, his fingertips tapping lightly on the table, a hint of disappointment flickering in his eyes:

So, you're trying to restrain yourself? I don't want you to keep making the same mistakes.

Over the years, your ambition has blinded you, and you've long lost your way. Stop!

"Lost their minds?" Andy Colles chuckled softly, his laughter tinged with stubbornness and coldness.

“No, no, no, Andreas, everyone has their own ambitions. I know the path I’ve taken, and I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong.”

He looked directly into the other person's eyes, his tone steady yet carrying an undeniable conviction:

"Stop talking nonsense. You've detained my goods just to make demands. Tell me, what are your demands? I can meet them all."

Andreas looked at the obsession in his eyes, remained silent for a moment, then suddenly leaned forward, his gaze sharp as a knife:

"My condition is simple—give up your unrealistic ambitions."

Go back to the church, serve your family well, and safeguard the foundation of Winston.

Otherwise, you'll never get your hands on that shipment in your lifetime.

Andy Coles's face instantly darkened, and the wine in his glass sloshed violently: "You're dreaming."

"Whether you're dreaming or not, you can try." Andreas' tone was calm, yet carried an undeniable air of authority.

"I'll give you three days to think it over. After three days, either take your ambitions and get out of my sight."

"Or, do as I say." The air in the council chamber seemed to freeze.

Both sides' men held their breath, fearing that a single wrong word could ignite the standoff.

Andy Colles stared intently at Andreas, his eyes swirling with anger and struggle.

Finally, he downed the wine in his glass in one gulp and slammed the glass down on the table.

"Fine, I'll give you three days. But you'd better think it through. If you push me too far, nobody will get away with it."

With that, he got up and left, his black trench coat billowing behind him, carrying a chilling aura.

Andy Colles turned and left Andreas's mercenary group, his men following closely behind.

Inside the council chamber, Jones strode forward, his tone tinged with resentment:

"Boss, are we just going to let him go like that? His attitude just now..."

Andreas waved his hand, his gaze fixed on the direction where Andy Coles and his group had disappeared, his eyes deep and thoughtful.

"Jones, take some men and follow him. Don't show yourselves, and if necessary, lend him a hand."

Although Jones was puzzled, he still replied in a deep voice, "Yes." He turned around and left the council hall quietly with a few capable subordinates.

Here, Andy Coles's convoy had just entered the church-controlled area,

A sharp gunshot suddenly rang out, and bullets whizzed through the car windows, shattering the glass.

The bodyguards, who were escorting the car, reacted quickly, immediately getting out and fighting back, but the other side was already in an ambush.

They were caught off guard, and several brothers fell into pools of blood instantly.

During a lull in the firepower being suppressed, the passenger in the front seat pulled Andy Coles down and out of the car.

They ran frantically into the alley to escape. In their panic, they ran headlong into a dead end.

At the end of the alley, a man with a fierce face was carrying a double-barreled shotgun, a sinister smile on his lips. It was Blake.

“Andy Coles,” he licked his chapped lips, his tone harsh.

"Your weapons were all confiscated by Andreas. Hmph, looks like today is a good day."

Let me see you off on your final journey. It's time for me to take the godfather's seat!

A cold glint flashed in Andy Coles's eyes, followed by a suspicious smile:

"Blake, you betrayed me during the church conflict years ago, didn't you? And now you're still up to your old tricks."

While maneuvering with his opponent, he quickly scanned his surroundings, looking for an opportunity to subdue him.

Blake smiled slyly and brandished his shotgun: "Don't waste your energy, this is a dead end. Don't worry, I'll give you a quick death, you're welcome."

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly raised his shotgun, the dark muzzle pointing at Andy Coles.

Just at this critical moment, a crisp gunshot pierced the air.

Blake's smile froze on his face instantly, and the next second, his head shattered like a smashed watermelon, splattering red and white everywhere.

Seeing this, the henchmen around him were terrified and scattered in all directions, only to be stopped by the people who arrived later.

"Everyone, get down! Put your hands on your heads!" Jones's voice was as cold as iron, and his men quickly brought the situation under control.

Andy Colles turned around abruptly, and when he saw Jones, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes: "Jones?"

Jones stepped forward and nodded slightly: "Mr. Andy Coles, I'm sorry to have startled you. The boss has ordered that you be escorted back to the church."

Andy Coles's face darkened, clearly displeased with this "unnecessary" help.

He didn't say another word, turned and walked out of the alley, his back revealing an undeniable awkwardness—

Andreas's combination of kindness and severity left him somewhat bewildered.

As Andy Coles stepped through the church doors, one of his men rushed over.

His expression was somewhat urgent: "Boss, there's news from Kunming."

"We've found the core documents Qi Haoyu hid; they're in a warehouse of a large logistics company."

“Very good.” A sharp glint flashed in Andy Coles’s eyes as he immediately gave the order.

"Immediately notify the people over there to get their hands on the documents at all costs. Be careful to keep them hidden and avoid any mistakes."

"Yes, boss!" the subordinate replied, turning and quickly running out.

Jones, who was standing to the side, looked at him and said calmly, "Do you need manpower support? I can send some brothers over."

Andy Coles glanced at him sideways, his tone clearly resistant: "No need."

"You should go back and tell Andreas to return what he's holding onto me; I'd be so grateful."

Upon hearing this, Jones's face showed a hint of helplessness, as if he were looking at a stubborn person.

He didn't say anything more, but just gave Andy Coles a deep look.

He turned and left the church, his steps steady, exuding an aura that left no room for argument.

Andy Coles watched his retreating figure, his brow furrowed, his fingertips slightly curled at his sides.

Andreas's increasingly persistent "good intentions" made him feel more and more irritated, yet he also felt a vague and inexplicable wavering—

After all, if Jones hadn't arrived in time, he would probably have already become a victim of Blake's gun.