Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

“No need for trouble, all the living people here… have been captured by you…” Clementza’s voice was weak, his pupils almost unfocused, and he could only speak in lip-reading. “I kept trying to persuade him, but I couldn’t stop him… People in high positions all have this common problem; they always feel… that all of this is a matter of course. They think their success is a matter of destiny, but they forget how difficult it was to get there in the first place…”

"Fortunately, he listened to my advice one last time... He ran away..."

"When I laid the foundation, I... didn't care about human life, I was ruthless... Many people died because of me. I... I knew I would end up like this, I just sensed it, and it came a little late."

“You’re his strategist.” Zhang Renfeng realized, and frowned slightly. “He just abandoned you like that and ran off?”

“There’s nothing strange about it. In the beginning, he was just a rat in the sewers… Ultimately, you are you, you won’t suddenly become… someone else. Even if he dresses like a peacock, he is still that rat. That’s why he… turned Saint Quintak into a… giant sewer…”

“Mr. Hongzhong!” Xiaomei’s voice came from the room. “We’ve found it! It’s a secret passage! There’s a large hole under his bathtub, and we don’t know where it leads.”

“Ha… I’ve already said it, the rats in the sewers are best at digging holes…” Clementza laughed. “He’s like me, feeling uneasy but unsure what to do…”

"boom!"

"boom!"

……

A barrage of gunfire and shouts of battle erupted from outside the door as the henchmen scattered around the courtyard finally closed in. Only the majority of them had gathered in the main hall earlier; the remaining forty or so men, once assembled, charged forward in unison, creating a rather impressive sight.

The prisoners, huddled together, naturally witnessed this scene. These loyal warriors of Angelo exchanged glances and had already snapped out of their panic.

There are people!

There are reinforcements coming!

"Damn it!" Calaway squinted and instantly drew his revolver.

"..." The chieftain remained silent, drawing his bow to its fullest extent.

"Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!"

“Whoosh——!!”

Four shots were fired in quick succession, each one of the surrendered prisoners being blown off in the head. The chieftain also fired an arrow, and in the blink of an eye, five prisoners were executed cleanly and efficiently.

Mike and Theon, who were on the first floor, instantly realized what was happening and fired several more shots, killing all the prisoners in the room.

Only Xiaomei was still caught up in Zhang Renfeng's promise of "surrender and you will not be killed" from the previous round, and she was stunned for a moment and did not fire her gun.

"Heh...heh heh, get to work. Your team is full of formidable men..." Clementa chuckled as he heard the gunfire, knowing they had finished killing the prisoners. "This city has always needed a leader...either him, or you..."

"I hope that Saint Quintak under your rule will at least... be better than his..."

Before he could finish his last sentence, Clementza breathed his last in agony.

"Well done, everyone. At least make sure everyone in the room is one of our own." Zhang Renfeng quickly recovered from his emotional state and first affirmed everyone's actions. "Can you hold out?"

"Huh? Hold them off? You're kidding me." Calaway reloaded with his right hand, licking his lips. "Perfect timing, I'm going to wipe them all out!"

Theon pushed the wardrobe over to block the front door, then moved a chair over and used the back of the chair to lock the door. "We've run out of grenades. We can use the house itself as cover. We have enough ammunition, so it shouldn't be a problem."

"Alright, I'll leave this place to you. Don't let a single one escape. After you're done cleaning, also search the house to see if there's anything valuable."

As the team leader, Zhang Renfeng gave a decisive order: "I will definitely catch that sewer rat."

Chapter 259: Two Mice, Two Mice... (Part 6)

"Ha...ha...no, I can't run anymore..."

The shadow mayor of San Quintac, the leader of the Italian gang, a legendary figure with close ties to the city's elite, feared by countless people. And his top henchman, Guido, a frequent target of protection money collection and hated to the core, was currently staggering down the street, reeking of a foul stench.

Passersby frowned and glanced at the smell, their disgust written all over their faces.

There are no wrong nicknames, only wrong names.

The title "sewage rat" actually belonged to Angelo, but as his power grew, no one dared to call him that anymore, and he was replaced by the more prestigious "Italian."

But as Clementa said, beneath his strange clothes, he was still the same humble, clever little man he once was, and he did indeed enjoy digging tunnels underground.

This emergency escape route started from the bathtub in his bedroom, connected to the city's underground sewer system, crawled through dark, foul-smelling spaces, traversed a large part of the city, and finally reached the exit. When he emerged, he would inevitably be covered in the odor.

Once upon a time, the two who were high and mighty became people's most despised figures, and Angelo no longer had the energy to care about other people's opinions.

After living like an Italian for several years, sitting in his luxurious mansion issuing orders and getting whatever he wanted, he only appeared in public for charity or business events. His life of ease and comfort made him breathless after just a few steps.

Flashy leather shoes are glamorous enough, but not suitable for traveling.

Angelo waved his hands repeatedly, "Wait a minute, Guido, let me rest for a while. Damn it, I must have twisted my back just now..."

"No time to rest!" Guido's eyes widened, and he lowered his voice to angrily rebuke, "How long do you think this secret passage can be kept secret? They're not stupid. At most, it will only delay them for a few minutes. Once they get here, they'll crawl through this tunnel, and then it'll be a few more minutes."

"We only have a lead of these ten-odd minutes. Are we going to waste it?"

Angelo wiped the sticky sweat from his face and looked at him with some unfamiliarity.

This moment is not the same as that moment.

The pyramid of power collapsed, leaving us stranded on a deserted island, where only the weak obeyed the strong.

Although Guido was all bark and no bite, he was still a young man after all, and Angelo had no choice but to listen to him, nodding and continuing on his way.

Their destination was the port of San Quintac, which was their only way out.

San Quintak is a very large city. Without transportation, in complete darkness, they had no idea where to go. Even if they did escape, what then? The wilderness was swamps and mud; for two people accustomed to city life, survival seemed impossible.

The only chance of survival is to take a boat and leave this place.

Fortunately, the two supported each other and finally saw the dazzling lights of the harbor, where a cruise ship happened to be docked.

In their eyes, it was like salvation from heaven.

"Where will we go after we get on the boat?" Guido asked, sounding somewhat uneasy.

"How about Tahiti?" Angelo said, pursing his lips, half-mockingly. "We could go there, grow mangoes, buy a piece of land, and spend the rest of our lives by the warm sea. For outlaws, that's a pretty good ending, at least better than being blown to bits, don't you think?"

"Um..." Guido was silent for a long time, "Are you serious?"

"Of course it's fake, you idiot!" Angelo, whose emotions had been stretched to the limit, suddenly broke down, yelling in the street and shoving Guido. "How the hell am I supposed to know where this ship is going! It's already like this, do I have any other choice?! If you want to go to Tahiti to grow some damn mangoes, go ahead, my money's all here, I'll get it back sooner or later!"

"How dare you hit me?" Guido retaliated, punching him in the face and instantly knocking the weak Angelo to the ground.

"what--!!"

The two were wrestling on the ground, pulling each other's hair and scratching each other's faces, looking utterly disheveled.

Interestingly, such things are commonplace on the streets of San Quintac. This city is a den of iniquity, where people are constantly being exploited and left drunk. For any reason, perhaps just a glance is enough to start a fight between two beggars.

In the midst of the fight, Angelo suddenly came to his senses and shouted, "Wait! Wait a minute, stop fighting, it's too late, he'll catch up with us."

"Now you know not to hit me?" Guido grabbed a handful of mud and slapped it hard on his face, shouting angrily, "Where were you before!"

"Do you have any money on you?" Angelo spat out the mud, reached into his pocket, and looked troubled. "I need money to buy a boat ticket."

"You have no money?" Guido was so shocked he couldn't close his mouth, and said in an extremely contemptuous tone, "You Italian, you have no money?!"

"Shh—! Keep your voice down." Angelo's tone suddenly became guilty. "Precisely because I'm Italian, wherever I go, others treat me, so I never carry money. I'm used to it."

"Oh……"

Guido sighed, rubbing his forehead. Despite his face being covered in mud, his expression had changed instantly.

"So, you don't have a single penny on you right now?"

“You can’t say that. Look, well…” Angelo reverted to his Italian ways, making various gestures so fast they looked like he was forming hand seals. “In many cases, wealth is abstract.”

“Abstract?” Guido roared. “You’re the most abstract thing ever—!”

“My assets are my wealth, but now they don’t exist in cash; instead, I’ve converted them into other investments. They’re in banks, under different names, stored in different places, turned into numbers… My assets have been destroyed, but those accounts, those numbers, still belong to me!”

Angelo tried his best to persuade him, "As long as we can get out of here and into a safe place, I can withdraw the money. Then I'll give you a quarter of it, too..."

"A quarter?"

"Snapped!"

Guido slapped Angelo hard, knocking him to the ground.

"No, then how about half, fifty-fifty, is that alright?"

"Boom!"

Guido kicked him in the stomach again. "I'd rather you stay here and die, you wretched thing!"

"It's all yours, it's all yours..." Faced with a life-or-death situation, Angelo was desperate. He wiped the dirty water from his mouth and promised, "Go buy a ticket and take me away. Once we're safe, I'll cash out all the wealth in my account and give it all to you!"

----

"Two boat tickets."

"Wait a minute... Ugh, what's that awful smell on you? What happened?" The ticket seller frowned. "Did you fall into a latrine?"

"Enough with your nonsense, you damned bastard!" Guido, seething with anger and nowhere to vent, slammed his fist on the railing. "Tickets!"

……

The more nervous you are, the more you forget to pretend and reveal your usual habits.

It was this swear word and his arrogant attitude, so different from his destitute situation, that made the ticket seller take another look.

"Giddo Matthias..."

"You're Guido Matthias from the Italian gang!"

The once quiet dock suddenly became noisy, as a large group of dockworkers suddenly appeared from some unknown corner and surrounded it.

The Italian gang's reputation seemed to lose its intimidating power at this moment. Everyone's eyes turned red, and they rushed forward like a tidal wave, shouting incessantly.

"Pay back the money!"

"Damn those Italian gangs, give me back my hard-earned money—!!"

Chapter 260: Pay back the money! Pay back the money! (Payback 7)

As more and more people gathered, Guido visibly panicked, repeatedly denying, "No, I'm not the person you're talking about, you've mistaken me for someone else!"

"I need to buy a boat ticket, so get out of here right now, or I'll kill you all one by one!"

He pulled out his gun, intending as always to use this method to subdue these laborers living at the bottom of the city. However, he failed; for the first time in history, Guido was outnumbered.

Surrounded by so many people, their eyes filled with undisguised hatred, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say they wanted to tear him apart.

"Give me my money back! Give me my money back—!!"

This was the only thing Guido could understand amidst the chaotic roars.

"I don't understand, what money do you mean?" As more and more people gathered around, Guido fell into a state of frantic despair, scratching his head frantically. "I don't owe you any money, not even a penny! Why are you asking me for money? Please, let me go, I'm running out of time."

"Ha, this guy's trying to deny it, huh? He thinks he can just swallow our money and call it a day? Don't even think about it!"

"I don't fucking care where you're going. This is six months' worth of wages, all of it! And you just swallow it all up like that?! Give me back my money, give me back my money—!!"

……

Few people are truly rational, especially when emotions run high; they're unlikely to offer any useful information and are mostly just venting their feelings. The dockworkers here are generally poorly educated, but that doesn't excuse them. Amidst the barrage of insults, it took Guido a long time to piece together their true demands.

These people were all bettors in the Italian underground boxing matches.

The competition was held at the dock, and it was here that Zhang Renfeng went on a killing spree. The huge hole in the ground is still there.

Those who come to watch these boxing matches often have a gambler's mentality, with some betting their entire fortune on the strongest fighters, hoping to make a small profit after the money circulates in the prize pool. And historically, the odds have often worked out for them. The Cuban boxer, Crocodile, is such a fighter; his win rate is relatively high, so some risk-averse gamblers place large sums of money on him.

However, in a recent competition, the unexpected combination of Chief and Zhang Renfeng broke the mold. Many people saw Chief's potential and went all in on him, and most of them made a lot of money.

In the final competition, Zhang Renfeng caused a scene and killed the organizer.

With Pete and his men dead, the area came to a standstill, and nobody took charge. At the time, the entire Italian clique was swamped with work—preparing the mayor's dinner, sending signals to various friends…who had time for this?!

As a result, before the final round of the competition began, they collected a large amount of capital, but the entire event organizers then absconded with the money.

Many people invested their hard-earned money, even their entire fortune, only to receive no return. Waiting one day, two days, they grew increasingly resentful. They believed that the Italian gang was deliberately manipulating the system to steal their money.

Gangsters, Italians, go to hell! The gamblers, driven by their own rage and barely surviving, have even forgotten their fear.

"Ha... What a joke! This little bit of money, this little bit of money... and you dare to block me here?!" Guido's low growl was filled with anger and disbelief.

For the Italian gangs, the stakes and prize money from underground boxing matches weren't exactly lucrative, at most a few thousand dollars; it was more of a means to maintain their influence. But ironically, no one bothered to address it, and after Pete's murder, this business completely came to a standstill.

These people, whom he once looked down upon, are now surrounding him, becoming stumbling blocks that hinder his escape.

"Get out of my way! I told you to get out of my way, didn't you hear me! I have no money, I'm broke, but he has money, go ask him for it!"

Guido shook his head, pointed to Angelo hiding behind the crowd, and shouted, "This guy's Italian, he's in charge. You want money? Go ask him!"