The car passes not far from Fredo Corleone.
Hidden in the shadows, he sprints back to his own car, starts the engine, and tails them without turning on the headlights.
His enhanced [Physique] boosts all his senses to another level entirely.
Driving through the night with no lights on isn’t even difficult anymore.
He follows the vehicle farther and farther out, until the surroundings become increasingly deserted.
There aren’t many houses left around here now.
This is basically the outskirts.
The car ahead finally pulls into a small yard at the end of a row of houses, cuts the engine, and stops.
Fredo also kills his engine.
About two hundred meters away, he slips into a dark corner, puts on a silver mask before stepping out, then quietly moves toward the target under the cover of night.
“Hey, give me a hand.”
“Hold on, I’m opening the door.”
“Can you hurry the hell up?”
“I’m looking for the key.”
The two men whisper back and forth, completely unaware someone is approaching.
A moment later, a dim light flickers on inside the house.
The two men carry a sack into the room and shut the door behind them.
The person inside the sack is still struggling, desperately trying to claw out even the tiniest sliver of hope, even if it’s hopeless… even if nobody is coming.
After confirming there’s no one nearby, Fredo silently slips next to the door and peeks inside.
The sack has already been opened.
The woman inside has been thrown onto the floor with her hands and feet tied.
Her hair is a mess from struggling so hard, but judging by her figure alone… yeah, she’s stacked.
The two traffickers look completely relaxed.
One fat bastard lounges on the couch stuffing food into his mouth, apparently refueling after “hard work” and preparing for the next round.
The younger one snorts cocaine while getting himself “ready.”
Two pistols sit on the table beside food and powder, the whole place an absolute disaster.
“Hss… alright, I’m first.
You can go after you finish eating,” the younger guy says while walking toward the woman sprawled on the floor.
“The hell you are.
I’m first this time.” The fat man wipes his hands and stands up unhappily.
The woman on the floor finally reveals her face.
Sharp features.
Stunning looks.
She stares at the approaching animals with pure terror and despair in her eyes.
All she can do is roll around helplessly, struggling against the ropes as tears spill uncontrollably down her face.
The two men are away from their guns and still haven’t reached the woman.
Fredo knows this is the moment.
BANG!
The front door explodes inward under a kick.
The two men instinctively turn toward the weapons on the table—
Pfft!
Pfft!
The suppressed Colt fires twice.
Both shots punch straight into their chests.
By the time the gunfire echoes out, Fredo is already in front of them.
One kick each, just to make sure there’s no getting back up.
It’s not that Fredo doesn’t want to put a few extra rounds into them.
He’s just worried the woman—already traumatized from being kidnapped—might completely lose it if she watches some masked lunatic walk in and start mag-dumping bodies.
Besides, at his current level, dodging bullets is practically child’s play anyway.
He checks outside through the windows and doorway.
No movement.
Then he walks over to the woman.
At this point, she’s gone through emotional whiplash several times already, from despair to panic to absolute confusion.
Her tear-filled eyes stare at him silently.
After thinking for a second, Fredo turns and walks outside.
He drives his own car into the yard, then comes back inside and says to her:
“I just saved you, so don’t start screaming and making things worse.
I’m cutting you loose.
Clean up the blood in here.”
Then he unties the ropes binding her hands and feet.
At the same time, Fredo stuffs the two corpses into the sack, one in each hand, and carries them outside before tossing them into his car.
When he comes back in, he sees the woman curled up in the corner, trembling and crying softly.
Fredo can only stare at her speechlessly.
He glances around, finds a bag, wipes up the blood with some clothes, and tosses everything suspicious into the sack.
He even rearranges the room to make it look like a burglary gone wrong.
Another good deed for the day completed.
Hell, I’m not even a gangster anymore.
I’m basically New York’s damn vigilante at this point.
Fredo complains internally.
He grabs the bag and prepares to leave, but then notices the woman still sitting in the corner.
He tosses the ropes into the sack too before asking:
“You planning to spend the night here or something?”
The woman doesn’t answer.
Fredo asks again, “You alright?
Can you walk on your own?”
“I… I can.”
“Then keep up.”
He grabs the traffickers’ car keys and heads outside.
After tossing the bag into the traffickers’ car, the woman finally follows him out and stands beside the vehicle.
Originally, Fredo plans to just leave in his own car.
But after seeing that the woman has calmed down enough to function, he changes his mind.
The traffickers’ car also needs to disappear.
“We need to get rid of this fast, or it’ll cause problems later.
Can you drive one car and follow me?”
She looks at him for a second, then nods.
Fredo tosses her the keys, opens the door for her, and drapes his coat over her shoulders before helping her into the driver’s seat.
Standing beside the door, he says calmly:
“You don’t need to worry about me killing you too.
Trust me, corpses are easier to deal with.
Besides, you never even saw my face, so what exactly would I be worried about?”
His words seem to work.
She starts the engine, and her trembling hands finally steady a little.
Fredo sighs.
Damn bad timing.
If Rocco wasn’t out identifying Barzini for Mikey’s crew tonight, I wouldn’t have to personally handle all this crap myself.
The moon disappears behind dark clouds, like the night itself is trying to hide something.
Two cars travel down the empty highway, one behind the other.
After more than half an hour of driving, they reach an area so deserted it might as well be the edge of the world.
The cars stop by the roadside.
Fredo steps out and looks over the cliff nearby.
No people.
No lights.
No witnesses.
A perfect spot for dumping bodies.
He takes out a can of gasoline from his trunk—the universal starter pack for murder, arson, and evidence disposal—and tosses it onto the ground.
Walking to the second car, he says to the woman:
“You should get out now.”
She opens the door and quietly steps aside.
Even under the weak streetlights, her pale skin and striking facial features stand out clearly.
And up front…
Yeah.
Those “assets” are downright criminal.
No wonder those two scumbags kept talking about how “high quality” she was.
Fredo has to admit, on that point alone, he completely agrees.
He climbs into the traffickers’ car and drives it to the edge of the cliff before getting back out.
Then he drags the two bodies from his own car and throws them into the traffickers’ vehicle.
“You can wait in my car,” Fredo says to the woman nearby.
After double-checking everything to make sure nothing’s left behind, he pours gasoline over the corpses, lights a cigarette, and takes a long drag.
“My damn conscience strikes again…”
He flicks the lighter into the car.
WHOOSH!
Flames erupt instantly.
Fredo walks away from the burning vehicle and leans against his own car while smoking.
Inside the car, the woman silently cries as the firelight flickers across her face in the cold night wind.
Seriously… what even is this night?
BOOM!
CRACKLE!
POP!
POP!
The burning vehicle explodes near the deserted roadside cliff.
Fredo has already moved his car farther away into a less noticeable spot, quietly watching the flames consume everything.
Since this is his first time disposing of bodies like this, he waits around a little longer, planning to push the burning wreck off the cliff once it burns enough.
A rookie mistake.
Because if somebody drives by and sees this mess, wouldn’t that just create even more trouble?