Paul drove up to the warehouse entrance.
Two Russian mobsters outside immediately raised their assault rifles and watched him with hostile eyes.
Paul got out of the car, raised both hands, and walked toward them.
“I’m here to see Vladimir.”
The two mobsters exchanged glances before one pulled out a radio.
“Boss, Paul’s here.”
“Let him in.”
Once they received permission, the two men lowered their rifles.
But then one of them suddenly stepped in front of Paul.
“Wait. Hand over your weapons first.”
Paul spread his hands.
“I didn’t bring any.”
The man clearly didn’t believe him.
He sneered.
“We’ll know after we search you.”
Paul had been Jason’s subordinate, and Jason had killed more than twenty of their fellow Russians not long ago.
Naturally, the mobster had nothing but hostility toward Paul.
Even if there was no real reason to cause trouble, he was determined to humiliate him somehow.
With that, he reached toward Paul’s suit.
A flicker of panic appeared in Paul’s eyes.
If the man touched his clothes, the whole human-bomb plan would be exposed.
Several hundred meters away, Jason tensed inside the Mercedes, his hands unconsciously clenching into fists.
Mr.
Moran, sitting beside him without a care in the world, chuckled.
“Heh. Looks like your little plan is about to fall apart.”
In that split second, Paul slapped the man’s hand away.
“FUCK!” Both Russian mobsters immediately raised their rifles and aimed at him.
Paul brushed the dust from his suit in disgust.
“Searching someone before you even let them through the door? Is this how Russians treat their guests?”
The mobster snarled, “You’re Jason’s dog. You’re not our guest.”
Paul’s expression hardened.
“If that’s how you feel, then go find Jason yourselves. I’m done here.”
With that, he turned as though he were about to leave.
Crackle—
Vladimir’s voice suddenly came over the radio.
“Why isn’t Paul inside yet?”
The mobster who had demanded the search answered, “I think he’s carrying a weapon. I was about to search him, but the kid got nervous and refused. Now he’s trying to leave.”
“Shit! You fucking idiot! So what if he has a weapon? We’ve got more than twenty men here! What are you afraid of?” Vladimir cursed.
“Get him inside!”
Being chewed out by his boss in front of an outsider left the mobster looking furious.
“Get in.” He spat out the words, then stalked off to patrol somewhere else.
Both Paul and Jason, watching from the Mercedes, quietly breathed sighs of relief.
Paul passed through a heavy iron door, followed a dark, narrow corridor through several twists and turns, and finally entered a spacious two story warehouse.
Five vans were parked inside.
The remaining Russian mobsters were busy loading ammunition.
The moment they saw Paul, every mobster stopped what he was doing and crowded around him.
One spat at him.
Another blew cigarette smoke in his face.
Someone else raised a middle finger.
The hatred in their eyes made it seem as though they wanted to tear him limb from limb.
Can’t deal with Jason, so you take it out on me.
What a bunch of useless assholes.
If I didn’t need Vladimir dead, I’d blow you all up right now.
Paul stopped and swept a disdainful gaze around the warehouse.
“Where’s Vladimir? Tell him to come see me.”
“I’m up here.”
Paul looked up.
Vladimir was leaning against the iron railing on the second floor.
“Just like you asked, all my men are here and all the weapons are ready. Now you can tell me where Jason’s hiding, right?”
Paul frowned.
“I don’t like looking up at people. Come stand in front of me and say that again.”
The entire warehouse erupted.
“You filthy nigger!”
“Jason’s fucking lapdog!”
“You’re not leaving here alive!”
Spit sprayed across Paul’s face, but he remained perfectly calm.
Vladimir slowly descended the stairs.
“You’ve got some nerve, acting this arrogant on my turf. I’ll give you that.”
Watching him come closer and closer, Paul smiled.
“If you want to make a name for yourself in Hell’s Kitchen, you need both ability and guts.”
Vladimir suddenly stopped.
Something about the strange smile on Paul’s face put him on edge.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
Vladimir stared at him suspiciously.
“You seem awfully eager for me to come closer.”
“I just want us to have this conversation as equals.” Paul’s explanation did nothing to ease Vladimir’s suspicions.
Then he remembered how Paul had refused to let his man search him outside.
A horrifying possibility flashed through his mind.
No.
Something’s wrong with him!
Vladimir suddenly shouted, “Quick! Grab him! He’s got a bomb!”
Paul’s face instantly went deathly pale.
The mobsters reacted quickly.
With a roar, they lunged at Paul like a pack of wolves, tackling him to the floor and pinning him down so tightly that he couldn’t move an inch.
Paul was crushed beneath them, barely able to breathe, much less speak.
Jason had been listening to everything inside the warehouse through the phone.
The instant Vladimir figured out the truth, Jason decisively pressed the detonator.
It was deep into the night, and the New York sky was black as ink.
Suddenly, a blaze of fire tore through the darkness.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
The whole of Hell’s Kitchen seemed to shake.
The shockwave blasted apart the doors and windows of nearby buildings.
Even Jason, standing hundreds of meters away, felt a wave of scorching air slam into him.
He stood by the roadside, admiring the magnificent sight before him, then threw his head back and roared,
“Surprise, motherfucker!”
[Quest Karmic Retribution complete. Reward: 500 Villain Points. Current progress: 1,515/3,000.]
[21 mobsters killed. Gained 2,100 Villain Points. Current progress: 3,615/3,000.]
[Congratulations, Host. You have reached Level 4. Gained 10 Attribute Points. Current progress: 615/4,000.]
Mr.
Moran rolled down the car window.
“Jason, don’t forget, you still haven’t paid me.”
Jason pulled the Glock 20 from behind his waist.
“Relax. I’m going to collect your money right now. Might as well clean up the loose ends while I’m at it.”
Including Vladimir, there had been twenty four Russian mobsters left.
The system said twenty one had died.
That meant three had slipped through the net.
Gun in hand, Jason quickly ran toward the warehouse entrance.
The mobster who had tried to search Paul earlier, the same one who had later wandered off on patrol, was standing there in a daze, staring at the inferno before him.
I went to take one fucking piss.
How did the whole damn base explode?
Bang!
Bang!
Jason fired twice.
Both rounds punched through the man’s back and tore into his heart.
Jason strode over and put one more bullet into the back of his skull.
[1 mobster killed. Gained 100 Villain Points. Current progress: 715/4,000.]
Jason stared at the warehouse, which had already become a raging sea of flames, and found himself facing a problem.
Charging inside now would be no different from climbing into an oven.
By the time the fire department arrived, anyone still in there would be charred on the outside and cooked through on the inside.
“Cough… cough…”
Violent coughing suddenly came from inside the warehouse.
Jason immediately ducked into cover.
A moment later, two burly men in shredded clothes staggered out, supporting each other.
One of them had a blue shoulder bag slung across his back.
Jason stepped out from hiding and aimed at their legs.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
“AAARGH!”
Both men instantly collapsed to the ground.