"Who's there?"

Moses looked outside with some confusion, a hint of caution rising in his heart, but not too much.

The deathly silence outside seemed to have returned to normal. A breeze brushed past the door curtain, but it only created a slight ripple without causing any real waves.

Moses put down what he was holding. While still seated on his small camp stool, his upper body leaned forward as he prepared to reach out # Nоvеlight # and lift the curtain to investigate.

But to his complete surprise, as the next breeze drifted by, the curtain swayed slightly, and a hand suddenly shot through it with lightning speed, accurately grabbing him by the collar.

The hand wore a black leather glove, almost blending into the night. It appeared as if out of thin air, without warning or room for reaction. Even the hand's owner remained hidden in the darkness, their face completely obscured.

By the time the fuse in Moses's muddled brain finally sparked, the owner of the hand had already tightened their grip on his clothes. An irresistible force surged, directly strangling his throat and making it exceptionally difficult to breathe—

In the next instant, Moses was hauled out without hesitation. The world before his eyes shifted dramatically; the dilapidated little shop vanished, replaced by the rapidly approaching underside of a vehicle and the gloomy night sky looming overhead.

*Thud—*

In the damp, dark alleyway, where not even the dust could stir up a commotion, Moses was slammed onto the bed of a tricycle. His face made intimate contact with the boards in an extremely violent and swift manner.

Then, he felt a sharp pain in his nose. His teeth cut into his lips, and his entire face began to contort wildly. A thick metallic taste of blood filled his nasal cavity and mouth...

Pain, pain, pain—

Moses finally let out a shrill scream: "Aaaah!!!"

Then, the back of his clothes was grabbed again. The gloved hand still showed the silhouette of slender fingers, yet it possessed immense explosive power. With just a hook of two fingers followed by a forceful press of the palm, Moses, who had already been slammed once, had his head smashed against the vehicle bed again.

*Thud—*

"Shut it!"

A very formal, cold British accent came from above. Before Moses could see the person clearly, his mind instinctively conjured the image of an elegant, old-school Gang gentleman. The vicious words left the habitually cowardly man with no courage to resist. He could only struggle to raise his arms, his head still pressed firmly against the vehicle bed and his lower body kneeling on the cold ground. He remained frozen in a cramped and humiliating position: "OK! OK!"

Who was this person?

Which Gang were they from?

Were they looking for trouble on purpose?

Or was it simply to seize territory?

Moses's brain whirred rapidly; for a moment, it felt as if steam were rising from the top of his head.

He wanted to look up and see the person's face, but the threat from a moment ago still rang in his ears. Based on the strength the opponent had just displayed, Moses knew he was no match for them. After hesitating for a moment, he didn't dare look up, fearing that seeing the person's face would lead to him being silenced forever.

"A few days ago—" The voice behind him was cold and slightly melodic, with a hint of magnetic raspiness. From the sound of it, the person shouldn't be very old.

"Two brothers came to hang around your turf. Is that correct?"

"Ah, yes, yes!"

Moses had no time to analyze the other's age; he could only curse those two brothers over and over in his heart.

Fuck! He really shouldn't have let those two scavengers onto his turf!

Look at this! They've brought such a huge mess right to his doorstep!

At this moment, Moses had completely forgotten that just a while ago, he was planning to introduce the two brothers to the Gang behind him to gain more benefits.

"Did those two offend you? Don't worry! I'll find someone to deal with them in a bit! I promise!" Moses swallowed the blood in his mouth and cursed the two brothers foully to show his resolve, while also hurriedly defending himself. "I knew they were trouble! Damn it! I should have kicked them out..."

"Tsk."

However, the mysterious person behind him grew impatient, unwilling to listen to his low-quality, worthless trash talk.

So in the next moment, Moses was hauled up once more and slammed hard against the vehicle bed, producing another loud "thud."

"Aaaah—"

Moses's cursing stopped. This time, he was certain his nose was shattered. The pain, along with the blood splattering from his face, spread throughout his body, making him feel weak and unable to stand straight.

"You still talk too much."

The person said in a faint tone.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, *sob*..."

Moses apologized frantically, eventually unable to even form complete sentences, emitting only low whimpers.

"There was a photographer... he took pictures of something he shouldn't have. I heard that those things have ended up in your hands—is your Gang tired of living?"

The man spoke unhurriedly, this time with a hint of a smile in his voice, which sent a chill straight through Moses's entire body.

Moses finally understood.

Good heavens, so that's what it was!

Those two idiots! It was one thing to steal, but how did they make such a blunder and provoke a big shot they shouldn't have, bringing this disaster upon him!

But how on earth did they find him? He had clearly checked everything he received and turned off all the tracking; they were all currently powered down. Logically, these people shouldn't have been able to track the items here...

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I had no idea, and I have nothing to do with that photographer!" Moses desperately tried to defend himself, fearing that any suspicion would cost him his life. "When those two brought the goods here to fence, I formatted everything immediately. I swear I didn't see a thing!"

"Go take a look."

He heard the young man give an order in a low voice.

Immediately after, he vaguely heard the footsteps of a second person nearby.

Then, the tricycle he was pinned against swayed slightly and sank noticeably as someone else stepped into his dilapidated "shop."

During this time, the entire space fell silent.

Moses swallowed hard, barely managing to catch his breath.

But the person pinning him down didn't relax their grip at all. Fortunately, they didn't continue the beating. The person inspecting the stolen goods in the shop was even more silent, their gender and age hard to discern. Their pace was very steady, but as they moved around the small, rickety vehicle, the boards creaked sharply and the roof made rubbing sounds. Moses guessed this person must be quite tall and large.

By comparison, that person must be a bodyguard or something...

Moses thought, trying to find humor in his misery.

He just wondered which Gang's young master this was. Since he was already so formidable, did he really need a bodyguard to go out?

"The memory card is missing."

Then he heard another, relatively gruff voice report.

"Hmm?"

The young man's tone rose slightly as he made an ambiguous sound from his nose.

Consequently, Moses felt himself being hauled up yet again.

"It's... it's in the tin box on the side!"

Moses hurriedly answered loudly, trying to save his nose.

But to his surprise, the person behind him just gave a light chuckle. Then, their words suddenly carried a hint of murderous intent, laced with the sharp, biting cold of a blizzard: "Who told you to format it?"

Do you know how long his assistant worked tirelessly to get those photos?

Do you know their team has been today all day for this?

No, you don't.

Xiao He thought expressionlessly, while his hand acted honestly, once again slamming Moses's head hard against the vehicle bed.

*Thud!*

"Aaaah—"

Yet another scream rang out.