Darkstone Code-Chapter 839 - 837: Just Lighting a Cigarette
The next day, several prisoners were beheaded in the square, leaving a pool of blood. ๐๐๐๐๐๐ฎ๐ซ๐๐ธ๐ซ๐ฎ๐ต.๐ฌ๐ค๐ข
The onlookers stared at the rolled heads, and behind the fearful eyes, there was also some excitement.
The murder of oneโs kind certainly evokes uncontrollable sorrow, but if such slaughter is merely to demonstrate the position of power, itโs not between opposing species, then people wonโt feel sadness.
They only feel excitement, envy, jealousy, wondering why they donโt have such power.
The City Hall announced that these people were gang members who robbed and killed Mikeโs group; their heads were covered with sacks, so no one could see their appearances.
Whatever the local government said, people believed, whether or not they truly believed it; at least they wouldnโt step out to oppose the governmentโs actions or statements, as that would purely bring trouble upon themselves.
However, some people are still spreading the word that those beheaded were not the masterminds and murderers of the Mike incident.
Everyone knows who did these things and also knows that those people are still alive and well; who is lying is plain to see.
But people see no need to say anything; offending the local government is a foolish choice, as is offending those gang members.
This matter seemed to come to an end, and the gentlemen from City Hall even brought out cameras, capturing the execution moments said to be sent to the Federation Government to tell them the matter ends here.
It sounds... somewhat laughable.
For Suge people who donโt consider themselves backward, no matter how renowned Bail Federal is internationally, arenโt they played around by their not-so-famous little country?
This inexplicable sense of superiority suddenly straightens the spines of onlookers in the square; under the flaring lights raised by photographers, people turning their profiles towards the camera become the content of next weekโs Federal Times front-page headline.
Their heads twist bizarrely, with over a dozen headless corpses neatly collapsed on one side in the middle of the frame, large patches of blood on the ground, and some kids kicking a human head with laughter in the distance...
This matter ends here.
An 1.8-meter gang leader sits in his chair with his subordinates counting bundles of money, stacking and tying them with strips made of leather, placing them on a huge table.
The table is piled high with money, a whole foot tall, while close to the leader also sit some gold items and various pieces of jewelry; all this money is exchanged with Federation peopleโs goods.
Federation people donโt want local currency, but for those living locally, they donโt mind it; they even prefer exchanging it into local currency, as at least it can be used anytime, anywhere.
This is just half; thereโs still another half unsold, stored in a warehouse, waiting for the time when he needs to open up some relations; these goods, carefully selected, will become crucial.
No one refuses wealth, nor does anyone refuse exquisite goods from the Federation; these things wonโt be easy to get in the future.
Since Mikeโs shop was robbed and the merchants in his group got killed, many Federation merchants have withdrawn during this period.
Even if some havenโt left, they are also reducing their business scale.
Thinking over this, the 1.8-meter gang leader wonders whether to do it once more.
Too addictive, the profit too great, and the key is to "block" these markets back.
Only if Federation people donโt come to do business for a while, the things in his hands can keep appreciating in value.
Another four or five days pass, around ten in the morning, the 1.8-meter gang leader stretches lazily as he emerges from his room.
When the door opens, it reveals a woman lying on the bed inside the room, stark naked, her body covered with injuries.
This woman is the little lover of Mikeโs brother; like Mike said, thereโs no pure love story of a teenage girl falling for a forty-year-old man.
The girl just wanted to cling to Mikeโs brother, getting a ticket from him to leave Suge.
For many girls living in poor, backward, and chaotic regions, if they can just leave that hellhole and have a temporary place outside, they are willing to pay any price!
Unfortunately, Mikeโs brother fell into the trap, the dawn of good days dispersing the darkness was shattered, and eternal night descended...
The girl lying weakly on the bed has no trace of thought in her mind; she does nothing nor thinks anything, her mind seemingly paused.
She is here just like a toy, anyone could play with her.
When the leader finds this toy interesting, he would possess her for a while, then she would be passed to others.
If unlucky, she dies and becomes food for stray dogs; if sheโs lucky and doesnโt die, she will have to put on revealing clothes and do the basest things to earn money for the gang.
On the day hope and future died simultaneously, so did she and her soul.
The 1.8-meter gang leader looks at people jogging on the nearby field, displaying a somewhat self-satisfied expression.
Reached this point, he is about equivalent to a small clan.
With money, people, weapons, and ruthlessness enough that ordinary powers dare not confront him.
Continue operating for three to five years, maybe he can even grab a mayor or officer position.
In this backward and barbaric country of Suge, power is never inherited, but seized.
The people in the courtyard are his future assets, including some newly recruited young men, many of whom have gained a bit of fame outside with their fierce demeanor.
But before him, each of them is as obedient as the girl in the room.
His approach made the people running stop, and he took out a cigarette, immediately someone came over with a lighter, shielding it with their hand, and handed it over.
He planned to say something to establish and deepen his position in their hearts, as it was also a way to bring everyone closer.
The flame in front of him got closer to his mouth, he lowered his head and moved the cigarette towards it, but at that moment, with a sudden sound, he tumbled and fell to the ground, looking at the slowly collapsing large body, his already shattered brain stubbornly pondered one last question.
Just lighting a cigarette, can actually blow a manโs head off?
This sudden change dumbfounded everyone, this six-foot-tall gang leader had been around this area for many years.
It wasnโt that no one had challenged him before, but all who challenged him died, so much so that no one thought of rising by stepping on his head.
And yet, at this moment, he died.
One shot blew his head apart, and then more intense gunfire rang out, but something felt unusual.
These gunshots didnโt sound like locally used shotguns, or the guns from abroad, which were loud and booming.
These gunshots were a continuous "tat-tat-tat," not harsh or loud, but clearly audible.
The people who had just stopped to catch their breath were like wheat being harvested by the Death Godโs scythe, blood blossoming on each body as they fell, not even knowing what had happened until now.
At this moment, three soldiers in thick combat gear burst through the door, and those pretending to be dead, and the people in the room, finally realized that the attackers were on the roof next door.
These soldiers were well-trained, advancing alternately, and those pretending to be dead had no chance to escape. After entering, they put a bullet in everyoneโs head.
Youโve heard of people whose hearts are on the other side, but no one has ever heard of heads growing on butts, and thatโs true.
Whether pretending to be dead or not, a bullet to the head kills for good.
Sporadic gunfire would occasionally erupt thereafter but soon stopped, and everyone in the surrounding rooms was cleared out, leaving no survivors.
Of course, except for those who looked like victimized girls.
They were herded together, shivering, some vomiting, some already fainted.
In contrast, the young girl with bare skin woke up from the pungent smell of blood, shivering slightly, her vacant eyes regaining focus.
She looked around blankly, her eyes soon landing on the six-foot gang leader with half a head left.
She rushed over, grabbing, kicking, venting the anger and despair in her heart...
All the dead bodies were dragged to the center of the courtyard, then someone took photos of them, not forgetting to film the depot of these people, and took away everything valuable and portable.
From the first gunshot to the end of the battle and withdrawal, it took less than ten minutes.
In ten minutes, the mayor was still asleep, and the police station director had just gotten out of bed.
In ten minutes, some bold people gathered outside the courtyard door, craning their necks inside.
"I swear weโll get punished this time when we go back," an assault team member chewing tobacco casually commented.
The thrill from killing subsided quickly after a brief excitement, and he began to feel nervous. Chewing tobacco was a great way to relax and alleviate tension.
The captain glanced at him sideways, "Mind your own business; Iโll handle the rest!"
In the backseat of the vehicle, a girl wrapped in a sheet watched these people, her mind in a haze, not knowing how to describe her inner thoughts at this moment.
She thought she had fallen into hell, only to find herself climbing back out...
When those people were about to leave, she suddenly said, "Take me with you, I know Mike."
Then the captain took her along.
This woman might be useful, that was the captainโs thought. To reach the level of captain at Darkstone Security and command a military operation, it takes not just professional competence, but also brains.
He knew what Mr. Lynch wanted, this girl was of value.
He looked back at the girl, "We might need to take your photo later, if you donโt mind."
The girl was utterly unconcerned whether more people would see her body, she had only one question, "Can I go to Bail Federal?"
