Super Detective in the Fictional World

Chapter 851: A Big Client Drops By and Doing Violent Good

Owen’s ancestors had enjoyed prosperity in the Clinton area for many years, when they successfully turned it into New York’s hell.

The current Kingpin had already started to unite the criminal elements of New York. Beginning with drug trafficking at the beginning, he branched out into smuggling, selling stolen goods, special services, nightclubs, and high-end hotels.

What was even more frightening was that the guy’s reach had extended to major cities all over the country as he swallowed, fought or roped in others, increased his market shares and controlled the market price to obtain even bigger profits.

They weren’t nuts; they didn’t want to go up against such a tyrannical bigshot at all.

Owen, on the other hand, was in too much of a craze to notice his subordinates’ sudden silence. He was still talking about how he would take back his family’s glory.

His subordinates couldn’t help but exchange glances, as if they knew what they were all thinking.

Perhaps, in a few days, they could think about the boss position which Owen currently occupied?

Dead people couldn’t be the boss.

While Owen was arrogantly reveling in his ambitions and his covetous subordinates were waiting for their boss to die, someone suddenly knocked on the door.

There were three crisp raps on the thick metal door before they stopped.

The two criminals guarding the door raised their guns warily.

After a brief pause, three more knocks rang out again.

It was an unhurried tempo, like a stranger politely asking for directions.

Owen waved his hand, indicating that all the guards in the hall should take out their guns and be ready to fire.

Seeing that his men were ready, he gestured at the criminal at the door to open the door slot and see who it was.

One of the criminals leaned forward, only to see the guard who was outside standing solemnly behind a man in a hat and a black cloak, pointing his gun at him.

Only the bottom half of the man’s face was visible; in the shadow of his hat, only the corners of his mouth and his mustache could be seen. He seemed to be smiling very happily.

Stunned, the criminal asked, “Fermi, who’s this?”

Fermi, the criminal outside, said solemnly, “Decker, he said that he’s a big client and wants to talk to our boss in person.”

Decker asked, “Why did you let him knock on the door?”

Fermi kept a straight face. “He said that he would be polite.”

Decker frowned. “Did you search him?”

Fermi raised his other hand to reveal a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills. “This was the only thing on him. He said it was a deposit.”

Decker turned around and looked at his boss, Owen. “Someone said he wants to buy goods. Fermi searched him, and he only had a wad of cash.”

Of course, what Decker couldn’t see from the door slot was how Fermi was sweating outside.

Behind him was Selina, who had activated her optical camouflage. She was holding his clothes with one hand and pointing the barrel of a tranquilizer gun at his back with the other.

Owen also heard the conversation at the door. He hesitated for a moment before he waved at the armed criminals.

The criminals dispersed slightly, but didn’t put away their guns.

Decker opened the metal door and stepped back, pointing his gun at the man in black.

The man in black wasn’t flustered at all. He walked in unhurriedly and nodded at Decker. “Thank you.”

Decker immediately frowned. That sounded like a London accent! Was this guy here to die?

As he was thinking that, the man in black had already walked over to the women who were packing the goods, as if to size up the merchandise.

Owen was immediately annoyed. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

The man in black didn’t answer him, but said, “The dark night gave me dark eyes. I didn’t use them to seek the light, but to look down at you rats in the sewers. Life really is too hard.”

In that London accent, it sounded like he was reciting a poem.

Owen: “...Very good, when I dig out your eyes, they’ll be dark, and your life will be even more difficult.”

Owen had been clearly getting more and more excited recently, and he couldn’t control his emotions anymore.

Also, this guy with a London accent had come to their nest in the middle of the night. Whether or not he was crazy, he had to die.

Because Owen and the others were all Irish.

Everybody in Clinton knew that they were an Irish gang.

A cruel smile appeared on Owen’s face, and he waved his hand at two of his subordinates, indicating that they should break the guy’s hands.

He didn’t want to use guns because he didn’t want the English guy to die so easily. Owen was going to torture him slowly.

The two criminals grabbed two crowbars and smashed them at the man in black.

Through his lenses, Luke saw Selina slip inside through the door, which meant they could start beating up people. “Violence can also be used for good.”

Saying that, he drew two 30-cm-long knives from under his cloak.

A blurry shadow flashed through the air, and the hands of the two criminals felt cold as the crowbars were sent flying.

The next moment, they screamed miserably. Two fine red lines appeared on their wrists, and it wasn’t until a moment later that blood flowed out.

“Shoot him! Kill him!” Owen was a gang leader who had been in the Clinton area for years, and he reacted quickly.

Pa! Pa! Pa! Pa! Pa!

Gunshots rang out.

But the man in black whom they had surrounded moved ten meters away and brandished his knives again.

Another gunman screamed as his hands drooped.

“In the face of villains, we have to resort to extreme measures...”

The voice was magnetic and slow, like from a BBC documentary. Even the deafening gunfire couldn’t drown it out.

The black knives slashed at a criminal’s hands again, and the man tried to hide behind his partner.

However, when Luke passed him and swung, the criminal’s partner also screamed as his hands drooped.

“We must not yield, and must step forward bravely...”

As he spoke, two knives flew out. Two criminals who were shooting with rifles were pierced through the right shoulders and screamed.

“Spare no effort in uprooting the wicked and eliminating evil, and uphold justice...” Luke pushed off of his feet lightly as if he weighed nothing, and turned in the air. He then reached for his waist, and two more knives appeared.

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