Chapter 1152: Chapter 1121: Solo Duel with Fulong
"Who, who exactly are you?" At this moment, Wang Weibo finally realized the terror of the person in front of him. In the Genovese Clan and the entire Sicilian Mafia, there was no one so frightening. "You, you must be Raphael?" He had always speculated, and for him, the only person he could think of was that legendary head of assassins.
"Boss Wang, we spoke on the phone not long ago, have you forgotten my voice so soon?" Raphael? This name had been forgotten for a long time, and Wang Weibo’s speculation was always centered around the Italian Mafia. Could it be that the person attacking Troy wasn’t him? Xiao Lin spoke in his own voice, immediately causing Wang Weibo to widen his eyes and point his right hand at him.
"You, how can you be here? Aren’t you supposed to be over at Fatty’s side?" Could the information have been wrong? He had just received intel from the people intercepting Fatty, and now he suddenly appeared here.
"Ah, you remembered, huh! Then we can settle the score!" Xiao Lin tossed the head he was holding aside, his palms spinning the spikes, creating a whirlwind. "Where’s the cargo?"
"What cargo?" Wang Weibo was at a loss for words.
"Didn’t you just agree on a meeting point with Fatty for a deal? How could you forget so quickly."
"Were those two women your doing?" As he asked, Wang Weibo quietly put on steel-cast knuckles, testing the fit, and began circling the hall. "I’ve never had any dealings with you, Young Master Xiao. What is it you want to do?"
"Those who kill my brothers and mess with my people generally don’t have a good end. Moreover, you’re working for Wang Zhanting. There will be opportunities to meet in the future, but keeping you alive will only get in my way. Didn’t you kill Cross? You know he was my man!"
"Wasn’t he a CIA agent? He was just too aggressive, investigating relentlessly."
"Who says CIA agents can’t work for me? Wang Weibo, it’s your arrogance to blame. I didn’t want to deal with you so soon, but unfortunately, you’re too greedy." Xiao Lin stood still, not moving an inch. "You probably won’t get Mr. Su’s goods, but if you want me to spare your life, tell me where the arms coming from Yanjing are?"
"I don’t know!" As soon as he spoke, Wang Weibo was already swinging his fists toward Xiao Lin. Compared to Wang Zhanting, this person was skilled in martial arts, evident from the power in his punches.
A deafening clash of metal and a dull thud of body collisions. After a brief separation, Wang Weibo roared and charged at Xiao Lin again.
The spikes in Xiao Lin’s hands created a rush of air. Just as he was about to collide with Wang Weibo, the spikes suddenly dropped downward, swiftly stabbing into the marble floor. Stone shavings rose like a net, enveloping Wang Weibo. In the moment he dodged the shavings, Xiao Lin’s entire body, supported by the spikes, flew horizontally, and his powerful legs kicked precisely at Wang Weibo’s chest.
Zzzt! There was a tremor in his chest, and an iron taste rose in his throat. Wang Weibo clenched his teeth, swallowing the blood about to gush out, as Xiao Lin’s impact flung him away, landing on the ground.
Just as Xiao Lin was about to advance for another attack, Wang Weibo flipped mid-air, swiftly turning his disadvantage into a fierce assault, twisting his waist as he lunged at the spike-wielding Xiao Lin.
Clang! The steel knuckles blocked the spikes’ edge with a screeching rub, and with a determined move, he kicked viciously at Xiao Lin’s chest, his treacherous move as sinister as his nature.
Bang! After the dull impact, even though Wang Weibo landed an effective strike, to a formidable opponent like Xiao Lin, it was like a child scratching an itch, causing no harm.
With a cold smile, Xiao Lin, seemingly knocked back by Wang Weibo, withdrew the spikes with a left-hand swipe. Before retracting his offensive, he grabbed Wang Weibo’s kicking right leg and forcefully swung it to the side.
Boom-boom! Both men crashed into the pillar with immense force and ensuing pain, causing Wang Weibo’s body to stiffen involuntarily. He never anticipated Xiao Lin’s reflexes to be so sharp, a reflex like it was second nature, without any audible panting, making this uneven confrontation oppressive.
"Just tell me where Shao Weihua’s arms are, and I’ll spare you!" The spikes in his palms rotated again, stained with red, looking particularly sinister.
"Only Shao Weihua knows, it’s pointless asking me." Xiao Lin tilted his head, pondering the credibility of Wang Weibo’s words. "I’m not lying, I really don’t know."
"Was Troy a hiring job?" As if verifying something, Xiao Lin casually asked.
"No!" Wang Weibo blurted out without a second thought. "I only hired someone to take out that CIA."
"Then tell me, what reason do I have to spare your life?" He was still pondering. "But no matter how I think, it seems only killing you can warn Wang Zhanting, just like Zhan Tian."
"What?"
Wang Weibo was shocked, forcibly gathering a mouthful of blood energy, swinging his fists towards the incoming spikes. Buzzing, clear musical notes clashed together, spreading outward. Wang Weibo’s robust body was smashed to the ground by this terrifying force, his arms split open with threads of blood, a gruesome sight.
"You..."
In the distance, the sound of police sirens arose. Xiao Lin hesitated as he looked at the lying Wang Weibo. It seems fate didn’t want you dead. Probably someone discovered the corpse on the lawn and reported it. Xiao Lin sighed. "Consider yourself lucky. Next time, remember not to run into me, or it’ll be your death day."
"Died just like that?"
The same words appeared in several different places. Wang Weibo had died miserably in his own home. This news was published early, accompanied by several photos and detailed descriptions.
Nicholas blinked his ice-blue eyes, glancing again at the headline, then read a few other messages in a small black box, as tiny as a piece of tofu.
"Murphy, Murphy!" Nicholas called out, noticing his tea was at the bottom. "I need more red tea and scones. Yesterday was quite a night. Has Miss Adam gotten up yet?" He called out while sliding his bandaged right hand—he was left-handed, his injured right hand didn’t hinder his activities, and judging by his rosy face, he was living quite well, unaffected by ’Wagangnai.’
Murphy rushed in, his brows furrowed at Nicholas’s disregard for his injury, mumbling under his breath. "Young Master, what do you plan to do this early morning? The whole house is almost being lifted by your voice, are you trying to wake all our ancestors of the Clo Clan?"
Nicholas was in such a good mood he was too lazy to argue with his butler. "And Adam?"
"She’s making lunch for you." Ever since returning late that night, this woman had become quite strange. But since the master hadn’t said anything, he, being a servant, naturally shouldn’t meddle.
"Really?" Nicholas jumped up from the sofa. "Looks like I’m in for a treat again today?"
"Yes, you could gain another pound." Murphy teased Nicholas, "But young master, please focus. I don’t want Miss Adam turning my kitchen into a battlefield while I’m away." Although he had to admit Adam’s cooking was good—Chinese food suited his palate—the process was really like a battlefield, filled with chaos.
"Murphy, I think your mood isn’t great today." He somewhat noticed his adorable butler’s sarcasm in every word. "Tell me, what happened?"
"It’s nothing much, just met an idiot, quite annoying." Murphy thought of the person he encountered on his errands this morning, getting a bit worked up, now caught by the young master, starting a self-reflection.
"You rarely leave the clan name incomplete, yet you’ve mentioned Clo Clan more than once today. I now order you to tell me everything clearly, or else I’ll punish you to do volunteer work in the Southern District for three days before returning." Nicholas sat down seriously, hands on the armrests, fingers clasped together.
Murphy pursed his lips, unwilling to speak, but also unwilling to go to the Southern District, the most chaotic place in Palermo, gathering the lowest of the low. He didn’t remember who was in charge now, but it was filthy like a sewer.
"Alright! Related to this?" Nicholas shook the newspaper in his hand, loudly reading a piece of news. "Last night at ’Tomorrow,’ two prostitutes collapsed in the bar, unconscious. The hospital confirmed this morning that the two women died from heart failure. Meanwhile, a man jumped off a building."
"Enough, young master, no need to read further, it’s more than that, yesterday’s death toll was quite high." Murphy slumped onto a nearby stool. "Guess who I ran into when I went out for your errands this morning?"
"Let me think, I can only imagine it’s that one person who can annoy you this much. Robert should still be at ’Wagangnai,’ not bothering you, Wang Weibo strangely died in his apartment, leaving only that big shot—could it really be Shao Weihua!" Looking at Murphy’s reddened face, Nicholas’s blue eyes opened wide, his blond hair for some reason braided into plaits, exposing his broad forehead. "If I remember correctly, you went to the hospital to discharge Augusto and bring him back here today, right!" (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, please visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote and support. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
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