In the darkness of the night, the screams ended before they had even begun.
After a series of rustling noises, peace returned to the alleys of the shantytown.
The sky gradually brightened.
As usual, Wang Jia, who lived in the shantytown, went out to the city for labor.
He had been sleeping soundly lately.
Ever since the arrival of the Hongshan Gang, with people patrolling at night, petty thefts had disappeared.
For several days, he hadn't fought any thieves, and he truly hoped every day could be like this.
With these thoughts in mind, Wang Jia stepped into the alley, and the happy smile on his face abruptly stopped.
Before him, two bodies, one large and one small, were hung high, swaying slowly in the cold wind, stiff like a wooden post.
Two gongs hung on their chests, with a bright red "dead" character written in blood.
He recognized them as members of the Hongshan Gang.