In the dark night, the screams ended before they even began.
After a rustling sound, the alleyway of the shantytown returned to silence.
The sky gradually brightened.
Wang Jia, who lived in the shantytown, went out as usual, working like a beast of burden in the city.
He had been sleeping quite soundly lately.
Ever since the Hongshan Gang arrived here, people patrolled at night, and petty theft had vanished.
He hadn't fought with thieves in days and hoped every day could be like this in the future.
Thinking this, Wang Jia walked into the alley, and the happy smile on his face stopped abruptly.
In front of him, two bodies, one large and one small, were hung high, swaying slowly in the cold wind, stiff as a wooden stick.
Two gongs hung on their chests, with the word "Death" written in blood in bright red.
He recognized these two as members of the Hongshan Gang.
"Not good, not good, something's happened!" Wang Jia retreated repeatedly, shouting loudly with a pale face.
...