Little Kleiner suddenly opened his eyes, gasping but unable to form a complete word. He writhed on the ground like a frog skinned and sprinkled with salt.
"Enjoy it slowly," Jack said as he put his earpiece back on and turned to leave.
Although he didn't consider this scum human, Jack still felt a bit uncomfortable after what he had done. In his previous life, such actions were unimaginable, and even in this life, it was his first time doing something so brutal.
But if he didn't do it, he felt a blockage in his thoughts. Thinking about how, in the original story, Little Kleiner had directed a group of thugs to tie Stevenson to a chair, surround him with mirrors, and forcibly keep his eyes open as he was forced to watch his pregnant wife being violated and killed made Jack feel that not carving this beast up with a salted knife was already showing restraint.
Suppressing the urge to shoot Little Kleiner, Jack walked towards the center of the warehouse, needing something to distract him.
The battle was basically over. All the Kleiner family's thugs and the South American gang mercenaries had been cleared out. Retcher and Braxton were like efficient killing machines, leaving only bodies in their wake.
When Jack arrived, only three people were left standing in the center of the warehouse: a fat man with a cane and graying beard, supporting an elderly man in a suit who resembled Little Kleiner.
In front of them was a man resembling a bear, presumably the FBI agent named Picard.
Fenley was currently wrestling with this man. Though both were black, their height and weight were vastly different, with Fenley being repeatedly beaten to the ground. Finally, Retcher intervened, pulling Picard away and knocking him down with three punches.
Jack helped Fenley up. Even without his suit, Fenley had not unleashed any hidden potential, ending up with a bloody nose.
"What are you waiting for?" Kleiner pushed away Mayor Tealer, stepping forward.
Whether it was inherent in his family or the nature of high society, Kleiner, facing imminent death, still put on an act.
Zoey sneered. "Waiting for your creditors to gather. Do you know who I am?"
Kleiner's eyes narrowed, and his sagging cheek muscles twitched, indicating he recognized Zoey.
"From the Anderson family in California? You know everything? This is just a misunderstanding. I don't know why you're investigating me."
"Senator Burnhand clearly warned you, yet you kept pursuing me. I have never wronged you; I've even shown kindness."
"That matter had nothing to do with me; it was KJ acting on his own. All recent events were his doing, including the killing of Chief Morris. That child has gone mad and is completely out of control. I was even planning to send him to a mental hospital."
Jack sneered, thinking the old man was delusional. Send him to a mental hospital? Like Arkham?
"No need. I've already given him treatment. He's enjoying the process, which will help him adapt to his future life in hell."
"No, what did you do? He's just a child. He needs..."
"Bang!" Hanna, who had just arrived, shot Kleiner in the knee, cutting off his words.
"You really are a loving father."
Kleiner screamed as he fell to the ground. "You can't do this to me. Only I can bring hope to this town. I support everyone here. If I die, this town dies with me."
Jack suddenly raised his hand and shot at Mayor Tealer, who was trying to sneak away through the back door.
Then he turned to Roscoe and smiled. "What are you waiting for?"
"You bastard!"
Roscoe lunged like a lioness. "You killed Gray."
This southern town girl had far more fighting prowess than Fenley. Despite the size difference, she quickly brought down the obese Tealer, pinning him and raining punches on his fat face.
"He was my father. You said you were friends since you were six. How could you do this?"
"No...ah...stop...it was an accident. Gray was too stubborn, never listening to my warnings. I told him to stay out of Kleiner's business. It was for his own good!"
"So you knocked him out!"
"Bang!"
"And staged a hanging in the garage?"
"Bang!"
Roscoe delivered a punch with each accusation until Tealer was knocked out. Retcher stepped up, patting her shoulder and handing her the Desert Eagle.
"End this with the gun Gray gave you."
Roscoe stood up and decisively pulled the trigger.
"You can't do this. This is vigilante justice. Picard is an FBI agent. The FBI will investigate. Send me to jail; I promise I won't say anything."
Kleiner clutched his injured leg, desperately seeking a lifeline.
"Bang!" Jack shot Picard in the head. "FBI? Why didn't you say so earlier?"
Even the dumbest person could see Jack was playing him, let alone Kleiner, who had been feigning madness.
"Who are you? And her, what creditor? I don't even know her."
The old man glared viciously at Jack and Hanna, trying to memorize their faces.
Jack ignored him; it was Hanna's turn now.
"I know you don't recognize me. You might not even remember killing my parents. It's okay. I just want to send you to hell myself."
Hanna emptied her magazine into the man responsible for her childhood misfortune.
——
"Click!" Jack closed his lighter and took a deep drag on his cigar, feeling the slight sting of the smoke in his mouth.
After the fierce battle, the men sat silently outside the factory, each with a cigar. These spoils came from Kleiner's office collection.
The sky was gradually brightening, and it was past 4 a.m. The fatigue from the battle left everyone in a daze, staring blankly at the rising sun.
"Actually, this place is quite beautiful," Jack suddenly realized. Since arriving in this town, he hadn't paid much attention to its surroundings, except for a trip to the central square.
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