The truck rumbled.
Qingshui, dressed in Black Gold, stood in the truck bed, his eyes narrowed as he recalled the intelligence Penguin had given him.
The Spaletta Family, a new mid-sized criminal organization that had risen in Gotham a year ago. Its core members were Simmons Spaletta and John Spaletta, father and son, along with a few of their relatives and some capable criminals forming the backbone of the family.
Simmons Spaletta was cunning and treacherous, the mastermind and criminal strategist of the Spaletta Family. John Spaletta was fierce and aggressive, the primary enforcer of the family's criminal activities.
Their overt businesses included a private freight company and a bar.
In reality, they used the freight company as a front for smuggling weapons and trafficking human organs, and the bar to launder money. They numbered around fifty people, mostly peripheral armed members, some of whom were retired soldiers. They possessed a significant amount of firearms and had a high overall combat proficiency, but no heavy weaponry. A month ago, they were suspected of colluding with another organization to secretly steal a shipment from Penguin.
To Qingshui, the Spaletta Family's size was no match for Penguin's Iceberg Lounge.
So why would this family go up against Penguin?
There could be many explanations. For instance, Penguin's shipment might have contained extremely valuable treasures, making these people willing to risk offending him. Or perhaps the organization they collaborated with was powerful enough to contend with Penguin, or even stronger, and the Spaletta Family was merely a subordinate organization, a disposable pawn.
"But what does that have to do with me?"
Qingshui grinned, looking out at the scenery through the window.
"I'm just avenging Chidi Kohl, the former leader who died at the hands of the Spaletta Family. And while I'm at it, I'll expand my territory. The fight between Hogg United and the Spaletta Family is just a normal gang war."
In the cab upfront, the truck driver flicked a cigarette butt out the window and pressed a button near the door.
"The signal jammer is active. No calls can get out of Dirk Street during this time. The Spaletta Family can't call for backup for now, and the police won't intervene immediately."
The driver's lazy voice drifted back.
Qingshui nodded in satisfaction.
"Good. That fifty-dollar hourly wage and thirty thousand dollars for the car were worth it."
"Excuse me, Mr. Watt, the signal jammer on the roof isn't included with the vehicle. Your usage fee for it is sixty dollars per minute..."
Qingshui's face darkened.
He should have known that getting a deal from Penguin wouldn't be easy.
The truck was nearing its destination. After turning a corner, it led over thirty armed bikers who drifted to a stop in front of a bar.
"What are you doing! This is Spaletta territory..."
A suited bouncer at the bar entrance yelled loudly.
However, the next moment, the Accountant raised his AR15 and started firing.
One of the two suited men fell, while the other clutched his bleeding ear in a daze, frantically running back into the bar.
"Someone's attacking!!!!"
The Accountant looked at the rifle in his hand with a puzzled expression.
Firing a rifle at this distance and only hitting an ear?
"Accountant, let me take point next time."
A tattooed muscular man named Aman shouted at the Accountant, then lifted a riot shield with his left hand, grabbed an M4 with his right, kicked open the door, and charged inside.
"Avenge Boss Chidi!"
A crowd of thugs cheered and rushed in.
"Alright."
The Accountant glanced at his somewhat slender arms, pushed up his glasses, shouldered his gun, and followed.
Aman was the best fighter in the old Kohl Gang, a police academy dropout. He was tall and muscular, and had received some professional training.
Upstairs in the bar's private rooms, John Spaletta, who was drinking with a dancer, and Simmons Spaletta, who was settling accounts on the third floor, both heard the gunfire from downstairs.
They were under attack!
The Spaletta Family reacted quickly. Under the organization of John Spaletta and several core members, they swiftly began to counterattack.
Hogg United had the advantage of a surprise attack. At this time, not all members of the Spaletta Family were in the bar, and they were caught off guard, resulting in many casualties.
However, the latter was, after all, a gang with a deeper foundation and stronger power than Hogg United. Under the organization of several retired soldiers, they quickly established an effective defense, blocking Hogg United's personnel on the first floor.
Intense gunfire, shattered neon lights, screaming dancers, and terrified patrons hiding under tables.
Gotham citizens, especially those in the slums, were no strangers to shootings and gang wars. They knew how to protect themselves in such events, but that didn't mean these patrons weren't afraid.
Soon, people hiding behind sofas, tables, and other objects pulled out their phones and called the Gotham Police Department.
The calls wouldn't go through.
The signal jammer on top of the truck parked outside the bar was interfering with all electromagnetic signals inside.
"Damn it! Geno and Keane are injured too! And Karls!"
Frank, a blond thug, crouched behind a riot shield, gripping his gun nervously. When he occasionally found an opportunity, he would only stick out a small part of his body and spray bullets wildly, not caring if he hit anyone.
A significant portion of Hogg United's thugs had only engaged in activities like extortion. Only a few, like Aman, had fired guns or participated in genuine robberies and shootouts. Their overall strength was two tiers below that of the Spaletta Family.
"And they dare to cause trouble on Spaletta territory with only this much strength? Damn it, these Kohl Gang guys must have a death wish. What does Chidi Kohl's death have to do with us? I'm going to kill all these little bastards today!"
John Spaletta excitedly licked his lips as he loaded his submachine gun.
"Be careful, John. If they dared to come here, they must have something to rely on."
Simone Spaletta held a pistol, cautioning him softly.
He felt something was off.
It was clear that the other side was just a disorganized mob, but why hadn't they fallen apart yet?
They definitely had something up their sleeve!
"Big Brother Aman, I'm so scared. What if I want to run away?"
The green-haired punk with the mohawk cried, clutching his bullet-grazed calf.
"Boss should be almost done with his training exercise. You've all seen blood now, so you should be able to make a move," the muscular man, Aman, panted, leaning against a pillar.
If Boss Watt didn't show up soon, they'd all truly be done for!
Just then, the wall of the bar's main hall exploded, and a black metallic giant, over two meters tall, stepped out.
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