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"No! Of course not!" Hank shook his head quickly.
He was deeply shocked by Ron's powerful fighting ability. At this time, Hank finally reacted. Ron seemed to have mentioned an extraordinary name just now. What was it? Guzman?
Hank was shocked. Could this guy in front of him also be involved in the operation to capture Guzman? The more Hank thought about it, the more likely it was. However, now was obviously not the time to ask this.
"So, what should we do now?" Hank saw several other big men who were drinking around him stand up, put their hands on their waists, and look here with unfriendly expressions. Maybe they were in the same group!
"Bang!"
"IRS business! If you don't want to die, behave yourselves!" Ron had a pistol in his hand in an instant as if by magic. He shot a bottle on the bar, shattering it with one shot. Fragments and beer splashed everywhere. Several strong men who were planning to fight immediately became obedient.
Ron nodded in satisfaction. "Yeah, that's what good little boys look like. Come on, fellas, put all your toys on the table, and don't do anything stupid, or I might get nervous, and my gun might go off accidentally.
I swear, I have no intention of using violence. Seriously."
It would have been fine if Ron hadn't said anything, but once he did, the burly men quickly pulled out various guns and placed them on the table, fearing that if they were slow, Ron's pistol would go off and put a bullet in their heads.
Hank could only give a thumbs-up, his expression showing pure admiration.
Hank had originally asked Ron here partly to investigate a case, but more so to use the local thugs to build up his courage, which had been shaken at the border.
Now, although his main plan had failed, it seemed that some of that fear had healed. With such powerful colleagues fighting alongside him, Hank didn't know what else to fear.
If he had to be afraid, it would be the drug cartels.
"Call for backup. Have your men take them back for a thorough interrogation, especially about their supplier. Look at how pathetic these idiots are. They don't look like high-end drug manufacturers."
"Hey! What are you looking at? I'm talking to you!" Ron cursed, pointing the muzzle of his gun at a large man who was glaring at him with obvious dissatisfaction. "Let me ask you something—do you know what potassium permanganate produces when heated?"
The squatting man looked up, bewildered. "What the hell is potassium permanganate?"
"You must have gone to public school, right? This damn dumbed-down education system." Ron swore that when he had kids, he would send them to private school or homeschool them, so they wouldn't become products of this failing educational system.
They looked tough on the outside, but their brains were complete mush.
Hank returned from making the call. "Our guys will be here in ten minutes. Any other orders?"
He was completely oblivious to the tone of his voice—a subordinate addressing his superior. He'd been following Ron's lead since the moment they'd arrived, and Ron's performance had already won him over without him realizing it.
"From now on, everything's up to you," Ron casually handed the pistol to Hank. "I also have to take my troublesome little brother to apologize to his boss . I promised Mom."
With that, Ron swaggered off, as if nothing had happened. Hank chuckled bitterly. This guy had really left him in a tough spot. How could he handle all those people on his own?
Seeing the enforcer leave, the previously quiet men exchanged glances, a hint of agitation brewing. Hank unceremoniously slammed the butt of his gun, knocking out the nearest man's front teeth. The man's mouth filled with blood, and he glared at Hank fiercely.
But Hank was completely unmoved: "Hey, don't think I'm easy to mess with just because that guy left. Let me tell you something—I'm a DEA agent. I was the one who took down that infamous Tuco a while back. I welcome you to try to be the next one, if you think you're tough enough!"
As a veteran of dealing with drug dealers, Hank understood their true nature better than anyone else. Playing nice and following procedure was worthless—these scumbags would eat you alive in seconds.
Only by being more ruthless than them could you earn their respect.
Ron, secretly observing from the doorway, nodded in satisfaction at Hank's performance. Initially, Ron had underestimated Hank because of his hefty build, but seeing his previous record of taking down Tuco and his ability to control these guys, he knew the man wasn't all talk. Perhaps he could recruit him?
But that was something for the future. Right now, he was hungry and planned to go home for a hearty meal his mother had made.
Back at the apartment, Sheldon, still furious, had locked himself in his room. Leonard shouted, "Sheldon, your mom made lunch!"
"I'm not hungry!" Sheldon's voice echoed from the room.
Mary beckoned Leonard back to the table. "Leonard, don't worry about it. He's very stubborn. He'll stay holed up in there until he gets his way."
Penny complained, "That doesn't sound like such a bad thing."
"I tell you, I love that boy, but he's really difficult to deal with." Mary gave Penny a helpless look, without any hint of anger. She knew her son's personality all too well.
Mary turned to Rajesh, who had remained silent. "I made some fried chicken. I hope you don't have any dietary restrictions."
Rajesh looked uncomfortable but managed a smile.
Fortunately, Ron arrived home just in time to ease the awkwardness.
"Mom, Raj can eat chicken just fine. You're thinking of Hindus who don't eat beef—and even then, it's mainly certain cuts and depends on how religious they are. It's not like there's one rule for everyone.
Actually, India exports quite a bit of buffalo meat to other countries."
Howard expertly came over and high-fived Ron. "Hey, man, you're starting to sound more and more like Sheldon with all these random facts."
Ron shrugged. "Can't help it. With that know-it-all locked away, someone's got to fill the role of resident genius. If you don't mind, maybe we can take turns. That way, it doesn't matter if that idiot stays in his room or not—any of us can play the part."
"Ron, don't talk about your brother like that! He's..." Mary started to scold him, but before she could finish her sentence, Sheldon stormed out of the room.
Like an angry rooster defending his territory, he glared at Ron.
"I'm the smartest scientist in this room, destined to win a Nobel Prize! I can't be replaced by just anyone!"
Ron completely ignored Sheldon's angry glare and looked at Mary with a knowing smile.
As if to say: See, Mom? Even though you're our mother, I'm the one who really understands how Sheldon works.
(End of chapter)
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