The night was already deep, and the heavy darkness pressed down on the entire city.
Bob was woken by the ringing of his phone.
He opened his sleepy eyes, his furrowed brows announcing his terrible mood at being disturbed.
"Hello," he said into the receiver, barely suppressing his anger.
But no sound came, and Bob glanced at the screen only to find the call had already ended; it was Ibai's phone number.
He was about to call back to question Ibai about what was going on.
Suddenly, the computer in the room lit up on its own.
Bob walked over to the computer and saw only a grinning demon face on the screen.
Below it, in blood-red capital letters, it read, "Click to enjoy!"
"It's that demon again!" Bob's expression turned grim.
He clicked it, and a video began to play.
Bob could vaguely make out Ibai, who was drinking water in the footage.
Suddenly, the curtains were pulled open, and a gasp simultaneously rang out; with the moonlight, the scene in the video brightened.
In the foreground was a small tower made of heads, and a long-haired head rolled over and knocked it down.
Bob stared intently at the video on the computer; Ibai was already dead in it.
His head was placed at the very top, serving as the spire of the pagoda.
The screen began to rotate.
Suddenly, a terrifying large face appeared on the screen.
Its long, pale eyes emitted an evil, cold gaze, its gaping mouth revealed sharp, dense teeth, and a crimson tongue dangled casually from its lips, dripping viscous saliva.
A hoarse, terrifying voice emanated from this monstrous mouth, like the wailing of a demon from the depths of hell.
"Next, it might be you, heh heh heh heh!"
Bob instantly felt cold sweat break out all over his body, goosebumps rising, as if he had fallen into an ice cave!
"Ding-a-ling-a-ling!" Just then, his phone rang again, startling Bob.
Bob looked at the number; it was his old brother, his second-in-command, Sith.
He suppressed his trembling voice, trying to sound as calm as usual.
"Boss! That demon sent me a video!"
Sith said with a trembling voice.
He had been sleeping soundly when Ibai's call woke him up.
Seeing the number, he answered and immediately started cursing, but there was no response.
Then his computer turned on by itself, and that video appeared.
After watching the video, he was terrified and just wanted to talk to his boss about what to do next.
Bob confidently told him not to worry, that he would make the necessary arrangements.
After hearing his boss's assurance, Sith, somewhat relieved, hung up the phone.
Next, several other old brothers who had received the video called, and Bob still gave them the same reassurance.
After hanging up the phone, Bob lit a cigar, frowning as he quietly pondered.
A moment later, he pulled out a business card from a drawer.
On the completely black card were several hot-stamped gold letters: "Blackwater Security Company."
The back of the card was the same, except the text was replaced with a phone number.
The black business card had only one line of text on each side, simple and clear, elegant and generous.
Bob took a puff of his cigar, rubbing the business card between his fingers.
A moment later, he picked up his phone and dialed the number.
"Beep ~ beep ~ beep ~"
"Hello!"
"Hello, Blackwater Security Company is dedicated to serving you!"
At George's home on the other side of the city.
George was lying in bed, sleeping. He had been incredibly busy for the past few days, and now he could finally get some good rest.
"Beep beep beep ~"
A rhythmic tapping on the window glass startled George awake.
As a police officer, he sensed something was wrong with heightened alertness. He slowly got out of bed, taking the pistol from the bedside drawer into his hand.
He moved slowly towards the window, trying not to make a sound.
Strangely, the sound stopped after he woke up.
George reached the window and, after a careful check, found nothing unusual.
There was just a file bag on the windowsill, held down by a stone.
George, holding his gun, opened the window and brought the folder inside.
He returned to the bedside, picked up his phone, and, using its light, opened the folder and began to read.
Seeing the information inside, George's eyes widened instantly.
The demon had just killed Ibai too.
The folder contained Ibai's villa address, as well as evidence of Ibai's illegal activities.
In addition, there was a USB drive, and George knew without looking that it contained more criminal evidence.
Seeing these documents, George understood. The demon had killed Ibai and then sent the information to him.
The purpose was to use the police's power to uproot Ibai's dark connections.
Looking at these documents, George instantly lost all sleepiness; this matter needed to be dealt with as quickly as possible.
He put away the documents and began to change his clothes.
His wife on the bed felt the movement and asked sleepily, "Darling, is it time to get up? Why didn't the alarm ring?"
George leaned down and kissed his wife's cheek, saying softly, "It's still early, I have something I need to go to the police station for now."
"Sorry I woke you, my dear."
His wife understood, hugged George, and kissed him.
"I understand. Go quickly then, and be careful."
George reassured his wife, then dressed and drove to the police station.
Along the way, George made numerous calls; a sudden operation without prior notice required many arrangements.
Since he had this opportunity, he had to seize it and remove these cancerous growths.
As George set off for the police station, Meng Ran was also preparing to go home.
The remaining cleanup work would be left to the police.
Originally, Meng Ran had also wanted to appear quietly at George's bedside, like Batman and Gordon.
But after thinking about it, he decided against it, lest George raise his hand and give him a burst of gunfire.
So Meng Ran placed the documents on the windowsill and then tapped on the glass to get George's attention.
After seeing George get up, he left.
Back home, Meng Ran meditated as usual, practicing the Free Breathing Technique.
This possession of Gwen had brought him a significant improvement. Next, he needed to spend more time on the Free Breathing Technique to integrate his power as quickly as possible.
This improvement was too great, and he estimated it would take some time to digest this power. Meng Ran hoped this process would be as short as possible; he disliked the feeling of being out of control.
Now, Meng Ran felt that his overall physical fitness could be said to be among the top ranks of humanity.
But despite this, he still felt it was not enough for the future crises.
Perhaps Meng Ran was very strong in solo combat, but if he faced a crisis like the Battle of New York, with so many alien creatures invading en masse, even if he could defeat one with each punch, he simply couldn't fight them all.
"Are my offensive methods a bit too singular?"
"It seems I need to get myself a few skills to use," Meng Ran mused to himself.
Meng Ran then thought of the Crocodile Gang again.
Now, Meng Ran overthrowing the Crocodile Gang was only a matter of time; he no longer needed to make any plans.
Just like today, he would directly push through and decapitate them, and then George would bring the police force to clean up.
Although Meng Ran had the power to overturn them, he did not have the ability to pacify everything afterward.
After removing the major strongholds, if the situation could not be stabilized quickly, it would inevitably lead to even more severe chaos than before the removal.
So Meng Ran needed to take it step by step, also giving George enough time to stabilize the situation.
What Meng Ran wanted was not just to remove these gangs; he also wanted to eradicate the soil that bred crime here.
Otherwise, these gangs would simply be replaced by new ones.
Meng Ran practiced his cultivation technique. He decided not to lie down and sleep today; he wanted to master this newfound power as quickly as possible.
It wasn't until the morning sun shone into the room and Meng Huo called him downstairs for breakfast that Meng Ran stretched and ended his meditation.
Although he hadn't slept all night, his spirit was still full. After a night of cultivation, he felt that the restless sense of power within him had calmed down a lot, and he estimated that two more sessions would allow him to fully master it.