CHAPTER 130: 64 STANDING CREATURES WON’T LIVE, SO KNEEL!

There are two middle-aged men in suits pitching to clients in the venue.

On the left side of the iron gate, there’s a two-story building. The first floor is a trading hall, with only a fifty-year-old obese Latina woman present.

She is the accountant, looking at a computer behind the desk.

Opposite her, two large Latino men with tattoos are sitting on chairs reading magazines.

I stopped the car, and a middle-aged white man walked over from the open ground, wearing a work badge with his name and position displayed on his chest.

"Hi, are you here to see the car?"

The middle-aged man approached with a professional smile.

As he got within two meters of me, Kelly stepped forward, blocking his path.

She turned her body, pulling up her T-shirt, revealing a gun handle.

"Damn it!" The middle-aged man retreated two steps, turned, and left.

"SHIT!" Mia glared at Kelly, "Is this your way?"

I said nothing and headed toward the building.

Kelly spread her hands at Mia, shrugging helplessly, "I just didn’t want to waste time with him!"

Entering the hall, I approached the desk, gently tapping the tabletop.

"If you want to see the car, please contact the sales manager outside. I’m in charge of contracts and payments."

The Latina woman did not look up but continued watching her computer monitor with interest.

"Is Farrell in?"

"Sorry, do you have an appointment?" The woman raised her head and looked at me for two seconds.

"No!"

"Then I’m sorry, I can’t answer your question." The woman resumed looking at the monitor.

The two Latino men next to her put down their magazines and stood up.

Before they could ask, Kelly acted, like an agile leopard, bridging a 3M distance to within 1M in a flash!

A spinning back kick, a Taekwondo move, also a difficult attack to defend against in mixed martial arts, combines the full power of the body in motion, with the left leg as the pivot, delivering a deadly blow with the right leg. Even men with strong resistance find it hard when struck in the abdomen.

But there’s a prerequisite, which is timing!

Taekwondo is more of a performance fighting skill, unsuitable for combat. The spinning side kick and high kicks similar to those of Jean-Claude Van Damme have fatal weaknesses, such as attack power and wind-up time. Opponents aren’t targets; they won’t give you prep time.

Moreover, kicking too high weakens the support point, making it easy to lose balance, and when faced with grappling techniques, one can be subdued instantly.

But Kelly had plenty of time; she launched a surprise attack.

Kelly’s right leg kick wasn’t high, targeting the groin rather than the stomach.

When the Venezuelan beauty’s body formed a T-shape, her right leg struck the opponent’s groin.

The Latino man’s eyes widened, feeling as if his whole body was torn apart, recoiling to a chair behind him, eyes closed, frothing at the mouth, he fainted.

"WHAT?"

Seeing his companion fall, the other man’s face showed shock, not expecting a woman to cause trouble.

His right hand reflexively formed a fist, aiming at Kelly’s head.

The nearby blonde beauty Ella smiled, reaching out to grab the man’s arm. She stepped back with her left leg, kicking his ankle with her right.

Bang!

The man lost his balance.

Ella pressed the man’s neck down forcefully with her right hand.

Bang.

The man hit the floor face-first, bleeding from his nose, his head dizzy; as he tried to brace himself, a shadow struck him from the side.

Ella lifted her right leg again, kicking the man under the chin.

Bang!

The man flipped onto his back, lying motionless.

"FUCK." Mia stared in surprise; these two women exuded a predator aura. "Sistema?" Mia recognized the fighting skill Ella used.

The other woman was like her, versed in Israeli Maga.

Maga Skill is an Israeli military fighting skill aimed at killing the opponent.

During her deployment, Mia had learned from Israeli soldiers.

Sistema is a Russian military fighting skill, suitable for women or those with a lighter frame, as it focuses more on disrupting the opponent’s balance to suppress them, and this technique can also be combined with indoor CQB.

"Uh-huh!" Ella smiled at Kelly in response to her question.

"Where did these two women come from?"

"My employees!"

"FUCK! Do you expect me to believe that?" Mia looked incredulous, employees?

These are hitwomen!

"They’re my employees, helping me manage the club!"

"The club? GOD, how much are you hiding?"

Mia glared at me.

I grinned, showing teeth at the Latina woman behind the desk, "Can you tell me where Farrell is?"

"Sir, this is private property." The Latina woman showed no fear, knowing this was a crime group. "If you intend to cause trouble, I’ll call 911!"

I drew my Glock 18 and placed it on the desk, "WHAT? Can you repeat that?"

Mia held her forehead, oh God, what are you doing?

"The boss is upstairs!" The Latina woman pointed at the ceiling.

I maintained my smile, putting away the gun, "You’re a smart woman."

The Latina woman nodded, "I won’t call the police."

I smiled satisfactorily, bowing slightly, "Thank you!"

Mia widened her eyes, staring at my back. "My god! You’re like an elegant suit-clad thug now."

I went up the stairs with Ella and Kelly, Mia sighed, taking a deep breath, following behind me.

The second floor was Farrell’s office in the far left corner, visible from the staircase. A middle-aged bald man sat behind a desk, caressing the leg of a female secretary on the table.

The office area on the second floor was spacious, with just a few sofas where three thugs sat.

On the other side, two more Latino men drank beer and watched soccer in front of a TV.

As I ascended, Farrell scrutinized me.

At the staircase, a tall young man in black shorts and a T-shirt smiled broadly at the scene inside.

"Hi, who are you?"

The thug on the sofa looked at me displeased, "No entry here."

I didn’t answer his question but looked at Farrell, "Are you the boss?"

Farrell paused his caresses, his expression turning solemn, "Who are you?"

"You’re right!"

My smile expressed provocation and anger to everyone.

"Hey!" The five Latino men around me stood up, facing in my direction.

Kelly and Ella drew their pistols.

Fack!

The scene changed dramatically, the Latino men froze, the female secretary cowered in a corner, Farrell glared at me furiously.

"Do you know what you’re doing?"

Mia speechlessly drew her pistol, aiming at the surrounding thugs, "Don’t move!"

"Careful! Man, what do you want? I only have 100,000 in cash! If you need it, take the money and leave." Farrell assumed I was there to rob him.

I showed my gleaming teeth, smiling, scanning the room.

A Latino near the TV eyed me, slowly moving his hand towards a hidden M930 shotgun under the TV cabinet.

Bang, Ella shot at the TV cabinet with a smile, shaking her head, "No."

Damn it, Farrell’s face darkened; they had three guns, four people, his men couldn’t act.

In a second, I drew my pistol, fired as I raised it, pulling the trigger.

Bang bang!

Two bullets pierced the man in the middle of the sofa.

Both shots hit his chest, blood splattering around!

Fack!

Everyone stared at me in horror. I killed without any motive, without any preface, without any hesitation.

"Who exactly are you? What do you want?"

I stood in the middle of the second floor, "You have ten seconds. After ten seconds, anyone standing will be killed by me."

WHAT?

Farrell and his men stared at my face, filled with rage and shame.

"SO!"

My voice rose again, capturing everyone’s attention.

My smile resembled a devil’s smirk.

"Kneel down!"