novelraw Chapter 45: Receive the quest and retrieve money from the backup vault.
Chapter 45: Receive the quest and retrieve money from the backup vault.
Li En thought that even a seasoned veteran like Brock refused to go to the hospital.
He was shot in the chest, the bulletproof vest stopped the bullet, and the impact left his stomach bruised and battered.
Since the police have medical insurance, they don't have to pay too much for medical treatment, so they still won't go.
When asked at the police station if he needed an ambulance, he said it was a small problem and not worth wasting money.
A policeman with 30 years of experience, more senior than the bureau chief, called going to the hospital a waste of money.
Li En didn't want to live like that.
We need to make money.
But Brock had been a police officer for thirty years, was senior enough, and had taken a lot of illicit income.
I still haven't saved much money, and I'm not doing very well.
So how do we make money?
He had no knowledge of finance, and was completely ignorant of politics.
But in one night, he brought back two million from the Razor Gang's hideout.
If you're out of money, just rob a gang.
There are still bounties offered by hotels in mainland China.
The Irish gang leader has 800,000 heads, the Amick Group has 1.2 million, and each completed deal also earns a fixed gold coin.
A single heist can net you millions; it's far more efficient than robbing a police station's salary.
And now we have helpers of Frank's caliber.
Medal of Honor, Navy Cross, veteran of four overseas deployments.
He was able to walk barefoot from the hospital to the police station after being seriously injured and jumping off a building.
He stared at the man opposite him, who had his arms crossed and eyes closed, and made a rough estimate in his mind.
It's very possible that even with my current fighting strength, I might not be able to defeat this person in their full potential.
knock knock.
Frank's eyes snapped open.
Li En stood up, walked to the door, and opened it a crack.
Bright stood in the hallway, carrying a black nylon backpack.
Li En took the backpack and gently shook his head at Bright.
This kid isn't weak in combat, but he's not particularly strong either. It's best not to let him participate in things at night.
Blatt nodded and turned to walk towards the stairs.
Li En closed the door and threw his backpack onto the living room floor in front of Frank.
Frank unzipped his jacket.
Inside was a bulletproof vest, the surface of which was somewhat worn, and the nylon buckles on the shoulder straps were pilling.
The Velcro straps on the sides have been replaced several times, but the bulletproof plate is new.
A pair of combat boots, the treads on the soles still quite worn off, and a tactical belt.
He picked up the bulletproof vest, spread his arms, and held it up in front of him for a few seconds.
"Do you have spray paint?"
"It seems there really is."
Li En walked to the cabinet, squatted down, opened the bottom drawer, rummaged through it, took out a can of white spray paint, walked back and handed it over.
Frank took the spray paint, shook the can, and spread the bulletproof vest on the floor.
He crouched down and pressed the nozzle with his finger.
sizzle.
The spray paint mist layered on the front of the bulletproof vest.
He was spraying a pattern, not just scribbling it on randomly; the start and end points of each stroke were very precise.
A moment later, a white skull was imprinted on the chest of the bulletproof vest.
The outline of the skull, the empty eye sockets, and the slightly open jaw.
He picked up the bulletproof vest, looked at it, put the spray paint can on the ground, and began to put it on.
First, put the bulletproof vest over your shoulders, tighten the Velcro straps on the sides, and then fasten the buckles of the tactical belt one by one.
Finally, I squatted down to tie the laces of my combat boots, tightening each one, knotting them, and tucking the excess laces into the boot uppers.
Li En watched him get dressed.
He wore a black bulletproof vest with a white skull on his chest and carried a shotgun.
I feel like this guy looks familiar.
He searched his mind carefully, and suddenly a game scene appeared.
I played a platformer game in an arcade when I was a kid.
The protagonist is a man wearing a blue-black battle suit with a white skull painted on his chest.
The man on the screen punches, fires, and knocks down a whole row of enemies.
At the end of each level, there is a blood-soaked BOSS waiting to be executed.
The game's name is—The Punisher.
Li En raised her eyebrows slightly.
Is Frank the Punisher?
He had only seen Marvel movies, and the Punisher was not one of them.
But it's in the game.
When I was a kid, I was drawn to the graphics of that game in the arcade.
The pixelated characters with taut muscles, the visceral impact of each punch, and the rifle that can fire continuously.
I remember this game allowed you to choose another character, but it's been so long that my memory is hazy.
He looked at Frank standing there, wearing a skull-patterned bulletproof vest and holding a KSG shotgun, and nodded in satisfaction.
Frank was originally recruited into the police station simply because the precinct's combat capabilities were somewhat weak, and they wanted to have another capable colleague.
And incidentally, to give David a stable living environment.
Unexpectedly, I drew an ace.
"Oh, right."
Li En walked to the cabinet, pulled out the black woolen hat he had used before, and threw it at Frank.
"Of course a masked person has to wear a mask; from now on, you're a police officer in Hell's Kitchen."
Frank caught the hood, bent down and sniffed it, his nose wrinkling.
"Can't I not wear a hood?"
"No, I know you want the enemy to fear your name, but you have to consider David."
Lee En once again brought up David as a reason, a word that always works on Frank.
"How about you come up with a code name?"
"A code name?" Frank said without hesitation.
He turned the hood over and ran his fingers over the three cut holes.
"Punisher".
The Punisher.
He wanted the last thing those gangsters would think of when they heard that name was fear.
When Lee heard the word come out of Frank's mouth, he confirmed it.
The man wearing a skull-patterned bulletproof vest, who had just jumped from the third floor of the hospital and was dragging one barefoot to the police station, was the Punisher.
He turned on his old-fashioned cell phone and found the text message sent by the hotel in mainland China.
The screen displays basic information about the Irish gang leader and the Amick Group.
Name, age, physical characteristics, and places they frequent.
This information is available from publicly available online sources; the mainland hotels have simply compiled it into a basic intelligence package.
If more detailed information is needed regarding the internal layout, the number of security personnel, and the leader's specific schedule, please contact us.
You can either go and investigate the location yourself, or pay with gold coins to buy it.
For Lee En and Frank, this basic information is sufficient.
"Today you'll deal with the Irish gang first. The address is Keener Bar, next to Hudson Yards on West 34th Street."
"However, it's uncertain whether they have a leader present today."
"clear."
Frank picked up the black hood and put it in his pocket, then picked up the shotgun and walked toward the door.
He stopped when he reached the door.
He held the doorknob with one hand, but didn't turn it or turn around.
"You're not going out tonight, are you?"
"Don't worry. David will be safe."
Lee Eun pointed towards the bathroom.
"I'll let David go inside to sleep later."
"Of course, if you feel it's too dangerous, then stay."
Frank's hand gripped the doorknob, tightening and loosening repeatedly on the metal surface.
He hesitated for a moment.
The moonlight from the window shone on the white skull on his chest, casting a small, blurry shadow on the living room floor.
Then he turned the door open.
"Together?"
"No. You go first."
Li En took the keys to the black SUV out of his pocket and tossed them to Frank.
Frank caught it with one hand, didn't turn around, closed the door, and his footsteps sank down the wooden stairs.
Li En walked to the window and watched as the headlights of the black SUV came on, turned out of the alleyway of Clinton Garden, and disappeared at the end of the street.
The hum of the engine grew fainter and fainter.
He has just accepted the task from the Mainland Hotel.
In other words, getting into any vehicle right now will trigger the vehicle killer effect.
The Amick Group building is located on 57th Street, approximately nine kilometers away as the crow flies, but a detour would take twelve kilometers.
Moreover, it was a legitimate company building, not a port warehouse, so you couldn't just rush in through the main entrance and start shooting.
There are police everywhere over there now.
Following the Central Park shootout, patrol cars were stationed outside all businesses associated with gangs.
Making too much noise will get you surrounded.
The best course of action is assassination.
Hopefully, Amick usually lives in the company building.
He turned his head to look towards the bedroom.
"Come out, David."
A small head peeked out from behind the door frame.
When David came out, he was only wearing socks, and his footsteps made no sound on the floor.
"If you had stepped in just now, Frank probably wouldn't have left."
In fact, David had been eavesdropping behind the bedroom door long before Bright delivered the equipment.
If it weren't for Frank's entire being, his mind burning with rage, everything in his head would be incredibly hot.
He could probably hear breathing behind that door.
David walked up to Li En, lowered his head, and remained silent.
"What, aren't you worried?"
"I'm worried." David bit his lip.
"But I also want to punish those gangsters."
He looked up at Li En, and in those light blue eyes, there was a hardness exactly like his father's.
My mother and sister are dead.
He knew who the killer was.
It's not about any one specific person, but about everyone who fired a gun in front of the amusement park.
He wants them to pay the price.
"Come with me."
Li En led him into the bathroom, pushed open the movable wall panel hidden behind the tile grout, and the light strip in the dark room automatically turned on.
The cold white light shone on the photos and red lines on the wall of thought.
The hunter's photo has been removed, leaving only an empty white wall and the tiny pinholes left by rows of thumbtacks.
"Don't worry, they will all be punished. You stay here quietly."
"There's a pistol in the cabinet. The door is on the left, and this is the switch."
He demonstrated to David how to open and close the movable wall panel, then turned and walked out of the dark room.
David stood at the door of the dark room and glanced around at the long, narrow space.
There were several scraps of paper left on the wall, with white marks still stuck to it, suggesting that many things had been pasted there before.
He walked to the cabinet at the end, reached out and opened it, and took out a pistol. It was heavy in his hand, and the barrel was a little cold.
He held the gun in his hand, sat in the chair, and quietly looked in the direction of the entrance to the dark room.
Lee walked on the street outside Clinton Gardens.
The night wind blew from the direction of the Hudson River, swirling plastic bags and fallen leaves along the roadside into small eddies.
He saw a broken skateboard lying next to the trash can.
The board had several cracks, and a small piece of broken plastic cable ties was still hanging on the splinter on the edge, but the four wheels were intact.
Although he accepted the assignment from the mainland hotel, it was a private job and had nothing to do with police work.
Maybe it won't trigger vehicle killer mode?
He walked over and flipped the skateboard over with his toes.
The axle rotates smoothly without any jamming.
He placed the skateboard on the ground, stepped on it with his left foot, and pushed off the ground with his right foot.
The skateboard lurched forward, its wheels making a rolling sound as they rolled across the asphalt.
In the early hours of the morning, there were almost no pedestrians on the streets. Occasionally, one or two drunkards would lean against lampposts and vomit, or thugs would squat at the entrance of alleys and smoke.
He put his right foot on the skateboard, lowered his center of gravity, and the night wind blew past his ears, causing his clothes to flip backward.
The journey went smoothly.
The skateboard was almost falling apart; it creaked every time it went over a crack in the road.
The cracks in the wooden planks are widening, but they are estimated to hold until 57th Street.
If the entry actually takes effect, he's curious about how it will be displayed.
You can't expect a skateboard to explode, can you?
A familiar cool sensation surged up from the soles of my feet.
He was all too familiar with this feeling.
He immediately scanned his surroundings.
Both sides are lined with green belts, and the neatly trimmed shrubs cast patches of shadow under the moonlight.
There were no pedestrians, no vehicles, and no suspicious figures.
Directly ahead is the passageway of the cross-shaped overpass. The bridge deck is very wide, and the piers look very solid.
Reinforced concrete structures cannot collapse...
thump.
A dull metallic clang came from above the overpass.
Li En raised her head.
A car is flipping off the edge of the overpass.
The car was upside down, its four wheels still spinning, and a deep scratch had been made on the roof by the overpass railing, from which sparks were flying.
There was no one in the car.
The driver's side window was closed, and the steering wheel behind the windshield was turning freely.
The car was pushed off the overpass by something.
Li En slammed his right foot off the ground, launching himself off the skateboard and hurtling towards the green belt.
The skateboard continued to slide forward due to inertia, and its wheels rolled into the shadows directly below the overpass.
Boom!
The car crashed onto the skateboard, pressing the skateboard and the asphalt road together into a dent.
The car roof was flattened by its own weight by half a meter, and all the car windows shattered, with shards flying onto the bushes in the green belt.
Crackling sound.
Flames erupted from the engine compartment, spread along the fuel lines to the fuel tank, and then the entire vehicle exploded.
The orange flames suddenly expanded, and the scorching heat blew outwards, blowing Li En's hair back.
Li En stood up from the green belt and looked at the burning ghost car.
There were no drivers, no passengers, and no one looking down from the overpass.
He scanned the edge of the overpass again, but there was no one there.
Boom!
Another explosion rang out, and the flames shot even higher, illuminating the traffic lights at the intersection in bright red.
He brushed the bits of grass and dirt off his clothes and turned to walk toward 57th Street.
Forget it.
During the mission, they kept walking, even using skateboards – it was terrifying.
Moreover, the way this car appeared was very inexplicable.
Where it came from, how it was pushed down, and where the thing that pushed it went—all of this is blank.
This is truly bizarre.
It seems that there really are things like souls, ghosts, and evil spirits in this world.
Could it really be a ghost?
We haven't done anything wrong.
He scratched his head and quickened his pace.
……