The boss laughed heartily, his voice echoing in the cramped underground room, deep and hoarse, like the sound of an old engine starting up.
“Hahaha!” He set down his glass, wiped the wine from the corner of his mouth, and a glint of mockery shone in his eyes. “Damn, this is the first time I’ve seen someone brave enough to come in here and speak so loudly. You really don’t fear for your life, do you, Old Buddy?”
Carter remained silent, standing still and watching him quietly.
At that moment, the atmosphere in the room shifted.
The few underlings who had been cleaning their guns suddenly halted their movements almost simultaneously. Barrels, magazines, triggers… all were laid on the table, lying silently like a row of predatory tools waiting for orders.
Carter noticed this detail.
His muscles instinctively tensed. His heartbeat remained steady, but his mind began calculating the potential scenarios—this was a premeditated black-on-black operation.
They wanted to take him out.
The reason was simple—he was buying a large number of firearms with enough cash but without bringing anyone along. To them, this signified “a sum that could be pocketed directly,” and more importantly, it meant he was wealthy and worth killing.
These scumbags had never been reliable black market dealers; they were merely a bunch of money-hungry parasites ready to pounce on any fat sheep.
Carter tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over each person. The underlings had quietly moved their hands closer to their weapons. The guns were within reach; at a word from the boss, they would draw and fire at him.
Unfortunately for them, they had made one critical mistake—
—the only predator here was not them.
Carter slowly curled his lips into a sardonic smile.
He looked at the boss sitting in the chair, his tone calm and unhurried, as if he were telling a joke. "It seems... you want to rob me?"
His voice was deep and slow, yet carried a chilling sense of composure.
The smile on his face and the tone of his voice made everyone in the room furrow their brows slightly.
The boss's smile faded a bit, as if weighing whether this man was too foolish to fear death or if he simply didn’t regard them at all.
"So what?" The boss remained lazily leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly tapping on the table. "The rules here are—your money is yours, my gun is mine, and now, your head is also mine."
Carter's movements were faster than lightning, like a beast that had been waiting to pounce on its prey.
Before the lackeys could react, he had already darted behind the boss, the cold blade glinting—his knife was drawn with a swift motion, its edge pressed against the boss's neck.
The blade was against the skin, the cold metal radiating an icy chill; with just a slight pressure, it could slice through flesh and send blood gushing forth.
"Damn!" The lackeys in the room immediately fell into chaos. Chairs toppled over, guns on the table clattered together, and everyone almost simultaneously drew their weapons, their dark muzzles all aimed at Carter.
But no one dared to pull the trigger.
Because Carter's knife was pressed tightly against the boss's carotid artery; it was a military-grade tactical knife, incredibly sharp. A mere flick could send the boss's blood spraying everywhere.
The boss raised his hands in fright, tilting his neck back slightly to avoid being cut by the blade. His voice trembled as he whispered, "Calm down, calm down..."
The arrogance on his face was instantly replaced by fear; his eyes widened in shock, and cold sweat began to bead on his forehead.
Carter stood behind him, his arm wrapped around the boss's neck, the hand holding the knife firmly pressed against his skin. His gaze was cold and merciless, like a soldier accustomed to death on the battlefield—without a hint of hesitation.
The young men held their guns, the tension in the air reaching a breaking point, thick with the smell of gunpowder. Everyone was waiting; a single spark or a wrong move could turn this transaction into a massacre.
Carter surveyed the surroundings, a cold smile creeping onto his lips, devoid of warmth. His voice was low and chilling: "I wouldn't mind killing all of you and taking these goods for a zero-cost purchase."
His tone was as casual as discussing the weather, unsettlingly calm.
The leader gasped, swallowing hard as he trembled. He knew very well that the man before him was not joking—this was not the kind of prey that could be intimidated into submission. He was a wolf, someone who would not hesitate to kill.
Everyone in the room held their breath, fingers tightly gripping the triggers. It was a silent standoff—
If the leader gave the order, gunfire would erupt, but at the same time, his throat would be slit in an instant, leaving him dismembered.
Time seemed to freeze for a few seconds before the leader's voice trembled and strained: "...What do you want?"
Carter pressed slightly harder, the blade piercing just enough to break the skin, a bead of blood oozing out. The leader gasped, his body stiffening in fear.
Carter whispered, "The deal—just like we agreed at the beginning."
"Otherwise—"
"None of you will leave this place alive."
The leader nervously swallowed again, cold sweat trickling down his temples.
He understood clearly that the man standing behind him was not just a madman; he was a true killing machine.
Carter's hand firmly pressed against his neck, the blade cold against his skin, already drawing blood. With even the slightest movement, blood would gush forth like a fountain.
At that moment, he felt as if Death had its grip around his throat.
But the boss was no ordinary street thug; he was a man who had clawed his way up in the underworld for over a decade, ruthless and cunning. He could not simply yield like this.
He began to weigh the pros and cons.
Carter was indeed formidable, his speed in combat frighteningly quick. The earlier strike had caught everyone off guard, but…
There were six of them here, while Carter stood alone.
Although Carter had him in a chokehold now, as soon as his subordinates charged in, even if Carter managed to take down a few, he would ultimately be overwhelmed and shot down.
“He’s not a god; he only has one knife, while we have guns.”
The boss's gaze swept over his men. He saw some gripping their AK-47s tightly, others discreetly reaching for their handguns. Everyone was waiting for his signal.
A cold smile crept into his heart. No matter how skilled this guy was, he was still just one person. How long could he survive in a hail of bullets?
“First, keep him steady. Then hit him hard—let’s make sure this annoying bastard has no chance of escape.”
The boss quickly made his decision. He suppressed the fear within him and put on an act of compliance, ready to stabilize Carter before finding an opportunity to counterattack.
Slowly, he raised both hands, forcing down the tremor in his voice and squeezing out a stiff smile. “Brother, let’s stay calm and talk this through… We’re just doing business here; there’s no need for knives or guns, right?”
Carter remained silent, his gaze still as cold as iron.
The boss continued, “Whatever goods you want, we can provide. The price is negotiable—really, don’t act impulsively…”
He spoke in a gentle tone, but his eyes were secretly exchanging signals with a few of his underlings—
Get ready to act.
As soon as he found the opportunity, he would make sure this bastard paid dearly.
The smile on the leader's face froze. He raised his hands, feigning ease, but his back was already soaked with cold sweat.
He could feel the blade at his neck shift slightly, allowing him to finally take a breath, but the suffocating fear of death still lingered.
The voice behind him remained cold, like a whisper from hell: "Hurry up and bring me what I want."
The leader struggled to make his voice sound more soothing: "Of course, of course. We’re in business; we value honesty above all..."
His gaze subtly scanned the surroundings. A few of his underlings were ready; if he could just stall for a few more seconds, they would find an opportunity to open fire.
So, he continued to feign helplessness, trying to ease the tension: "But... before we finalize the deal, could you please put down the knife? The pressure is really getting to me."
He even forced a bitter smile, as if joking, attempting to lighten the mood.
But—
The man behind him remained unmoved.
The air thickened for a few seconds as everyone waited for Carter's reaction.
Then, Carter spoke.
The tone remained cold, but it was deeper than before, carrying an unshakeable determination.
"I've changed my mind."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Carter suddenly grabbed the leader's shoulder. The knife in his hand surged with force, the blade gliding across the neck.
"Thud—!"
Blood gushed forth!
The leader didn't even have time to scream; his throat was already cut open, the trachea and carotid artery severed in an instant. Blood erupted like a fountain, his eyes widened in shock as he opened his mouth to speak, but only managed to produce a rasping sound mixed with blood.
He clutched at his neck, desperately trying to stop the impossible flow of blood, trembling as he fell to his knees.
In that moment, everyone in the room was frozen.
No one had expected that Carter had no intention of negotiating with them; his plan from the very beginning was to kill this leader!
"Bang!"
An AK-47 on the table was knocked over by a panicked underling, producing a dull thud that sounded like it had triggered some invisible fuse—
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