Inside a villa somewhere in Birmingham.
The men laying down suppressing fire with submachine guns had already advanced.
Knowing that if he didn't fight back now he would lose any remaining chance, Tommy rolled over and raised his gun, intending to rely on his past combat experience to fight his way out.
What he hadn't anticipated was that in addition to Gatling guns and submachine guns, the enemy had brought along hand grenades.
Watching an overwhelming shower of grenades fly in from outside, Tommy felt for a moment as if he were back in the Great War!
*Boom! Boom! Boom!*
Violent explosions erupted. Tommy felt as though he had been struck by a sledgehammer, flying backward through the air and slamming heavily onto the ground.
Ronald was in an even more miserable state, wailing in agony on the lawn as his leg had been blown clean off.
"Brother Hu, it's clear outside!" the lead gunman shouted toward Han Hu inside the villa, his face fierce and hardened.
Hearing the shout, Han Hu and the others walked out with calm, steady strides.
Dragging Arthur Shelby along, Luca began searching for Tommy.
The moment he spotted Tommy Shelby groaning in agony on the ground, battered and disheveled, Luca kicked Arthur down directly in front of him.
"Tommy!" Arthur cried out desperately, seeing his younger brother's tormented state.
Yet just as Tommy managed to regain some focus, he saw Luca raise his revolver from behind Arthur and pull the trigger.
*Bang!*
Hot blood splattered across Tommy's face. His eyes widened in shock and sheer disbelief.
"I told you I'd blow his brains out right in front of you!" With a crazed expression, Luca aimed his gun at Tommy Shelby once more. "Next, I'm going to send every single member of your family to hell—not one spared!"
"Ahhh!" Tommy glared furiously at Luca, but before his roar could fully escape his throat, a bullet tore through his skull.
Looking down at Tommy's corpse, Luca was about to turn and leave, but Han Hu stepped forward and said, "No, no, no, Luca. That's far too sloppy. It leaves room for error!"
With that, Han Hu repeatedly pulled the trigger, administering the final finishing touches.
Luca stared at Han Hu in shock and bewilderment.
"This is what you call thorough, understand?" Han Hu pointed between his own eyebrows, spreading his hands.
The very first lesson they learned upon joining the group was: leave no loose ends, by any means necessary!
Why had no one dared challenge Gatsby in Brooklyn for so many years? Because they all understood one thing: God might forgive your sins, but the Silver Rock Group never would. They would only riddle you into a hornet's nest and dump you into the Hudson River!
"Fuck! Fuck! I'll kill every last one of you! You bastards!" Ronald screamed hysterically, spittle flying, his face contorted in madness.
Han Hu walked up to Ronald and, without wasting a single breath, raised his gun and pulled the trigger.
Liu Ren had once said something that Han Hu took deeply to heart: a man could live with guilt, but he could never live an entire lifetime with regret!
Whenever you felt a hint of mercy creeping in, don't second-guess yourself—finish the bastard off immediately!
"Han, you killed him? How are we supposed to negotiate with Reginald now?" Luca asked, completely taken aback.
"Negotiate?" Han Hu gave Luca a skeptical look. "Did nobody tell you that while we're lenient with our own people, we never compromise with outside enemies?"
Hearing this, Luca froze. "So what now?"
"That's right. The Kray twins no longer need to exist!" Han Hu patted Luca on the shoulder and turned his head. "Pack it up. We're heading back to London to take care of that idiot!"
***
Inside a resplendent, gilded bar in London.
Reginald had dialed the phone countless times, but no one picked up on the other end.
"Fuck!" Reginald cursed in fury, immediately realizing that something had gone wrong. Even so, he remained relatively calm. Ronald was no fool, and Tommy Shelby surely couldn't be so inept that, even with the reinforcements Reginald had sent, they still couldn't handle Luca Changretta.
Of course, had Liu Ren not dispatched his men, Luca Changretta truly would have had a brutal time—and likely lost his life.
Yet things were different now. Han Hu had crossed the ocean to teach them a lesson: there was no illness a Gatling gun couldn't cure!
And if there was, you swapped it for a Bazooka rocket launcher!
Silver Rock Arms had developed that weapon six months ago, though only the military had purchased it so far.
Still, if a few dozen happened to go missing from the warehouse, nobody would know where they went. After all, Liu Ren was the manufacturer—he could blow up whatever he damn well pleased!
Riding in a sedan escorted by his bodyguards, Reginald headed back toward his villa.
He intended to contact his people in Birmingham to find out what had happened there.
Yet just as the car passed through the bustling streets, two sedans pulled up from behind.
Seeing cars flanking him on both the left and right, Reginald suddenly realized something was terribly wrong.
In the very next second, pitch-black submachine guns were aimed right at him.
"Step on the gas! Run!" Reginald roared hysterically.
*Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!*
A frenzied metal storm shredded through the car windows, instantly riddling Reginald, his driver, and his bodyguards into human honeycombs.
When the people on the street heard the gunfire, they shrieked in terror.
While the crowd scrambled for their lives, one of the hitmen reached back, pulled out a hand grenade, and tossed it into the car—after all, everything required insurance!
*Boom!*
In a tremendous explosion, the car burst into flames.
Speeding away from the scene, the two sedans vanished into the darkness, disappearing without a trace.
***
Half a month later, Brooklyn, New York.
Inside a luxurious manor, Liu Ren tapped his fingers on the desk and asked, "Luca is rebuilding the transport network?"
"Yes, Senior Brother!" Han Hu nodded dutifully.
*Tap, tap, tap!*
Tapping the desk, Liu Ren looked at Han Hu with utter seriousness. "Haven't I told you? During work hours, address me by my title—*zhíwù*! Why do you never get it?"
"Pfft!"
Unable to keep a straight face, A Chao looked at Liu Ren and immediately chimed in, "A Hu, what are you standing there for? He said plant—call him Plant!"
"Plant, Senior Brother!" Han Hu blurted out.
Han Hu had no idea why his senior brother liked having "Plant" tacked on in front, but though bewildered, he respected it. After all, he was his senior brother!
"Quit making trouble!" Liu Ren shot A Chao a look of utter disgust, then said, "Here, take that chest of cash and divide it among the boys. Don't say I'm stingy—twenty grand each..."
Han Hu's eyes went wide with disbelief. "Twenty thousand? That much?"
"Since when have I ever shortchanged you bastards when we're running the streets? Huh? You take fifty thousand—that's extra, just for you!" Liu Ren cuffed Han Hu on the head, speaking in mock annoyance.
"Understood, Plant Senior Brother!" Han Hu grinned and nodded excitedly.
After all, this was 1921. With the depression gradually taking hold, twenty thousand dollars was nearly fifteen years of income for an ordinary person!
Back then, an average annual salary was only around twelve hundred dollars!
Looking at Han Hu's grinning face, Liu Ren immediately added, "When you're off the clock, stay away from strip clubs, you hear me? Find a nice, young girl and settle down!"
"But Plant Senior Brother, don't you go all the time?" Han Hu asked, giving him a suspicious, puzzled look.
"Can you compare yourself to me? I go there to appreciate the fine arts! What do you go there for—don't you know in your own heart?" Liu Ren snapped back, flushed with indignant embarrassment.
His lips twitching, A Chao didn't say a word, turning his head away with a guilty look.
How could the man say that with a straight face? Damn it all, *appreciating art*? That really was quite the cultured answer!
*Liu Ren: Gambling and drugs are my sworn mortal enemies!*
Chapter 52