Chapter One Hundred Sixteen: The Fishing Operation

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However, my three subordinates and those two girls seem to have vanished into thin air. Two days have passed; there should have been some news by now, according to past experience.

Kiriyenko was gradually growing impatient. Over the past few days, he felt as if someone were monitoring him. It was an unsettling sensation.

“There are people from B,” his men reported to him.

It was certain that B had surveillance on his gang. If they didn’t, it would be surprising. Yet, they rarely took direct action against him because of the many conflicts of interest—those politicians served as their cover. As long as they provided a steady income through various legal or illegal means, the arrangement remained stable. Besides, gathering evidence against him was no easy feat.

But in recent days, B’s operatives had been unusually active. It seemed his men had spotted them several times in three different locations. That was unheard of before; they never revealed their identities so openly in front of his people. Had the rules of the game changed?

Those three subordinates were definitely not captured by B’s people, nor by the police. If that had happened, he would have known. The total silence suggested even B’s agents didn’t know the whereabouts of his men and those two girls.

In truth, their location was unknown—at least to others. Eliza and the chubby girl, Lola, were well hidden by Davis. To conceal the two girls, Davis even hacked into Los Angeles’ traffic system, shutting down some cameras along the way. They were like black holes swallowed by the Pacific Ocean.

“The situation is normal…” Ryoko Mikura reported to Qiu Fengyu.

“Everything here is normal, just too many guards,” Tim also briefed Qiu Fengyu.

“Prepare. The fishing operation begins. Head to the place I told you.” Qiu Fengyu sent a few text messages. He randomly stole a car on the street and drove to the outskirts of Los Angeles, beneath an abandoned bridge in a remote area.

After parking the car under the bridge, Qiu Fengyu concealed it carefully. Soon after, Ryoko Mikura and Tim arrived, each driving a stolen vehicle. Hiding the cars was no challenge for them.

“What do we do?” Ryoko Mikura asked. “They are indeed monitored by B, but that means little to me. I can easily shake them off.”

“They won’t pay attention to a sixteen-year-old,” Tim laughed. “That’s my advantage. I can observe how B’s people operate. They’re easy to spot—I can tell them apart. So, with people like them around, this Russian mafia here will never be wiped out.”

“Don’t underestimate them. They have their strengths!” Qiu Fengyu smiled and patted Tim’s shoulder. “Alright, let’s set up now. You two will provide long-range support. They will arrive soon. Learn to disguise yourselves… be careful.” He directed this to Tim, while Ryoko was already experienced and knew her limits.

Tim and Ryoko moved separately. Qiu Fengyu took out a phone—one of the three Russian men’s devices—and switched it on. Then, he sent a message to Kiriyenko.

“We have news!” Kiriyenko suddenly exclaimed loudly in the nightclub’s office. “Send people over. That bastard wants me there personally. Says he has very important information. Also… bring that damned Cole Bros over for the ride.”

A while later, six cars roared out from the nightclub. On the streets, they split—three cars circled the city a few times before one peeled off. After several splits, they left the urban area, heading toward the suburbs.

They quickly shook off B’s surveillance. Over years of dealing with B, they had mastered this technique. In the suburbs, the three cars regrouped; the other three served as decoys against B.

The vehicles stopped beneath the abandoned bridge. Those in the front and rear cars got out, scanning the surroundings. Once satisfied, they waved to the car in the middle.

The door opened, and Kiriyenko stepped out.

Under the bridge, near a pillar, a figure faced away from him, wearing a hooded jumpsuit with hands in pockets, seemingly waiting.

“I’m here, you bastard. What tricks are you playing? Where are those two girls?” Kiriyenko shouted. “Turn around—it’s me.”

The figure slowly turned, smiling at Kiriyenko. “Are you talking to me? Sorry, your three subordinates are already feeding the sharks in the sea.”

The moment the words left his mouth, the Russian men cursed, drawing their guns. Some grabbed automatic rifles from the cars.

“That’s Fengyu Qiu!” Cole shouted excitedly, running up to Kiriyenko. “He’s Qiu—the bastard. I told you, he’s here.”

Qiu Fengyu smiled at him and made a slitting-throat gesture.

The action made Cole step back involuntarily, but Kiriyenko grabbed his collar and glared at Qiu Fengyu. “I heard you wiped out a Russian gang in San Diego.”

“Did Cole tell you that?” Qiu Fengyu looked coldly at him. “He has a reason to hate me—he fears me because I humiliated him. That’s normal. Do you hate me just because of his words?”

“Whether I hate you or not, you’re out of options now.” Kiriyenko spread his arms and laughed. “You killed my men and still think I’ll let you go? Regardless of your ties with that gang?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Unless you hand over those two girls. They can still save your life. Our nightclub, along with some Middle Eastern friends with particular tastes, likes authentic American girls,” Kiriyenko’s smile turned cold. “My time is limited. If you don’t hand over the girls within five minutes, I’ll start cutting off your fingers—one every minute. Now… start making calls.”

Kiriyenko’s gaze was as cold as a blade. Even Cole stepped back, visibly afraid to be near Kiriyenko.

“Are you sure about this?” Qiu Fengyu repeated.

“Damn it, didn’t you hear me?” Kiriyenko roared, nearly shouting. “Don’t test my patience, buddy. I’ll make you wish you were dead. Now—hand over—the two girls.” He enunciated each word with force and then signaled three Russians to rush forward. They raised guns at Qiu Fengyu; one held handcuffs.

One bald man had just taken a few steps when suddenly his head tilted sideways, and a spray of blood erupted from it. He collapsed forward onto the ground.

Before the others could react, two more were shot and fell. The sudden turn of events stunned the Russians; none dared move, unsure where the bullets came from.

Of the three downed, two were hit by shots fired from the side, and one from behind.

Kiriyenko dared not act rashly. He wasn’t a reckless man. He knew that if he made a wrong move, the next bullet would be his. This man had arranged snipers.

The scene fell into a deathly silence.

Qiu Fengyu remained still, coldly staring at Kiriyenko. Kiriyenko felt cold sweat breaking out along his spine. He had never been this afraid before. Gang wars were dangerous, but this pressure was unlike any other—like being targeted by death itself.

“Alright, alright, what conditions do you want to discuss? But you know the consequences of crossing me. The Russians control half of Los Angeles’ underworld…”

Suddenly, muffled pops rang out—several men fell one after another, unable to react. Even one hiding behind a car door was pierced through the metal and killed.

In just a few seconds, seven Russian thugs were hit. They didn’t even know where to retaliate and collapsed one by one. Only three remained: Qiu Fengyu, Kiriyenko, and Cole.

Cole’s legs trembled violently; he felt a hot liquid running down his leg. His face drained of color, as if the apocalypse had arrived. He already regretted everything and wished to bang his head against the wall.

“Alright, alright, I agree. Whatever you say, I agree!” Kiriyenko shouted to Qiu Fengyu. “Just make them stop. I’ll agree to anything.”

“I’ll give you two choices: either kill Cole and then kill yourself, or just kill yourself outright. Which one do you choose?” Qiu Fengyu smiled.

Kiriyenko’s face flushed deep red—no way out. He held his breath and shouted, “I’ll kill you first!” Pulling out a gun from his jacket, he aimed at Qiu Fengyu.

A dull pop rang out. His hand was shot, and the gun fell to the ground. Kiriyenko screamed wildly, clutching his shattered palm.

“Qiu, forgive me, forgive me… I only wanted to teach you a lesson… I didn’t mean to…” Cole knelt on the ground, shouting as Qiu Fengyu approached step by step.

“I’d like to forgive you, Cole, but you shouldn’t have threatened me with the townspeople, putting them in danger. So… ask Satan for forgiveness.” Qiu Fengyu said as he grabbed Cole’s neck with both hands and twisted sharply. A crack echoed as bones shattered.

Cole’s lifeless body collapsed forward onto the ground.

(To be continued.)