Chapter 117: Delivering a Grand Gift

"Listen, I can give you anything you want!" Kiriyenko, sensing the gravity of the situation, waved his hand at Qiu Fengyu. "Tell me... we can make a deal. Anything at all."

Qiu Fengyu smiled at him. "Go ahead and load these people into the car."

"What?" Kiriyenko feared he had misheard. It was a bizarre request.

"I don't want to say it a second time, Kiriyenko." Qiu Fengyu sighed and pulled out a pistol.

"I'll load them, I'll load them!" Kiriyenko said hurriedly, walking toward the corpses. Qiu Fengyu walked over, gathered the scattered firearms, and watched as Kiriyenko loaded the bodies.

The man was strong, and the task didn't seem to tire him much. While loading the final body, he stumbled alongside it near the car and shouted, "I'm stuck!"

Qiu Fengyu approached, and suddenly, Kiriyenko shoved the corpse hard toward him. As Qiu Fengyu stepped back, Kiriyenko lunged at him.

This was his only chance at survival. Kiriyenko knew that someone like Qiu Fengyu would never let him go. Having already killed so many Russians, he knew this was a fight to the death. To survive, he had to rely on the combat skills he was most confident in. He was a natural-born fighter.

Caught by the sudden lunge, Qiu Fengyu stumbled, nearly falling. Taking advantage, Kiriyenko struck Qiu Fengyu's wrist with a punch, knocking the pistol loose. Qiu Fengyu retreated a few steps before finding his footing.

Qiu Fengyu held up a hand in a "pause" gesture. Clearly, he didn't want to snipe the man; he wanted to settle this with his fists.

Just then, two figures emerged from the nearby brush, approaching from different angles. They held sniper rifles. It was obvious these two had been the ones to pick off the unfortunate Russians.

They were merely here to watch the show. Ryoko Yonekura found a rock and sat down, while Tim watched Qiu Fengyu’s every move with a grin, hoping to learn something.

Qiu Fengyu kicked the pistol away and smiled at Kiriyenko. "If you beat me, I'll let you go."

Kiriyenko sneered. "Are you joking? You'd let me go?"

"Fine, you saw right through me," Qiu Fengyu said. "Win or lose, you're going to die!"

"Pfft!" Ryoko Yonekura couldn't help but burst into laughter. Glancing at Tim, she said, "Is your boss always this funny? He should just become a stand-up comedian."

"No choice, I'm tied to him. So... you know, the reason I'm still alive and well is entirely because my stress tolerance is extremely high," Tim said with an exaggerated expression.

As the two exchanged banter, Qiu Fengyu shook his head, but Kiriyenko stared at him with lethal intensity, searching for any opportunity to strike.

"If you're not going to make a move, Tim, put a bullet in him!" Qiu Fengyu said impatiently to Kiriyenko. "I don't have time to waste here."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Kiriyenko charged like a madman. He had already accepted his fate; he only hoped that if he could restrain Qiu Fengyu, he might take this bastard down with him before he died.

Qiu Fengyu retreated a few steps, leaned back, and lifted a leg, catching Kiriyenko squarely in the stomach. With a loud "thud," Kiriyenko fell face-first into the dirt, knocking out a tooth and filling his mouth with blood.

He didn't scream. He simply climbed back up, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and stared fixedly at Qiu Fengyu.

Qiu Fengyu beckoned him over with a smug smile.

Kiriyenko scrambled up and charged again, each attempt more ferocious than the last, but without exception, every charge ended with him being slammed to the ground, covered in blood, looking increasingly gruesome.

"This guy is like a wounded wild boar," Ryoko Yonekura remarked, curling her lip.

But even a wild boar eventually tires. Finally, after a back throw from Qiu Fengyu, he lay flat on his back and stopped moving. He didn't want to move anymore; he knew he didn't even have a final chance left. This guy was a freak—he hadn't even had the opportunity to throw more than three punches in front of him.

"You lost," Qiu Fengyu said, squatting down to look at him. "Answer me one question."

Kiriyenko cracked a bloody, sinister smile. "I'm dying anyway, why would I answer your question?"

"Well... there is a difference. If you answer, I'll reward you—with a bullet. I guarantee you won't feel any pain. But if you don't answer, I'll torture you, carving your flesh off piece by piece."

"Do you think I'm afraid?" Kiriyenko sneered and spat at Qiu Fengyu, who dodged it easily.

"Fine. I just want to ask you: do your bosses, Kirill Badabov and his accountant, Vasily Antonov, know about this? I just want to be sure. Since you won't cooperate, then... you can wait for them in hell. Maybe you can catch up on old times."

"No, they don't know. They know nothing. I swear, everyone who knows is here. No one else knows, I swear." Hearing Qiu Fengyu say this, Kiriyenko’s face turned ghastly pale. Yes, if he could be taken out by Qiu Fengyu, then his boss could be taken out too, and naturally, Vasily wouldn't escape either.

These three were no ordinary people; they had provoked a powerful enemy. He finally understood why the Russian gangs in San Diego had been wiped out overnight.

"You're too late, pal. Go to hell!" Qiu Fengyu turned, walked a few steps to pick up the dropped pistol, and returned. "Remember to say hello to Satan for me!" He raised his hand and fired, the bullet piercing Kiriyenko's head.

He loaded the body into the car.

"Use the explosives!" Qiu Fengyu said to Ryoko. Ryoko planted timed explosives on the three cars. The trio cleared the scene, left, and drove along the highway toward the coast. Not long after they had pulled away, three consecutive explosions echoed in the distance. It was over.

The stolen cars were pushed into the sea, and all traces were erased. Most of these Russians were undocumented immigrants and gangsters, so the police wouldn't bother investigating. No one would report it, and even if they did, the case would be buried.

"Do you believe him?" Ryoko asked Qiu Fengyu.

The three had booked a room in a motel. It wasn't in a bustling area, so it wouldn't attract attention. The local population was diverse, and Qiu Fengyu and Ryoko’s Asian identities wouldn't raise suspicion.

"I do," Qiu Fengyu smiled. "Soon, Kiriyenko's charred remains will be found, and identifying him will take at least ten days. We have a lot to do in that time."

"So, are we going home?" Tim asked.

"No, we aren't going home. Believing him is one thing, but taking them down is another. Besides... since we've come this far, why not pick up some extra rewards?"

"Extra rewards? You mean the accountant?" Ryoko laughed. "Gangs don't usually put money in banks; they hoard large amounts of cash to keep the cash flow of the casinos and nightclubs they control, and to ensure they can buy any weapons they want."

"Good idea, are we going to rob their vault?" Tim asked with a grin, clearly excited.

Qiu Fengyu nodded. "Yes, that's one of our goals here."

Ryoko looked unfazed, though she raised a question: "If we do it ourselves, we clearly can't swallow that much cash. What do you plan to do?"

"We have partners, so... this will be simple," Qiu Fengyu laughed. "Don't worry, you'll see soon enough."

"Do you not trust me?" Ryoko looked slightly displeased.

"If you really want to know, I can tell you," Qiu Fengyu looked at her and nodded. "At the FBI, I have someone who can help. I'm going to give the credit to him. The Russian mob's drug trafficking, gambling, nightclub operations, and human trafficking—these are all things the FBI wants."

"Fine, I believe you," Ryoko nodded. The intelligence this time had been very accurate, and the FBI contact must have played a major role.

With that in mind, Qiu Fengyu called Davis. Half a day later, Davis arrived at the motel. Opening the door and seeing everyone present, he couldn't help but sigh.

"I really wanted to shoot a few myself," Davis complained.

"You can do things they can't," Qiu Fengyu told him. "For the next few days, we'll be tracking the gang's third-in-command, Vasily Antonov." He pulled up a picture of the man on his phone and showed it to the three. "Memorize his face. I need you to plant a tracker on his phone."

Davis shook his head violently. "Boss, that's not easy. He has so many bodyguards, and... even if you get close to him, how are you going to get his phone?"

"Don't worry about that. You just worry about planting the tracker, and make sure he doesn't find out."

"No problem. As long as I can get a hold of his phone, I can guarantee he'll be completely exposed to us—everything he has will be laid bare." Davis confidently gave Qiu Fengyu the "OK" gesture.

"Then... let's split up," Qiu Fengyu smiled, picked up his phone, and dialed Anthony’s number. "Hey, pal, thanks for the intel. I'm going to send you a big gift."