I'm building Gundams in America

Chapter 468 Police and Criminals in Harm's Clothing (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

Sophia recognized most of the Russian gang members who came to the street corner.

Many of them were once his father Nikolai's trusted confidants and favorites.

Now, these people have completely betrayed Nikolai and become Andrei's henchmen!

Sofia took out a scarf and covered half of her face, leaving only her icy blue eyes exposed. She opened her handbag, reached inside, grabbed a pistol, and stared intently at the people at the street corner.

She carefully concealed herself behind a tent, ready to engage in a fierce battle at any moment.

Although Wayne possesses the so-called miraculous power to exorcise evil and bestow blessings, this power is clearly ineffective against bullets.

Aside from her father and Andrei, no one knew the Russian mafia in Los Angeles better than Sofia.

The Russian mafia operates on an upper-class model, avoiding street conflicts and focusing instead on controlling arms and organ trafficking, illicit investments, and employing a lean, elite-arms policy.

Therefore, these Russian mafia members are extremely powerful and are no match for Wayne's men, who are clearly homeless.

Only a handful of fully armed bodyguards could hold their own against the Russian gang's thugs.

Looking at the tent where Wayne was, Sophia gritted her teeth. If all else failed, she would escape alone to avoid becoming a burden to him.

In the past, she would have definitely tried her best to use Wayne, but after seeing the miraculous power he displayed in the tent, Sophia suddenly thought of the legend of the "Holy Fool," which made her feel a sense of awe.

If she could escape back to Moscow, she could use her family's connections in the government and military to raise another force.

Just then, the standoff at the intersection reached a fever pitch. Led by Rod, several members of the Saints Gang moved some old sofas and cabinets to make cover, and with bulletproof vests, they set up guns behind them, aiming at the dozens of Russian mafia members.

Remi and several Yakuts and Buryats were also armed and on guard, ready to engage in a fierce conflict at any moment.

Upon seeing the gun barrel, the Russian gang members immediately ducked behind the car and began cursing.

"Sukabrye!" a leader of the Russian gang cursed, clearly not expecting these down-on-their-luck vagrants to dare to resist. "You filthy bastards, how dare you defy the Russian mafia! Hand over Sofia now, or the consequences will be far beyond your control!"

Remy roared, "Gregory! You fucking bastard! Mr. Nikolai saved your life, and this is how you repay him? You fucking beast! Get that bastard Andrei over here, I'm going to smash his head in!"

Gregory sneered and said, "I thought it was someone else, but it's that damn Remy—you bastard from the Caucasus Mountains, what, Nikolai is dead, and you still consider that little wench Sophia your master?"

"I advise you to hand over Sophia now, or you'll always be nothing more than a dog!"

"You street wretches, this is an ultimatum from the Russian mafia: hand over Sofia, or you will face a war you cannot afford!"

"Bring out your leader! I know his name is Bruce Wayne!"

Rhodes snorted and suddenly pulled back the bolt, causing Gregory to immediately duck his head back into the gun.

Just then, Wayne lifted the tent flap and came out.

He strolled leisurely to the street corner, carrying a stick wrapped in a black cloth.

"Sir, please be careful," Rod said, frowning. "These Russians have no morals whatsoever; they love betrayal."

As he spoke, he glanced deeply at Remy and the others not far away, his eyes filled with distrust.

Wayne waved his hand to indicate that it was alright, then stepped out of the cover at the street corner and approached the Russian gang members, saying, "I am Bruce Wayne. Is Mr. Andrei here? I need to speak with him."

Upon hearing this, Remy and Sophia, who were standing nearby, widened their eyes, wondering if Wayne was going to sell them directly to Andrei.

Otherwise, what's the point of talking to Andrei?

The Russian gang on the other side looked delighted. After whispering among themselves for a while, Grigory made a phone call and said a few words.

Soon, an armored car roared up from the end of the street and arrived.

The car door opened, and Andrei poked half his head out of the window, saying to Wayne, "Mr. Wayne, I'm Andrei. I think we can talk in the car if you're sincere enough."

He was able to take down Nikolai and seize control of the entire Russian clique because of his intelligence; he was never a brute.

Wayne nodded, walked straight to the car, and got inside.

Andrei looked at Wayne, narrowed his eyes, and slowly said, "Speak, Mr. Wayne, how can you hand over the Russian Mafia traitors to me? You can name your terms."

Instead of answering his question, Wayne asked, "Mr. Andrei, how many of you are there?"

Upon hearing this, Andrei narrowed his eyes and said, "The entire Russian Mafia has a thousand members in the greater Los Angeles area, but they are all elites. We are all dead souls betrayed and abandoned by Putin. Mr. Wayne, please believe in our methods."

"I've investigated you. I know you have some connections in Seattle, but this is Los Angeles. You shouldn't be here, Mr. Wayne. I hope you're a wise man—"

A thousand men—Wayne raised an eyebrow, mentally estimating the enemy's true strength.

He nodded, opened the car door, turned around, got out, and left.

This scene completely stunned Andrei.

He frowned in the car, and anger flashed in his eyes.

Gregory, standing nearby, shouted at Wayne's retreating figure, "Hey, Wayne! What do you mean by this?!"

The other party proposed negotiations and even called Andrei over, but unexpectedly, he only asked one question after getting into the car and then left.

It's obvious they're just playing with Andrei!

"Boss, should we shoot him? Let this arrogant bastard understand that the dignity of our Russian gang cannot be offended—" Grigory said with a ferocious expression.

That's absolutely infuriating.

Andrei squinted and shook his head slightly, saying, "You can't do that during negotiations—but tonight he has no choice—let's go!"

He had a feeling that the other party was up to something, but he couldn't figure out where the trap was. He just wanted to leave as soon as possible and get rid of that unease.

As they spoke, the doors of the bulletproof limousine were closed, and the Russian gang members got into the car, started the engine, and drove off.

Andrei picked up his phone and dialed a number.

The call was quickly connected, and Andrei said in a deep voice, "Sheriff Cyril, it's me."

After a few seconds of silence, a somewhat hoarse voice finally came from the other end: "Mr. Andrei, I've heard about the Russian gang. You've made a bit too much of a fuss. If the FBI gets involved, we're all finished—"

Andrei snorted and said, "No, Sheriff Cyril, rest assured. We have our own friends who can handle these matters. You will soon understand. As our Russian proverb says, trust, but verify."

"Please rest assured, even though Nikolai is gone, our agreement remains valid, and the amount will increase by ten percent. Of course, I also need some of your help now."

Hearing that the protection money paid by the other party had not only not been cancelled, but had actually increased, Cyril seemed very satisfied and immediately said, "I..."

"Of course, Mr. Andre, it is my duty to serve as a good citizen."

Andrei immediately said, "I think you should have heard of a guy named Bruce Wayne who calls himself a street saint. He's organized a group of people in Poor Street and they're entrenched on a street in the east of Poor Street. I need you to lead the team to drive them away—drive them out of Poor Street."

Once he gets these guys out of the slums, he has plenty of ways to get them out of there.

Cyril's voice instantly lowered, and he said, "Tsk tsk, Mr. Andre, as the sheriff of the Central Precinct of the Los Angeles Police Department, of course I know this Wayne—"

'

"I already knew about him on his first day in the poor streets of Los Angeles—my informant on the street told me that this Wayne had even started some kind of church, a church for homeless people."

"Do you know how many calls the entire Central Precinct receives throughout the year? More than 9! That's an average of 300 calls per day! The entire Poor Street precinct accounts for half of those calls, at least 150 per day."

"Guess what? Since Wayne arrived, the number of police calls in the poor neighborhood has plummeted in the past few days, almost by half, especially in the streets where his church is located, there have been zero calls. I wish I could worship him as a real saint."

Andrei frowned and said, "So, Sheriff Cyril, our cooperation is coming to an end?"

"No," Cyril's voice was firm, "What I mean is, facing such a saint, you want me to send officers to drive him away? As a police officer, I simply cannot bear to do it—"

"You'll have to pay more."