Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

"Are you writing a letter?" Zhang Renfeng then noticed the letter in the girl's hand.

“Of course, I should have gone back a long time ago, but the plans changed and I’ve been staying for so many days. I should let my family know I’m safe.” Xiaomei rolled her eyes at him and pulled another stack of letters from her pocket. “Mr. Igor wrote to ask about it. I wrote down what happened these past few days and wrote back to him.”

"I'm sorry," Trist said, her voice filled with guilt. "It's all because of me. I've caused you all so much trouble, I..."

"No." Zhang Renfeng waved his hand, indicating that she didn't need to say anything more. "Things have come to this point, and it's no longer just your business. Besides, my grudge with my senior brother is not yet settled, so it's impossible for me to go back."

“Yes.” Theon crossed his arms and nodded expressionlessly. “Killing that Angelo was just a side thing.”

"After this underground boxing match, then..."

Halfway through his speech, Zhang Renfeng's expression suddenly changed, and he subconsciously stood to the side, adopting a fighting stance.

The chief, who reacted just as quickly as he did, sensed the other's location a step ahead by the smell of alcohol carried on the wind.

"Ha...hahaha...wonderful, wonderful! You're all gathered here, yellow barbarians, red barbarians, and a young woman with wolf claw marks on her face. It must be you, right?"

Calaway staggered along the mountain path, looking as if he might fall at any moment.

"Who are you?" Zhang Renfeng asked in a low voice, "What do you want?"

"Me? A nobody... an insignificant nobody. I mean, if I were some great person, at this age, someone should be writing a biography about me or something, right? Unfortunately, no, and my name isn't on the 'Gun God Series' cigarette cards from Red Apple cigarettes, so... I guess I really am just a drunkard, haha..."

Calaway, spouting nonsensical nonsense, suddenly widened his eyes and said, "You're the ones who ruined Angelo's bootlegging business, aren't you?"

Without further hesitation, Zhang Renfeng immediately drew his gun.

"boom----!!"

The moment his fingers touched the handle of the volcano pistol, a bullet grazed his temple and pierced the wooden wall of the house behind him.

"..."

Zhang Renfeng's pupils narrowed slightly.

Left hand?!

This old man... drew his gun with his left hand?

So fast!

This was the first time he had encountered such a fast gunman. Within 0.03 seconds, the bullet had already been fired. For the first time, Zhang Renfeng was a step too slow and failed to see through his movements!

----

"Tsk tsk tsk... Don't get excited, young man, I have no hostility." Calaway revealed a somewhat sinister smile, pointing the gun upwards to avoid accidental firing, and then performed a super stylish gunfight before putting it back on his belt. "These past few days, you've turned this city upside down. I've never seen anyone like you before."

"Mayor Mason is very interested in you. I'm here on his behalf to discuss a deal with you... Wait a minute..."

Calaway's tone suddenly changed, and he exclaimed in surprise, "Theon Mislandir?! What the hell are you doing here?!"

Chapter 233: This is a strategy of using one tiger to devour another.

"You know them?" Zhang Renfeng raised an eyebrow.

“…No, he used to be my customer.” Theon’s lips twitched, as if recalling some unpleasant experience, and he introduced, “‘Little Rascal Calaway’, at least that’s what he was called when I last saw him. Legend has it that he could draw his gun incredibly fast and had won more than sixty cowboy duels. But some people say that he was a treacherous villain who liked to shoot people in the back.”

"Anyway, all I know is that his pursuit of revolver engravings...reached a maddening level."

"Hahahaha! Theon? It really is you!" Calaway laughed again, marveling at how small the world was, and drew his revolver once more.

This time, however, the gun wasn't pointed at anyone. Instead, he waved the barrel in front of Zhang Renfeng and said in a boastful tone, "Look at this exquisite design—a rose and a skull, a romantic Grim Reaper! Only you could carve such intricate patterns on a gun barrel without affecting the feel of the weapon!"

"Mr. Theon, you still do this kind of business?" Xiaomei asked, somewhat surprised.

"Most customers don't make such unreasonable requests." Even a hardworking and conscientious client like Theon was deeply impressed by him, which shows just how complicated Carloway's demands were.

Regardless, this connection eased the tension somewhat. Zhang Renfeng was certain of only one thing: at least for now, he genuinely harbored no hostility towards Zhang's group; otherwise, he would have simply opened fire upon meeting them. That shot was merely a deterrent. In the West, where killing was as easy as snapping a finger, this level of vigilance was quite normal.

"You're working with him now?" Calaway asked, sounding very curious.

“No,” Theon corrected very formally, “I’m with him now, he’s my boss.”

“Wow… this is really…” Calaway’s gaze toward Zhang Renfeng held a deeper meaning. “Unexpected. Welcome to the West, Theon Mislandil. Although the era of the West is coming to an end, your taste is still pretty good. You’ve found a man with great character.”

"Well, since we all know each other so well, stop pretending to be an innocent young man, young man, the leader of this unknown gang..."

"How about we seriously consider my suggestion?"

“The so-called ‘driving away the wolf to devour the tiger’,” Zhang Renfeng had already seen through his intentions. “You want us to deal with Angelo Panstore, right?”

“That’s right, we used you as pawns.” Calaway nodded, acknowledging it with great magnanimity. “You beat up his men, robbed his casino, and ruined his bootlegging business. The feud has been brewing for a long time.”

"Do you think Angelo is the kind of person who would swallow his pride and endure a loss?"

----

"This cannot be tolerated! Absolutely cannot be tolerated!"

Guido straightened his neck, downed the entire glass of wine, his face instantly turning red, and his hands became rough and clumsy.

The others in the tavern, knowing he was one of Angelo's subordinates, didn't dare say much. Those who were afraid of trouble quickly paid their bills and left. Even the gang members hesitated to approach—they knew from experience that Guido in this state was at his most terrifying and ruthless.

When he was upset outside, he would drink to drown his sorrows, but often the sorrow would not dissipate and would be replaced by anger, making him even more terrifying. Anyone who offended him, whether they were on his side or not, he would draw his gun and kill. After all, he was Angelo's most trusted confidant, and with Clementa retiring behind the scenes, he was the youngest core member of the Italian gang.

They don't care about one or two lives at all.

Only Red-haired Charles, who was also a cadre, dared to sit opposite him and drink with him.

That being said, Charles's glass remained untouched; he didn't drink, but simply kept an eye on him to prevent Guido from committing another violent act like murder.

"That damn thing... just because he's wearing a sheriff's coattails, we don't dare touch him. He's so arrogant!" Recalling the humiliation he suffered in the office, Guido grew angrier the more he thought about it. "The day he's alone, I'll be the first to chop his head off, and nobody can take it from me!"

"We can't touch this, we can't touch that, what the hell? We've been living in this city for so long, when have we ever suffered such injustice?!"

“Calm down,” Charles said in a deep voice. “Callowy is the mayor’s man, and what he says, to some extent, represents Mayor Mason’s opinion. Since he has said so, let’s report this to Mr. Angelo and let him decide how to handle it.”

"Ha, Mayor. Give him some face, call him Mayor." Guido's tone grew increasingly sinister. "If you don't give him face, I'll bury him!"

"..." Charles looked at him quietly, feeling quite helpless.

This guy is hopeless.

Guido's gang life in the previous years had been too smooth, and his mind was gradually distorted by alcohol, violence, and women. He began to lose sight of how the real world was constructed.

He actually believed that Mr. Angelo was the local tyrant of the city, who could do whatever he wanted without a care in the world.

The domineering and tyrannical nature of gangs is, to a large extent, only directed at the lower classes.

Facing Mayor Mason, who was at the center of the power structure, Angelo dared not act rashly. His approach was to maintain a relatively mild stance, slowly but surely winning over the mayor's subordinates. Both sides maintained a tacit understanding, with neither willing to make the first move.

Now, Guido is like a porcupine in heat after a good meal, ramming around wildly, and he might just break through this barrier.

"I understand what you mean, you still want to start that theater troupe, right?"

"Not only will we do it, we'll do it hard!" Fueled by alcohol, Guido's words became even more outrageous. He slammed his fist on the table. "I'll show Caloway who's in charge in this city! He won't be able to protect any of the people I want to get rid of!"

“…I understand.” Charles pondered for a moment, then nodded. “Leave this to me, you don’t need to worry about it.”

"You?" Guido glanced at him, his tone suddenly filled with hesitation and distrust. "Don't joke around. You're just responsible for keeping an eye on those pickpockets and being Mr. Angelo's eyes and ears. You're not cut out for this kind of job."

“The mayor’s banquet is about to begin, and Mr. Angelo will certainly be invited. You’ll be in charge of his safety.” Charles gave him an irrefutable reason, “Leave this small matter to me.”

……

“Heh…haha…” Guido half-opened his eyes, looked at him meaningfully, and patted him on the shoulder. “Oh, Charles, you Dutchman, the more I look at you, the more I like you.”

"Once I take over the Italian gang, I'll make you my strategist!"

Chapter 234: My Companion, Who Doesn't Usually See People

Where is my suitcase?

After the performance, backstage, Zhu Kuilong's expression changed slightly. His vision and senses were extremely sharp; a quick glance revealed something missing. "Has anyone seen my suitcase? The red one, the one I've always kept with my luggage, the red briefcase with a golden Pixiu embroidered on the front. Has anyone seen it?"

Everyone was taken aback by his words. Although Zhu Kuilong wasn't actually a member of the opera troupe in terms of personnel allocation, his words still carried considerable weight. They immediately sprang into action, turning the backstage area upside down, opening every possible opening—closets, cabinets—before confirming that the box was indeed missing.

"What the hell? These people even steal from the actors' backstage!" Qiu Yun frowned slightly, her tone tinged with anger. "Aren't they afraid of retribution?"

"This place doesn't have that kind of custom," Zhu Kuilong sighed helplessly.

In this area, Evelyn, who can perform on stage, is known as a "performing artist" and enjoys a high social status. But in her hometown, being an actor is considered a lowly profession, and no respectable family would want their children to do it unless they were desperate for a living.

Even thieves have their code of honor; there are unwritten rules even among pickpockets: no one touches the money of the lowest of the low, as it's considered unlucky. Furthermore, some of those in the lowest social classes are destitute, having abandoned their families and livelihoods, perhaps just short of money for food or survival. They are highly likely to know like-minded people, and if they eventually find you, it will be a fight to the death.

Separated by a sea, these rules naturally no longer apply.

“Um, Mr. Zhu…” Evelyn walked over and said timidly, “I’ve also lost something.”

"What exactly?"

“The gilded enamel butterfly brooch, it was left to me by my mother… She said it was a piece of jewelry once worn by a queen of the Bourbon dynasty.” Evelyn’s expression was somewhat downcast. “And a bracelet, made of pearls, with a natural sapphire set in the outer part of the wrist. Before going on stage, I left these things backstage, and now they’re all…”

"What did the little girl say?" Qiu Yun had already guessed. "Did she lose something too?"

"Hmm." Zhu Kuilong nodded. "I'm asking for money."

"Boss Zhu, what's in that box of yours?" Qiu Yun couldn't help but ask. "I always see you carrying it with you, but I've never seen you open it."

“These are far more important than money; they’re priceless.” Zhu Kuilong made up his mind. “Don’t tell anyone about this yet. I will definitely get them back!”

----

Even so, the moment Zhu Kuilong stepped out of the theater and onto the street, he suddenly felt a strong sense of powerlessness.

Where to find it?

He was unfamiliar with the city, and despite speaking the same language, a deep sense of alienation existed between them. On stage, he could win thunderous applause with his superb skills.

But once he stepped off the stage and into this muddy and foggy city, he felt like he couldn't move an inch.

People come and go, their faces etched with haste, all with somewhere to go, but he is left behind by the tide, like a lonely island.

Composing himself, Zhu Kuilong stepped forward and asked the passerby, "Excuse me, have you seen a red box? It's about this big, and it has a handle on it..."

"Where did this foreign bastard come from? Get lost, get out of the way!"

Before he could finish speaking, he was shoved aside. The man wiped his sleeves and gave him a look of utter disgust, as if he were some kind of pathogen spreading a virus.

……

"Excuse me……"

"Excuse me, have you seen a box like this? It's about this big..."

"No, those are mine. You've got it wrong. I didn't steal from anyone. My things were stolen."

"The box is red and has a handle that you can hold in your hand."

"Excuse me……"

……

Zhu Kuilong sighed, leaning against the wall. The repeated setbacks were inevitably discouraging. Forget finding clues; even establishing a basic conversation was difficult. Those willing to spend a few seconds refusing him were considered lucky; most people, upon seeing his appearance, wouldn't even bother to speak, simply walking past him as if he were invisible.

Leaning against the wall, the gloomy sky reflected in his pupils, and for some reason, the name Zhang Renfeng suddenly appeared in his mind. But quickly, he shook his head, banishing the name, along with his voice and face, from his mind.

"...Excuse my rudeness, but the box you're looking for...is it wrapped in cowhide at all four corners? And are there two brass buckles on the handle with a golden monster pattern on them? And is there a cross-shaped knife mark on the front of the box?"

Like a ray of light appearing after a dead end, Zhu Kuilong rarely showed such a mix of surprise and joy as he looked at the tall, kind-faced man.

"You have excellent observation skills."

“Really? Everyone says so, that I have eyes like a hawk.” The chief tapped his forehead, his tone full of pride. “About 20 minutes ago, I saw a kid running hurriedly down the street with a box like this in his hand, hiding in the fur merchant’s area. At the time, I thought he probably stole it from some unlucky guy… Oh, it was you.”

Zhu Kuilong clasped his hands in thanks to him, saying, "I am deeply grateful! In such times, your willingness to lend a helping hand is truly touching. Please allow me to express my gratitude."

The chief waved his hand, refusing the money, and said with a smile, "That's just how things are here. They don't treat us like human beings. You'll get used to it. I'm not helping you for the money, so let's not talk about it."

“Well…” Zhu Kuilong thought for a moment, “We’re performing at the St. Quintak theater. If possible, we’ll cover the ticket price. Please come and see us.”

"Wait a minute, you're that Eastern magician?" The chief seemed to realize it just then, and his eyes widened immediately. "Everyone's talking about you lately, it's all over the streets and alleys, saying that you can conjure water and fish out of thin air, and even a burning brazier! I heard that your performances are incredibly hard to come by, and many rich people want to see them, but they can't even get tickets."

……

Tickets are so hard to get... is that true?

Recalling the scorn and insults he had just received on the street, Zhu Kuilong couldn't help but laugh. His laughter was complex, mostly self-deprecating.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m just a magician.” He promised rather solemnly, “If you come, I will definitely save you the best seat.”

"...May I bring a few more friends?" The chief scratched his head somewhat sheepishly. "They're new friends I met. If it's too much trouble..."

"No trouble at all, I can entertain any number of people the same way," Zhu Kuilong said with a smile. "Anyone who can be your friend must not be a bad person."