{900 Power Stones bonus chapter }
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After sending the three away, Susie finally finished her tasks.
She stood up, took the empty cup from Alex Cross's hand, and set it aside.
Puzzled, she asked:
"Mr. Cross, we really don't need to keep those people alive. Wouldn't it be more efficient to just eliminate them, take their territory, and have our assassins expand outward step by step?"
"Because of the High Table…"
Alex Cross rubbed his brow, leaned back in the chair, and stretched his neck.
Susie instantly understood.
She moved behind him and began massaging his shoulders.
Only then did Alex Cross lazily continue:
"My original plan was more direct…"
"Collect intel on every gang in New York, wipe them all out, and then assign people to take over."
"That way I could claim the whole city in the shortest possible time, and also quickly flush out the mysterious person who killed our two assassins."
At this point, Alex Cross sighed.
"Unfortunately… when I went to the Continental, Winston told me the High Table has already set their eyes on me."
The moment she heard those three words High Table, even Susie's massage paused for a second.
She instinctively asked:
"Mr. Cross, should we make preparations…?"
Alex Cross shook his head.
"No need."
"This isn't good news, but as long as I keep a low profile and don't stir up too much chaos for a while, the High Table will turn a blind eye."
Hearing this, Susie suddenly realized. Her tone carried a trace of excitement.
"So that's it! Mr. Cross, you thought of using gangs to fight gangs!"
Alex Cross accepted the admiration calmly.
After all, the rules of the assassin underworld didn't apply to gangs. That was common sense.
It's just that in a world dominated by the High Table, no one ever thought to look at the problem from outside their rules.
So, the gangs were nothing but pawns…
After leaving the hotel, Bruno, Harold, and Irene each took action.
Bruno rushed to hail a taxi. On the ride, he cursed at the driver to go faster while phoning his wife, telling her to wait at home with their kids. Then he called back to Delly Loan Company, calmed his men, and quickly set plans into motion.
Harold, on the other hand, was calmer. His first call was to his most trusted lieutenant, instructing him to pick up his wife and children. He himself unhurriedly hailed a cab and headed back to his base.
The smartest was Irene. Standing outside the hotel, she first phoned her husband, telling him to bring their son to the Lighthouse Hotel. Then she called her deputy, ordering her to bring all ledgers and important records to the Lighthouse Hotel. Only after that did she turn around, return inside, and book a luxury suite.
This woman had decided to move her entire gang headquarters into the Lighthouse Hotel itself!
When Alex Cross heard, he didn't refuse. He only had Susie remind Irene not to completely empty her old headquarters. For now, the illusion had to be maintained.
Afterward, Alex Cross ordered Margarita:
"For the next week, don't let the assassins take outside contracts."
By six in the evening, with the three gang bosses sending their families to the hotel, a gang war sweeping across New York erupted!
Yellowstone Gang — a fringe gang under the Night Demon Organization, its turf bordering the Delly Gang's. They had always coexisted peacefully.
At 7 PM, in the Yellowstone-controlled streets, casinos, bars, and strip clubs were running as usual. Gang enforcers loitered nearby, killing time with crude chatter.
"Willy! You don't even know, last night some chick got wasted, I took her back—damn, she was wild!"
"That's nothing! I had two last night…"
Outside a bar, a few thugs were boasting when—
Bang!
A single gunshot shattered the relaxed atmosphere. The bullet didn't hit anyone, serving only as a warning.
More than a dozen Delly gangsters, wielding mismatched pistols, had their sights trained on the Yellowstone men about to flee.
One shouted:
"Yellowstone scum! Anyone who runs, I'll drop you!"
And sure enough, with a dozen guns pointed their way, none of them dared move.
But soon, seven or eight Yellowstone gunmen rushed out of the bar, weapons drawn.
Bang!
Another shot into the air.
The leader sneered:
"Delly trash, if you've got the guts—pull the trigger!"
Bang!
Before the words had finished, the man was shot. Not a fatal hit, but enough to leave him screaming.
"Kill them! Open fire! Shoot them all!!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bullets flew.
Gunfire erupted everywhere.
Bodies weren't piling up, but screams echoed across the Yellowstone turf.
The gang war had begun.
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