But they were just dreaming about it.

Because they knew the gap in status was too big. With their looks, they might not even catch the eye of these big shots.

So when the white ladies heard that Black Jack's men were actually going to assassinate this big shot, they couldn't help but gasp, some of them anxiously asked, "Sir, I heard that guy has a special powerful force under his command, which is no weaker than the City Defense Army.

Sir, are you really sure nothing will go wrong?"

Black Jack, drunk, heard this and a hint of displeasure flashed in his eyes. He slapped the white lady across the face and said, "What, you don't believe me?"

The white lady felt a stinging pain on her face from the slap but didn't dare to show any displeasure. She quickly got up from the ground, bit her lip, and said, "Sir, you've got it wrong, I was just worried about you."

The white lady kept on saying nice things, soothing Black Jack's mood.

This was her professionalism. In her line of work, women like her would immediately adjust their emotions and would never show any dissatisfaction to customers.

Under the white lady's continuous flattery and coaxing, Black Jack finally snorted coldly and revealed the truth, "Do you think it's just anyone who's going to kill him? Damn it, this guy doesn't understand that a tall tree catches the wind, and he definitely doesn't know he should cut the grass by the roots.

He offended so many gangs, damn it, he was compassionate enough to let some go, even wanted to take them under his wing.

As the saying goes, better to be the head of a chicken than the tail of a phoenix.

People who used to be bosses suddenly become subordinates, how could they be content?

Plus, he's offended some big shots, and with just a wave of their arm, thousands will respond to chop him into mincemeat and reclaim their territories.

Moreover, the big shots have already schemed in advance to mobilize most of his men and his backers.

A lot of my gang members were transferred out, and other big gangs from different districts had their manpower sucked away.

So many people, damn it, even if each one spits, they could drown him!

He's truly a dead man walking, if he survives this, I'll chop my head off and kick it as a ball!"

The white lady swallowed at these words, only then realizing the gravity of the situation.

Uniting all the underground gangs of the Upper City District against one person had never happened in the entire history of the Upper City District.

This guy could be considered infamous already.

The white lady quickly held out a drink and approached him, "It's my fault for being naive, Sir, please don't blame me. Who knew that guy was so despised for offending so many big shots? He deserves to die!"

Even though the white lady said this, deep inside she felt a tinge of regret. After all, such a man might only appear once in a hundred years.

It's kind of a pity for him to just die like that.

Black Jack looked at the coquettish white lady, unable to suppress his desire any longer. He pressed her down on the table. The white lady didn't resist, and just as Black Jack was about to indulge, a noisy footsteps suddenly came from outside.

Several figures walked into the bar.

At a glance, they saw him.

"Who the hell is Black Jack?"

Upon hearing the shout, the noisy bar fell silent in an instant, and the guests inside looked surprised at the cocky figure at the door.

Who were these brutes? Didn't they know Black Jack was the boss of this district? And the owner behind this bar?

They seemed to be here to cause trouble for Black Jack…

Annoyed by the interruption, Black Jack stood up, drunkenly looking at the figures at the door and said, "Who the hell are you?"

"Are you Black Jack?"

Black Jack noticed that the visitors meant no good. Swearing, he pulled a gun from his back, and his men around the bar stood up, striding toward the door.

"Who the hell are you bastards? How dare you mess around in my territory."

Many people in the bar showed expressions of watching a good show. Black Jack was a tough character in this district, yet someone dared to come seeking trouble with him.

The white lady, who was already in the mood, was also puzzled to see the door of the bar.

During the day, the group of people entering were silhouetted against the sunlight, making it impossible to see their faces clearly.

The white lady could only vaguely see the leading person, and after confirming Black Jack's identity, smiling with a big grin showing his white teeth.

"Forget it, whether you are him or not."

Before Black Jack and his men could react, several more figures appeared at the door of the bar holding automatic rifles, decisively pulling the trigger.

Ratatat!!!

In an instant, countless bullets rained, and in just a moment, Black Jack and his men were riddled with holes.

Black Jack was an old hand at this, he reacted in the first instance, raising his gun, but still a step too late, not even managing to fire a single shot.

The bar instantly exploded with loud screams, everyone immediately ducking behind tables to avoid the bullets.

Fortunately, the group of people didn't start a massacre in the bar. Many customers cowered in various corners of the bar in fear, and the white lady was pale and slumped on the ground.

The silhouette stepped up to Black Jack, seeing that Black Jack was still barely alive, blood bubbling from his mouth. The figure sneered, "Let me tell you, my name's Bobby, I'm the right-hand man of the guy you were talking about. Heard you said if my boss survived, you'd chop your head off and kick it as a ball? I'll fulfill that for you."

Bobby pulled a knife from his waist, chopped off Black Jack's head, and kicked it out of the bar like a ball.

Then, Bobby slowly looked at the other guests inside the bar, smiling, he said, "Everyone, don't panic, we're just here for revenge, not senseless killing. Today, everything you order is on me, Bobby, and from now on, this bar belongs to our gang!"

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