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Chapter 27: Here, Take Him
The modification speed was slower than Tony imagined. The Old Bartender, carrying a liquor bottle, immediately demanded tens of thousands of dollars from Tony. He wanted to buy the best parts, the best alloys, the best Converters, intending to modify a War Motorcycle.
Both of them were extravagant, spending money without batting an eye. Some people, seeing an opportunity for profit, approached, trying to swindle some money, but they were quickly seen through by the Old Bartender. Then Tony stepped in and beat the person half to death.
Screams rang out, attracting many people's attention. Some people with dark backgrounds looked on indifferently; some grew impatient.
"This is the Irish Gang's territory. Who dares cause trouble here?" A burly man with a ferocious face started pulling out his gun. By their rules, he was authorized to kill these ignorant rookies.
Soon, another person stopped him, quietly telling him that the young man doing the beating was the recently renowned Mechanist.
"Don't let that guy's youth and ignorance fool you. As long as he gets a chance to act, he'll definitely go for the kill. Quite a few people have been killed by him recently."
People whispered amongst themselves. Many cast gazes of concern and wariness towards Tony. Those who originally intended to act quietly hid their guns, not daring to show any hint of their intentions.
Rumors circulated that unless this Mutant was lured to the wilderness, wherever he went, it was likely his home turf.
This Mutant seemed to possess the ability to continuously create Mechanical Soldiers, but no one knew what the exact limit was.
A very peculiar person approached Tony. He was completely covered from head to toe in a thick, special black uniform, and on his head, he wore a Hood, impenetrable to light.
"Does this guy want to provoke him? Or befriend him?"
"I bet he'll return defeated after at most three sentences. Who but a large organization could win over that Mutant?"
People discussed amongst themselves, waiting to see this guy's pathetic end.
The peculiar person stood directly in front of Tony, meeting Tony's gaze without any fear.
"Mr. Tony." The peculiar person smiled, revealing sharp fangs, seemingly intentionally letting Tony see them. "I represent the Thompson Family and send you our regards."
The Old Bartender, who had been squatting, suddenly trembled. He then nonchalantly continued with the installation, though his legs were trembling a bit, and he couldn't fasten a single buckle even after trying for a long time.
Tony was expressionless: "I don't believe I have any pleasantries to exchange with your kind."
"Don't say that," the peculiar person said courteously. "Last night, you 'cleansed' our Thompson Family Stronghold, which was quite impressive. Your name has now spread throughout the entire Underworld, completely stripping our family of its prestige. By the way, my name is John Thompson."
"So you've come to start a war? You want to wage war against me in broad daylight?" Tony asked with a half-smile.
Vampires cannot stand Sunlight; exposure means certain death.
John remained noncommittal: "Hand that old thing over to me, and our grievances will be wiped clean. I guarantee, on the honor of the Thompson Family, that no one will come to trouble you."
"He's a Vampire Familiar? That's the first I've heard of it. However, this person is useful to me, I cannot hand him over." Tony refused. He lied through his teeth, feigning ignorance, indicating it was impossible to hand over the Old Bartender.
John Thompson's smile became a little stiff. He didn't believe Tony would be so "gentlemanly", arresting someone for no reason and then not even interrogating them?
Look at how that old fox next to him is nodding and bowing, practically willing to bare his soul. It would be damned if this Mutant truly knew nothing.
The Old Bartender's acting was absolutely flawless. His loyal expression could deceive anyone; even a film emperor would have to acknowledge his skill. The Old Bartender had long since honed his acting skills over the years, knowing how to adapt his words to any audience, speaking to people in their own language and to ghosts in theirs.
Tony glanced at the Old Bartender, suppressing the urge to kick him, then stepped forward, looking down at the Vampire: "He is of great use to me, I will not hand him over to you."
Tony felt utterly disgusted saying this. He wished he could kick the Old Bartender to death.
John Thompson smiled again. He straightened his back, maintaining a courteous demeanor. Despite his unsightly attire, he still exuded the noble aura of a Pureblood.
"The Thompson Family doesn't wish to sour relations with you over a single Vampire Familiar, but if you insist on not handing him over, it could very likely make enemies of our Thompson Family and numerous affiliated smaller families." John said with a strange, threatening smile.
Several peculiar people, dressed in similar attire, emerged, surrounding Tony. Nearby staff members wanted to intervene, but the peculiar people's red eyes scared them away, and they dared not approach to court death.
"Mr. Tony, please reconsider one last time, do not court disaster." John Thompson offered his final persuasion to Tony, his tone carrying a threat, but in his heart, he was secretly calculating, feeling the timing was right. The task assigned by that person was complete, and he should withdraw.
Tony remained silent for a long time. Seeing John about to leave, he narrowed his eyes and suddenly spoke: "Alright, I concede. I'll do as you say."
"What?!" John was stunned, instantly freezing on the spot, looking at Tony in disbelief. This scene was completely absent from his script; it was entirely different from what that person had instructed.
"Mr. Tony, what did you say... you're willing to hand over this old fellow to me?" John was very nervous. His tongue tied, he suddenly didn't know what to say next.
"Yes, he's yours." Tony sighed, pulled the Old Bartender over with a look of disgust, and told John he could take him away.
John was dumbfounded, and so was the Old Bartender. What was going on in this young man's head? How could he sell out the Old Bartender so easily?
Tony spread his hands, indicating his innocence, and said, "I'm utterly disgusted with this old fox, and I truly fear the power of your esteemed family. If you truly insist on having him, I will fully cooperate. That was a misunderstanding before, all a misunderstanding. Our grievances are wiped clean from now on, as you said."
Tony looked as if he was burying the hatchet with the other party, appearing quite chummy.
John broke out in a cold sweat. He bit the bullet and said, "Are you really sure? Won't you reconsider?" He still wanted to struggle one last time, hoping there might be a way out.
Tony nodded firmly, hoping to reconcile with the Thompson Family.
The onlookers, who had been unceremoniously chased away by these peculiar people, collectively urged John to quickly take the man and leave, not to cause trouble here and encroach on their business.
"This is Irish Gang property. If you don't want trouble, just leave quickly."
"Exactly! Didn't he already compromise? What are you doing? Hurry up and take the man and leave!"
People urged John not to be so stubbornly difficult.
Even the Old Bartender's eyes darted around slyly, his cunning was evident. Sensing the situation, he opportunistically lay down on the ground, urging the Vampires to quickly carry him away: "Following this guy, I don't eat well or sleep soundly. Hurry and rescue me! The old days were much better."
John was so angry he trembled slightly. He felt very awkward and embarrassed. He had an impulse to strike down both this old fox and the crowd of onlookers with a single strike.
(end of chapter)
The modification speed was slower than Tony imagined. The Old Bartender, carrying a liquor bottle, immediately demanded tens of thousands of dollars from Tony. He wanted to buy the best parts, the best alloys, the best Converters, intending to modify a War Motorcycle.
Both of them were extravagant, spending money without batting an eye. Some people, seeing an opportunity for profit, approached, trying to swindle some money, but they were quickly seen through by the Old Bartender. Then Tony stepped in and beat the person half to death.
Screams rang out, attracting many people's attention. Some people with dark backgrounds looked on indifferently; some grew impatient.
"This is the Irish Gang's territory. Who dares cause trouble here?" A burly man with a ferocious face started pulling out his gun. By their rules, he was authorized to kill these ignorant rookies.
Soon, another person stopped him, quietly telling him that the young man doing the beating was the recently renowned Mechanist.
"Don't let that guy's youth and ignorance fool you. As long as he gets a chance to act, he'll definitely go for the kill. Quite a few people have been killed by him recently."
People whispered amongst themselves. Many cast gazes of concern and wariness towards Tony. Those who originally intended to act quietly hid their guns, not daring to show any hint of their intentions.
Rumors circulated that unless this Mutant was lured to the wilderness, wherever he went, it was likely his home turf.
This Mutant seemed to possess the ability to continuously create Mechanical Soldiers, but no one knew what the exact limit was.
A very peculiar person approached Tony. He was completely covered from head to toe in a thick, special black uniform, and on his head, he wore a Hood, impenetrable to light.
"Does this guy want to provoke him? Or befriend him?"
"I bet he'll return defeated after at most three sentences. Who but a large organization could win over that Mutant?"
People discussed amongst themselves, waiting to see this guy's pathetic end.
The peculiar person stood directly in front of Tony, meeting Tony's gaze without any fear.
"Mr. Tony." The peculiar person smiled, revealing sharp fangs, seemingly intentionally letting Tony see them. "I represent the Thompson Family and send you our regards."
The Old Bartender, who had been squatting, suddenly trembled. He then nonchalantly continued with the installation, though his legs were trembling a bit, and he couldn't fasten a single buckle even after trying for a long time.
Tony was expressionless: "I don't believe I have any pleasantries to exchange with your kind."
"Don't say that," the peculiar person said courteously. "Last night, you 'cleansed' our Thompson Family Stronghold, which was quite impressive. Your name has now spread throughout the entire Underworld, completely stripping our family of its prestige. By the way, my name is John Thompson."
"So you've come to start a war? You want to wage war against me in broad daylight?" Tony asked with a half-smile.
Vampires cannot stand Sunlight; exposure means certain death.
John remained noncommittal: "Hand that old thing over to me, and our grievances will be wiped clean. I guarantee, on the honor of the Thompson Family, that no one will come to trouble you."
"He's a Vampire Familiar? That's the first I've heard of it. However, this person is useful to me, I cannot hand him over." Tony refused. He lied through his teeth, feigning ignorance, indicating it was impossible to hand over the Old Bartender.
John Thompson's smile became a little stiff. He didn't believe Tony would be so "gentlemanly", arresting someone for no reason and then not even interrogating them?
Look at how that old fox next to him is nodding and bowing, practically willing to bare his soul. It would be damned if this Mutant truly knew nothing.
The Old Bartender's acting was absolutely flawless. His loyal expression could deceive anyone; even a film emperor would have to acknowledge his skill. The Old Bartender had long since honed his acting skills over the years, knowing how to adapt his words to any audience, speaking to people in their own language and to ghosts in theirs.
Tony glanced at the Old Bartender, suppressing the urge to kick him, then stepped forward, looking down at the Vampire: "He is of great use to me, I will not hand him over to you."
Tony felt utterly disgusted saying this. He wished he could kick the Old Bartender to death.
John Thompson smiled again. He straightened his back, maintaining a courteous demeanor. Despite his unsightly attire, he still exuded the noble aura of a Pureblood.
"The Thompson Family doesn't wish to sour relations with you over a single Vampire Familiar, but if you insist on not handing him over, it could very likely make enemies of our Thompson Family and numerous affiliated smaller families." John said with a strange, threatening smile.
Several peculiar people, dressed in similar attire, emerged, surrounding Tony. Nearby staff members wanted to intervene, but the peculiar people's red eyes scared them away, and they dared not approach to court death.
"Mr. Tony, please reconsider one last time, do not court disaster." John Thompson offered his final persuasion to Tony, his tone carrying a threat, but in his heart, he was secretly calculating, feeling the timing was right. The task assigned by that person was complete, and he should withdraw.
Tony remained silent for a long time. Seeing John about to leave, he narrowed his eyes and suddenly spoke: "Alright, I concede. I'll do as you say."
"What?!" John was stunned, instantly freezing on the spot, looking at Tony in disbelief. This scene was completely absent from his script; it was entirely different from what that person had instructed.
"Mr. Tony, what did you say... you're willing to hand over this old fellow to me?" John was very nervous. His tongue tied, he suddenly didn't know what to say next.
"Yes, he's yours." Tony sighed, pulled the Old Bartender over with a look of disgust, and told John he could take him away.
John was dumbfounded, and so was the Old Bartender. What was going on in this young man's head? How could he sell out the Old Bartender so easily?
Tony spread his hands, indicating his innocence, and said, "I'm utterly disgusted with this old fox, and I truly fear the power of your esteemed family. If you truly insist on having him, I will fully cooperate. That was a misunderstanding before, all a misunderstanding. Our grievances are wiped clean from now on, as you said."
Tony looked as if he was burying the hatchet with the other party, appearing quite chummy.
John broke out in a cold sweat. He bit the bullet and said, "Are you really sure? Won't you reconsider?" He still wanted to struggle one last time, hoping there might be a way out.
Tony nodded firmly, hoping to reconcile with the Thompson Family.
The onlookers, who had been unceremoniously chased away by these peculiar people, collectively urged John to quickly take the man and leave, not to cause trouble here and encroach on their business.
"This is Irish Gang property. If you don't want trouble, just leave quickly."
"Exactly! Didn't he already compromise? What are you doing? Hurry up and take the man and leave!"
People urged John not to be so stubbornly difficult.
Even the Old Bartender's eyes darted around slyly, his cunning was evident. Sensing the situation, he opportunistically lay down on the ground, urging the Vampires to quickly carry him away: "Following this guy, I don't eat well or sleep soundly. Hurry and rescue me! The old days were much better."
John was so angry he trembled slightly. He felt very awkward and embarrassed. He had an impulse to strike down both this old fox and the crowd of onlookers with a single strike.
(end of chapter)
