Beating Instances through Words Left by the Dead

”You successfully protected Amber, making her no longer completely deny herself and assured her that she is not purely the aggressor.”

”You received partial recognition from Amber, her current recognition value towards you is: 20 points.”

”You gained an additional 10% attribute release.”

Wu Chang looked at the attribute panel, his current attributes were:

Life: 24

Power: Physique: 24/True Self: 61

Agility: 16.5

Endurance: 18

Energy: Physique: 76.5/True Self: 45

Inspiration: 34

Will: 47

Although the increased attribute release was only 10%, it indeed doubled compared to the previous attributes.

Wu Chang spread his fingers and then slowly clenched them into a fist, feeling the increased power within his body.

Everyone was struggling with single-digit values, at most a dozen points, while his physique’s energy attribute was close to a hundred.

Isn’t this a bit too unfair to the other players?

Well, if the values don’t overwhelm, what’s the point of being a value monster?

Although the value increase was certainly delightful, Wu Chang also noticed that after resolving the mirror world’s killer, making Amber significantly more cheerful, Amber’s recognition towards him only increased by 20.

Solving the mirror killer implies making Amber no longer completely deny and doubt herself, so estimating by this progress, he still needs to help Amber solve at least four problems to boost her recognition value to 100.

Tsk, she really is a problem child of this family.

While Wu Chang’s physique played the role of an elementary school teacher, protecting the problem child Amber, his True Self was gradually taking control of White Old K, striving to become a big figure in Sigef City.

He initially favored White Old K because White Old K was substantial, had many backers, and had no psychological burden when taking action.

But being substantial and having many backers meant White Old K couldn’t be easily taken over.

He did take down Kent and most gang leaders, but those leaders attending the trading night were Kent’s confidants, and many leaders did not appear.

These leaders either had their own factions, were already disloyal, eying Kent’s position; or had backing, merely using White Old K for business, Kent couldn’t command or dare eliminate them.

Another portion were small fringe leaders, weak in strength, few in numbers, relying on White Old K’s banner to flaunt power.

Aside from the third kind of insignificant threat, Kent’s death wouldn’t intimidate the first two types of leaders, instead, it would encourage recklessness, even gearing up to divide White Old K.

Such internal strife, Wu Chang, as the patriarch of the organization, absolutely wouldn’t tolerate.

What he wanted was a complete White Old K, not a fragmented mess needing gradual integration; he didn’t have time to waste.

So he’s prepared to talk to several leaders, hoping to convince them through virtue.

Thus he inquired Miles, who remained from the trading night, seeing what methods he might have, though admittedly without much hope, surprisingly Miles really had a way.

Miles, despite being timid, held a high position, not only not low in status, but also academically impressive.

A master’s degree in business administration from Stanford Business School, Miles had a highly flexible mind; after graduation, he didn’t choose to vie with other top graduates or the rich second generation funded into groups, instead, he found an alternate path, joining White Old K back home through his uncle’s introduction.

He was responsible for gang operations and underground trading in White Old K, making gang business flourish, gaining Kent’s considerable trust, and he virtually became White Old K’s housekeeper.

Sigef City was merely a southern border city, wild, coarse, backward, almost imprinted on the state’s flag.

Ordinary top graduates preferred to run to northern coastal big cities speaking of freedom and human rights after graduation; few were willing to return to Sigef, even fewer were keen on gang involvement.

In Sigef City, one might start mixing in gangs from the moment they could walk and wield a whip striking black objects, skipping two decades of detours, gaining two more decades of work experience; returning after studying to engage in gang activities sounded unnecessary.

Miles, as a rare top graduate mixing in gangs had no ambition but immense capability, earning recognition from various forces.

Whether it was on Kent’s side or other thorny high-ups, they treated him with respect.

Miles first blocked information, not releasing news of Kent and the clients’ deaths.

Then he sent messages to other leaders, saying clients wanted to expand business, having constructed several phases of factories in the rainforest, and hired several highly competent chemistry teachers as technical advisors.

Not only could they increase flour supply, but the supply was all kernel flour, high quality, excellent taste, great flavor, and each bite would leave one speechless.

Kent needed to convene them to discuss shipment issues and allocate quotas for each phase.

Relying on good rapport, the leaders believed Miles without doubt, and by the next afternoon, they eagerly arrived at the factory to have a proper contest with Kent.

Previously, flour supply was scarce; Kent focused on his subordinates, while fans of flour in their territories starved, never consistently satisfied, sometimes having to pay extra to buy flour.

Now with increased flour quantities, if Kent played tricks again, they wouldn’t agree.

On the way, several already agreed to stand together, pressuring Kent into conceding.

So this visit was robust, with everyone present, prepared to exert some pressure on Kent.

The factory’s rolling door opened, Miles was already waiting at the entrance with an unfamiliar large man.

After a few casual greetings, Miles led the group inside the factory.

Just a short distance in, everyone heard the thumping sounds of physical collisions; in the distance, two fighters were fiercely battling on a bare-knuckle fighting ring.

Below the stage, Kent and his leaders firmly sat in the audience seats, engrossed, not bothering to glance back at them.

Heh, what an impressive air.

Several leaders exchanged glances, realizing negotiations today might not be so smooth.

Everyone steadily approached the bare-knuckle arena, their shoes tapping loudly on the floor, while Kent and the group in the audience seats remained particularly calm, not sparing them a glance.

Alright, alright, play this game, huh.

If you dare, we’ll come right in front of you, and you still don’t dare turn around!

The representative of the leaders was named Perico, sporting a crew cut and a gunshot wound across his jaw.

The wound came from an ambush; had he leaned back a second later, the bullet would have entered his brain from the side. He endured the gunshot and counter-attacked the killer, thus nicknamed Neo by friends.

The bullet-dodging Neo.

He quickened his pace in front of Kent, taking the initiative to shout: ”Boss Kent, we’re here!”

The only response he got was deathly silence.

Kent continued watching the fight, seemingly oblivious to Perico’s existence.

Perico laughed, laughed angrily; looking at Kent in sunglasses and a top hat, he felt gravely insulted.

He pulled out a box of cigars, saying: ”Boss, this is the new stuff I got, each rolled on a young girl’s thigh; I personally inspected the work, absolutely no fakes.”

While speaking, he swung his hand, pretending to accidentally knock Kent’s hat off, ”Oh sorry, look at me...”

Perico stared at Kent’s hat as it fell, revealing his missing upper head, stunned.

I just wanted to knock off your hat, not lift off your entire skull.

Next moment he reacted, removing the sunglasses from White beside him, beneath them were eyes filled with madness and fear.

Damn!

By the time he reacted, the two fighters on stage had already stopped, drawing two machine guns, starting to fire at Perico.

From cover around the factory, numerous gang members appeared and crazily fired while these leaders were still unresponsive.

Facing the assault from the two fighters, Perico reacted immediately, diving and rolling, scrambling into cover.

The bullet-dodging Neo wasn’t just an idle boast.

”You bastard Miles, once I get out, I’ll make you pay! Believe me, I’ll hang your entire family on Sigef City’s street signs, not leaving a single one!”

Perico threatened while drawing a gun, waiting for a gap in gunfire to break out.

Fortunately, he was prepared, carrying two mini submachine guns inside his suit.

This pack of scum won’t stop him!

Perico hid behind a pillar, counting time, ready to charge out from cover once the gunfire ceased.

With the sound of gunfire waning, Perico’s eyes widened, now was the moment!

However, before he could act, suddenly discovered that the giant with Miles had somehow appeared in front of him.

”You...”

Perico hadn’t finished speaking when a fist the size of a sand bowl smashed into his face, silencing him completely.

Kid, you can dodge bullets, but can you dodge punches?