36: Chapter 36 The Mexican Godfather: Mr. Chen is my half-father

The estate of Don Miguel was like a steel beast with its jaws wide open at this moment.

Heavy machine guns were mounted on the walls, snipers lay in ambush in the grass, and even behind those two stone lions at the entrance, which looked like mere decorations, two Russian mercenaries carrying RPGs were hiding.

This was a meticulously planned trap.

Miguel sat on the leather sofa in the hall, holding a glass of aged tequila. His murky yet sinister old eyes were filled with calculation.

"Where has that Easterner reached?"

"Five hundred meters away."

The subordinate's report came through the walkie-talkie, "Only one vehicle. A... heavily modified anti-riot armored vehicle. Followed by a few trucks that look like they are transporting goods."

"One vehicle?"

Miguel was stunned for a moment, then burst into a cackle like a broken gong, "Hahahaha! What a fool! Does he really think he is Rambo? Daring to storm my den of tigers and dragons all by himself?"

The Russian advisor standing next to him also revealed a look of contempt, "It seems we overestimated him. Arrogant guys like this usually don't survive the first episode."

"Pass down the order!"

Miguel downed the wine in his glass in one gulp and smashed the glass fiercely on the floor, "Once he enters the courtyard, close the gate! Shoot him to death! I want him riddled with holes, then hung on the flagpole to be exposed for three days!"

"Yes!"

The atmosphere inside the estate tightened to the breaking point instantly.

Everyone had their fingers on their triggers, countless eyes staring fixedly at the carved iron gate, waiting for the prey to walk right into the trap.

Rumble—

The roar of the engine grew closer.

The sound was low and violent, not like a vehicle, but more like an ancient mammoth charging.

"It's here!"

Miguel stood up excitedly and walked to the window, "Fire!"

However, the scene that unfolded the next second caused the smile on his face to freeze instantly, turning into extreme terror.

That pitch-black armored vehicle did not slow down, nor did it wait for the gate to open.

Like a black meteorite, it charged with unstoppable momentum, slamming fiercely into the wall that was half a meter thick!

"Boom—!!!"

An earth-shattering roar.

Dust filled the air, and gravel flew everywhere.

The sturdy wall was shattered instantly as if it were made of paper. The armored vehicle roared into the courtyard, its massive bumper directly scooping up the two unlucky souls hiding behind the stone lions, smashing them and the stone lions into powder.

"What... the hell is this vehicle?!"

Miguel retreated two steps in fright, the cigar in his hand dropping onto the carpet.

But this was only the beginning.

The trucks following closely behind the armored vehicle did not charge in but braked sharply at the breach.

The canvas was lifted.

Countless black figures surged out like a black tide.

They were all wearing identical black trench coats, sunglasses, and wide-brimmed hats, and their stature was ridiculously tall. They made no tactical movements, sought no cover, and did not even make a sound.

They simply marched with heavy, uniform steps, holding heavy machine guns, advancing toward the interior of the estate.

"Fire! Open fire quickly!"

The bodyguards guarding the courtyard were terrified and pulled their triggers frantically.

"Da-da-da-da!"

Dense bullets hit those men in black, kicking up splashes of dark green blood. But those giants only swayed slightly, not even breaking their stride, continuing to pull the triggers in their hands with cold indifference.

The counterattack began.

It was not shooting; it was harvesting.

Five hundred squad machine guns fired simultaneously, the resulting metal storm instantly covering the entire front yard. Those bodyguards hiding behind sandbags and bushes were torn to shreds by large-caliber bullets before they could even scream.

"Monsters... they are all monsters!"

The Russian advisor watched this scene, his face as pale as paper, "They have no sense of pain! They aren't human! This is a biochemical unit!"

"Quick! Tell the snipers to aim for the head!"

"Bang!"

An anti-materiel sniper round accurately hit the head of one of the men in black.

The man in black's hat was knocked off, and half of his head was sheared away. But he did not fall; instead, he shook his neck, revealing wriggling flesh buds and metal bones inside, then raised his muzzle and blew the sniper and the watchtower apart with a single burst.

Despair.

Utter despair.

Miguel watched the black legion advancing like a bulldozer outside the window, his legs went weak, and he collapsed to the floor.

The lair he had operated for thirty years, the defensive line he had spent a fortune to build, was as fragile as a joke in front of this Easterner's private army.

"Boom!"

The villa's front door was smashed open.

Two even taller Tyrants rushed in first. They did not use guns but extended their sharp claws directly.

Several elite bodyguards attempting to block them were easily torn apart like roasted chicken, blood splattering all over the expensive crystal chandelier.

Immediately after, the young man in a spotless suit walked in.

Chen Yuan.

He stepped over the corpses on the ground as if he were strolling through his own backyard. He was still holding that exquisite folding fan, gently fanning away the thick smell of gunpowder in front of him.

"Cough, cough."

Chen Yuan frowned and glanced at Miguel, who was slumped behind the sofa, "Mr. Godfather, your hospitality doesn't seem very warm."

Miguel was trembling all over.

He looked at Chen Yuan, then at the two blood-soaked demon gods standing behind Chen Yuan, and the dark mass of the undead legion outside the door.

All his dignity, pride, and status had turned into dust in the face of absolute violence.

"Don't... don't kill me!"

This "local emperor" who had dominated for thirty years now crawled out regardless of his image, kneeling at Chen Yuan's feet, snot and tears streaming down his face.

"Mr. Chen! It's a misunderstanding! It's all a misunderstanding!"

Miguel pointed at the Russian advisor in the corner, who had been scared silly, and cried out loudly, "It was these Russians who forced me! They said if I didn't cooperate, they would kill my whole family! I was forced!"

The Russian advisor: "???"

"You old bastard! It was clearly you who took the money..."

"Bang!"

Before the advisor could finish, Miguel pulled a pocket pistol from his bosom and, without hesitation, turned and blew the advisor's head off with a single shot.

Then, he threw the gun away, hugged Chen Yuan's thigh with both hands, and revealed a fawning smile that looked worse than crying:

"Mr. Chen... no, Master Chen! Look, I have already cleaned up the house for you!"

"From now on, you are my second parents! No, you are my adoptive father from different parents!"

"As long as you don't kill me, my territory, my money, my women, they are all yours! I will be your dog! Woof woof woof!"

Chen Yuan looked down at this old hooligan with absolutely no bottom line and couldn't help but smile.

Able to bend and stretch.

No wonder he could sit in this position for thirty years.

"Good boy."

Chen Yuan reached out and patted Miguel's wrinkled old face, as if patting an obedient old dog, "Since you are so filial, I cannot be too heartless."

He pulled out a prepared transfer agreement from his pocket and threw it in front of Miguel.

"Sign it."

"Hand over all your industries, channels, and those shady account books. And then..."

Chen Yuan pointed outside, "Take your people and get out of San Verde. Go farm in the countryside or go fishing by the sea, just don't let me see you again."

"Yes, yes, yes! I will sign it right now! I will get out right now!"

Miguel, as if granted amnesty, grabbed the pen and signed frantically, fearing that if he were a second late, Chen Yuan would change his mind.

Ten minutes later.

As Miguel fled in a sorry state with his remnants, this estate, which symbolized the underground power of San Verde, officially changed hands.

Chen Yuan stood on the second-floor balcony, overlooking the city's dazzling night view.

From today on, this place belongs to Chen.

"Boss."

Natasha walked over, holding a thick asset list in her hand, looking at Chen Yuan with complex eyes. She hadn't expected that this man would really overturn the entire city's layout in just one night.

"Miguel's assets have been counted. Apart from a large amount of cash and real estate, the most valuable item is a nightclub located in the city center."

"A nightclub?"

Chen Yuan raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, 'Jile Nightclub'."

Natasha explained, "That is the largest money pit in the city, as well as a transit point for various intelligence, funds, and even arms trades. Whoever controls that place controls the throat of this city."

Chen Yuan's eyes lit up.

Intelligence center?

This was exactly what he was lacking most right now. With it, the Red Queen's tentacles could truly extend to every corner.

"Very good."

Chen Yuan closed his folding fan and turned to walk out, his steps light:

"Prepare the car."

"Go to that nightclub. Tonight, I want to have a drink there."