“Mother… fuckers.”
Ten minutes later.
He Ye slammed the Pavlo Loan Contract onto the pavement, driving his heel into it repeatedly to vent his fury. His face twisted with raw indignation as he spat the words between clenched teeth.
Pure scum!
The contract not only levied an extortionate interest rate exceeding fifty percent, but it was also riddled with front-loaded deduction fees, predatory compounding terms, and a labyrinth of hidden traps. The fact that this company was permitted to exist was an insult to humanity!
Take Riley, who stood beside him now. The youth was holding one thousand kronen, but the principal listed on the contract was a full two thousand. The clerks had even interrogated him on the purpose of the loan, adjusting their predatory upfront deductions based on his answers.
Absolute subhuman filth!
“Fuck it. I’m wiping this damn company off the map!”
Pushed beyond his limit, He Ye drew his pistol, fully prepared to raise hell. He might be an intelligence spy, but he had years of bloody battlefield experience under his belt. A handful of back-alley thugs were nothing to him!
Seeing the National Security Bureau “officer” about to charge in blind, Riley hastily grabbed his coat.
“Sir! Don’t be reckless! Pavlo’s attack dogs are all inside!”
“How many dogs?!” He Ye snarled, rolling up his sleeves.
“Thirty or so! I know you’re mighty and you’ve got a piece, sir, but they’re not pushovers either… Shouldn’t you call in some backup first?” Riley pleaded, trying to block his path. In his mind, how could a single man take on thirty hardened gangsters?
Hearing the number, He Ye reigned in his temper slightly. Thirty men—even thirty pigs—would be a headache to deal with single-handedly. Yet he knew calling for reinforcements was impossible. He was an operative of Borussia, a fugitive actively hunted by the real National Security Bureau.
He could hardly summon Mist, Mark, and Lawrence to reform their elite squad over a slum brawl.
Yet walking away was out of the question.
His gaze dropped to Riley. The kid was a greedy fool who genuinely believed he was dealing with an NSB officer. Rude as the assessment was, He Ye had to admit the idiot was useful.
A plan rapidly formed in his mind.
He Ye’s gaze sharpened like a honed blade. Sliding the pistol back into his waistband, he said sternly, “By the authority of Staff Sergeant Marlens, Team 4, Public Security Countermeasures Section, National Security Bureau, I am issuing you an emergency directive.”
He reached into his breast pocket and produced a forged identity badge—one of his standard espionage props—before barking with absolute authority:
“The situation is critical! I order you to immediately recruit able-bodied citizens of conviction! Rest assured, this is not a pointless waste of your sweat and blood. Once the operation is concluded, the government will award each man a ten-thousand-kronen bounty!”
Before Riley could even gasp in disbelief, He Ye slapped the entire remaining stack of eight thousand kronen directly into his hands!
“Consider this an advance. I trust you can assemble a formidable squad. And let me warn you: if you think of running off with this cash, I have already memorized your face. I trust our second meeting won’t be in the tribunal courtroom.”
He Ye gave Riley’s shoulder a firm, encouraging clap. The swift combination of lethal threat and absurd wealth instantly set the youth’s blood on fire.
“Sir, you have to understand—in the slums, every man will turn into a fearless warrior for cash!” Riley squeaked, his hands trembling as he shoved the money deep into his coat.
“Go, and make it quick! Distribute that among the upstanding citizens willing to answer the call!” He Ye snapped irritably. In truth, he was taking a massive gamble, but it was the only play he had.
“What about you, sir?”
“I’m going in first to flash my badge and demand their full cooperation with the investigation. If they resist, that’s where you and your men come in,” He Ye hinted heavily. “As for my subordinates, they are already on their way.”
“Understood, sir!”
Perhaps carried away by He Ye’s commanding aura, Riley snapped an awkward, rigid salute like a real soldier, his eyes blazing with resolve. Turning on his heel, he sprinted off into the night, practically vibrating with excitement.
I gotta grab Milo, Servan, Jaeger… We’re gonna make a fucking fortune! Riley thought, kissing the banknotes as he tore through the alleys.
As for He Ye, left standing alone—
He was well aware that no cavalry was coming. Yet without a shred of hesitation, he turned, strode up the stone steps, and marched toward the entrance of the Pavlo Credit & Loan Company, cursing beneath his breath.
Goddamn bastards.
Thud!
He kicked the double doors wide open!
“Fuck! What blind bastard—”
The man stationed at the lobby desk barked around his cigar. It was the scarred thug who had handed over the money moments ago.
At a nearby table sat four or five other men playing Diamond Cards. Every one of them looked like a hardened street brawler, lacking even a semblance of civic decency.
Having kicked the door in, He Ye stripped off his cumbersome British trench coat and tossed it outside. Beneath it, his white button-down shirt pulled taut against his dense, powerful frame. As an intelligence spy, his combat capability was formidable.
“Me,” He Ye said coldly.
“What kind of self-introduction is ‘me’?! Kid, you got a death wish?! Kicking down the doors of Pavlo Company?!”
A bald brute adorned with a thick gold chain stomped forward, looming over He Ye like an armored ape. Yet the moment he stepped within striking distance, he stumbled and collapsed to his knees, clutching his crotch as tears flooded down his cheeks.
He Ye had delivered a devastating knee strike directly into the man’s groin.
“My balls… Aghhh…”
He Ye gave his leg a light shake, his cold eyes sweeping over the rest of the room. The remaining thugs felt a jolt of terror, entirely unable to gauge the depth of this newcomer’s strength.
“Jeff… Jeff got taken down in one hit…”
“Is he some bankrupt lunatic looking to get himself killed?”
The thugs exchanged uneasy glances and muttered among themselves. None dared step forward, freezing the room in a tense standoff. One of the grunts scurried to the rotary telephone on the counter, whispering frantically into the receiver, “We got trouble! Someone’s wrecking the place!”
The scarred man at the desk rose to his feet, puffing his cigar as he squared his massive shoulders.
“Look, brother, is it really worth throwing your life away over a few thousand kronen?”
He assumed He Ye had returned to vent his rage over the shorted payment. He recognized the handsome face; the man had grumbled about missing half his kronen just minutes ago.
It was an act of pure idiocy. The Pavlo Credit & Loan Company had twenty to thirty enforcers stationed in the building. Suicidal bankrupts storming the lobby were nothing new; they had protocols for handling them.
He Ye merely continued forward, his eyes burning with quiet fury. “Where is your boss?”
“Third floor,” a short thug blurted out instinctively, nearly snapping to attention.
“Hey?!” The scarred man whipped around. “Are you a fucking idiot?!”
“Uh, sorry boss, slipped out…” The short thug scratched his head helplessly.
He Ye offered the short man a cold, humorless smile. “I won’t bust your balls later, my friend.”
The remaining thugs sucked in a sharp breath.
“Holy shit…”
“You arrogant little shit!” The scarred man spat his cigar onto the floor, cracking his knuckles as he advanced with a scowl.
He Ye said nothing, simply closing the distance.
Taking the silence as a challenge, the scarred man wound up his arm and threw a vicious right hook! It was a punch forged in countless street brawls—wild, unrefined, but terrifyingly fast and heavy! It was more than enough to put any cocky punk in the hospital!
Yet He Ye had survived years of covert warfare in Albion. His reflexes were one in ten thousand. With a single, miniscule step backward, he cleared the arc of the strike with millimeter precision.
The fist whistled past his cheek, missing by inches.
In the very next heartbeat, He Ye whipped his leg upward, burying his steel-toed boot directly into the scarred man’s groin!
Crack.
“Sweet… Jesus…”
The scarred man collapsed, his eyes bulging like saucers. His mouth stretched into a silent, horrified circle before his jaw clamped shut in agony, curling into a tight, shivering ball on the floor.
“M-Mama…” he wept, trembling uncontrollably.
“Who’s next?”
With barely a speck of dust on his cuffs, He Ye swept his frigid gaze across the lobby.
The surviving thugs backed away in unison, their jaws aching in sympathetic horror. The newcomer’s tactics were dirty and merciless, but his terrifying speed and precision had been plain for all to see. In a single exchange, he had dismantled Pavlo’s Fierce Tiger.
He was a lethal combatant.
Ding.
The elevator chime broke the silence.
The doors slid open, and a crowd of enforcers poured out, their hurried footsteps echoing through the lobby. There were dozens of them. They looked just as thuggish as the crew below, but many wielded iron pipes and wooden clubs, adding an air of violent menace to their numbers.
“Which blind bankrupt bastard has a death wish?! I’ll beat the shit out of you!”
“On your knees if you want to live!”
The thugs roared, their eyes wide with bloodlust as they glared at the lone intruder.
Surrounded by the expanding ring of enforcers, He Ye knew that bare-handed brawling against such numbers was tactical folly. His expression remained utterly composed as his hand slipped toward his pocket.
With a sharp flick of his wrist, he produced the forged badge and barked with thunderous conviction:
“Staff Sergeant Marlens, Team 4, Public Security Countermeasures Section, National Security Bureau! I have reason to suspect reactionary forces are operating within the Pavlo Credit & Loan Company! Under charges of illegal fundraising, illicit assembly, and seditious riot, this facility is now locked down! Any resistance will be treated as armed rebellion against the state!”
“Holy shit!!!”
The moment the badge was presented, all twenty-odd thugs flinched. The name of the National Security Bureau carried absolute terror!
Yet within seconds, one of the sharper thugs found his voice.
“Bullshit! An NSB raid with just one guy?! Our boss pays massive bribes every single month to grease the wheels! You can’t just raid and shut us down out of nowhere!”
“So you admit to criminal activity?” He Ye tucked the badge away with a cold smile. “That makes things much simpler.”
“…” The thug realized too late what he had blurted out, slapping his own cheek in panic. “Shit! My big mouth!”
Realizing He Ye was a lone fraud, the thugs let out a collective howl, surging forward like a pack of wolves. Two fists could never match four hands, let alone dozens of armed enforcers. He Ye’s fate seemed sealed!
“Kill the bastard!”
Bang!
The sharp, deafening crack of a gunshot ripped through the lobby.
He Ye stood with his black pistol raised, smoke curling from the muzzle. He had fired a single shot squarely into the groin of the lead enforcer. The round struck with pinpoint accuracy.
A second later, the man was writhing on the marble floor, shrieking in pure agony.
“Aaaaargh! My balls! Sob…“
He howled like a cartoon cat that had stepped on its own bear trap.
The remaining thugs were struck dumb with terror, scrambling backward as they sucked in sharp breaths of horror.
“A gun?! H-He has a gun?!”
“Is he really from the NSB?!”
“That’s impossible! President Pavlo just told us yesterday we had free rein to do whatever we wanted…”
The enforcers descended into chaotic murmurs, their faces pale with dread.
Confronted with the cold reality of a firearm, none dared take another step forward. The first shot had put down the loudest mouth; there was no telling where the second would land. Clubs and pipes were useless against lead.
Just then, an even sweeter sound echoed from the entrance.
“Officer! Riley reporting for duty!”
A jubilant cry rose from behind He Ye. Riley came barreling into the lobby, panting heavily but grinning ear to ear as he delivered a clumsy, crooked salute.
Though Riley was greeted by the sight of shattered glass, blood-slicked tiles, groaning men on the floor, and a tense ring of armed enforcers, he showed zero fear.
Behind him stood more than thirty ragged vagrants from the slums. They were rough, durable, and above all else, utterly fearless in the pursuit of cash!
“Is that the ten-thousand-kronen officer?!”
“That’s him!”
Riley had no idea why this officer had charged in alone without waiting for his reinforcements, but that gunshot had been audible from several streets away! For ten thousand kronen, they didn’t give a damn who they had to fight!
“Excellent.” He Ye lowered his gun and glanced over his shoulder.
He surveyed the mob of vagrants behind him as though reviewing an imperial legion, before turning his gaze back to the terrified thugs ahead.
Once more, He Ye brandished the forged badge, his voice ringing with absolute authority:
“By the power vested in me as Staff Sergeant Marlens of the NSB Public Security Countermeasures Section, I hereby grant you full deputized authority to assist in this investigation! You are authorized to beat every single thug before you to a bloody pulp! You bear zero legal liability!”
“Charge!”
He Ye swept his arm forward!
Instantly, the lobby erupted into unbridled chaos!
“For the peace of Glailey City!”
“For public security!”
“For the cash!”
“Fuck these bastards! I’ve hated their guts for years!!!”
The vagrants roared absurd battle cries of duty and brotherhood as they charged! Their bodies became weapons of sheer vengeance, their eyes burning with fury and greed as they threw wild haymakers.
The enforcers, already on the brink of panic, were crushed beneath the onslaught. The loan sharks were dragged down and pummeled without mercy; even those who attempted to swing their clubs were swiftly overwhelmed by a flurry of fists and boots.
The battle was entirely one-sided, though cleaning up the melee would clearly take some time.
Seeing the situation well in hand, He Ye calmly turned, picked up his trench coat from the threshold, dusted it off, and slipped it back on. Ignoring the bruised and bloody thugs writhing at his feet, he stepped forward into the building.
Passing a vagrant who was enthusiastically stomping an enforcer, He Ye patted the man on the shoulder. “Good work.”
“Thank you, sir!”
Tonight was destined to be a sleepless night for the Pavlo Credit & Loan Company. The grand ground floor was a swirling storm of brawling men, echoing with screams, laughter, groans, and curses, while shattered vases and blood-soaked rugs bore witness to the violence.
Yet none of it concerned He Ye.
He merely wanted to embrace his new life and ensure it got off to a proper start.
