Hudson: …Do you think I’m an idiot? That’s a damn anti-slip handle! No matter how slippery it is, there’s no way this thing would fly across half the room and smash through the wall!
When his eyes fell on the young man’s hands, however, he immediately stepped back and bumped into his friends.
Walking to the door, Luke took the hammer out of the wall and smiled at the hooligans outside the door. “What’s up?”
They looked at how he was holding a sledgehammer in his right hand and an electric cutter in his left, and they stepped back.
If his hands slipped again, they would die.
After they took two steps back, a black shadow fell from the sky.
Bang! Bang!
There was a dull thud as a gray black substance sprayed over the ground.
“Oh dear, my hand slipped too. It didn’t kill anyone, did it?” A pleasant female voice came from the second floor.
If it were any other time, the hooligans would instantly be full of sweet talk at this voice.
Everybody, however, sweated hard and retreated a few meters to look up.
However, although the window on the second floor was open, nobody could be seen.
There was an overturned cement bucket where they had been standing before, and it was the cement inside that now covered the ground.
By a conservative estimate, the bucket of cement weighed ten kilograms.
If they hadn’t stepped back just now, it would’ve hit someone in the head.
Temple, who was sitting in the car, smiled bitterly.
She knew that the young couple wasn’t that simple.
Those who didn’t lack money but dared to live in Clinton either had blind guts or were very capable.
Given how relaxed and smart the couple were, they definitely weren’t the former.
Just now, she had seen Selina take a look out the window on the second floor, before bringing the bucket of cement over and throwing it down.
Her temper wasn’t as charming as her voice.
The leader, Hudson, had it the worst.
His head had almost been smashed open by the sledgehammer, and he was the closest to the cement, which had already turned his snow-white sneakers a splotchy gray.
Luke smiled apologetically. “Sorry for dirtying your shoes. How about you take them off and I’ll send them to the drycleaners?”
Hudson was about to fly into a rage, when he saw Charlie and Raqael standing by the door with anxious expressions, gesturing and mouthing silently at him.
The three of them often played together, and the way the two were gesturing was like a bucket of cold water over his head.
Hudson forced a smile and bowed. “So- sorry to bother you when you’re renovating. I have other things to do, so I won’t trouble you with the shoes. I know someone at the drycleaners, I’ll do it myself. Goodbye.”
He backed away as he spoke, and was eight to ten meters away before he turned around and ran off.
What a joke! Charlie and Raqael had been telling him: Run away. This is a “professional” who can kill you.
Clinton had poor law and order because there were many people with gray or even black characters who lived here.
Compared with those who killed for a living, or those super villains who killed for fun, hooligans like them could be considered good citizens.
It wouldn’t be the first time that hooligans who didn’t know their place pissed off the wrong people, only to have their entire families killed the next day.
They were just half-grown kids who could only rob passersby and steal things; they didn’t dare fight such a ruthless professional.
Just like that, the seven or eight hooligans ran off, leaving behind a trail of gray cement on the sidewalk.
Luke turned his head and looked at the two relieved kids on the side. “It seems those were your friends. Then, you’re responsible for cleaning up this mess. Don’t damage New York’s public hygiene.”
Charlie and Raqael looked at the cement which Luke was pointing at. “What?”
Wasn’t it that hot-tempered beauty who threw down the bucket? She was the one who ruined public hygiene. How did it have anything to do with them?
Charlie immediately raised his hand. “Boss, they’re not our friends.”
Luke smiled at him. “Really? Then, it’s very likely that my hand will slip the next time I see them.”
His sledgehammer seemed to stir when he said that.
Charlie looked at the lively hammer and swallowed.
After struggling with his thoughts for a moment, he nodded painfully. “I’m sorry. I remembered wrongly. They are indeed my friends. I’ll clean this up.”
Although he wasn’t as close to Hudson as he was to Raqael, they had grown up together, and he didn’t want to see their heads explode.
He was being obedient now because Luke had talked with his cousin, Temple, a few times in the last few days, and he didn’t deliberately keep his voice down.
From their conversations, Charlie heard Luke and Selina mention the names of several bigshots in the Clinton area.
But when they talked about these people, Luke and Selina weren’t like everyone else, who either bragged or asked around about them.
Instead, they wanted to verify these bigshots’ “glorious achievements” with Temple.
Also, when Charlie had been cleaning up the trash on the roof a few days ago, he happened to see Selina on the fifth floor with a bag.
His nose twitched, and he could confirm that there was a strong smell of gun oil from the bag.
Looking at the shape and size of the bag, he was certain that it could only be a gun inside.
Also, there were at least two rifles or shotguns in this big bag.
Normal people couldn’t keep rifles at home, and most gang members usually only had pistols.
Those who liked to keep rifles at home were usually military fans, professional gang members, mercenaries, or assassins.
Charlie was leaning toward the last possibility.
Unlike with other professions, where a fierce appearance was the best, assassins needed a harmless-looking disguise, which would save them a lot of trouble.
After a few days of interaction, Charlie realized that both Luke and Selina were very strong, and he was even more certain that they were “professionals.”
Thus, even though he had to work very hard, he didn’t dare leave.
Charlie felt a chill run down his spine when he thought of how Luke had said that he was a man of principles.
If he took this assassin’s money and ran off, what if the man killed him free of charge?
He even told his cousin, Temple, about his guess. She stared at him for a long time like he was an idiot, before she said, “Read more books when you have time. Don’t watch those assassin movies all the time.”
Charlie could only feel depressed. He and his cousin had never been on the same wavelength. They didn’t have anything in common.
Didn’t she understand that movies came from real life, and were even better than that?