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墨書 Inktalez
It seemed that Zhao Mingkun had not finished telling the story. I knew that Zhao Mingkun was only revealing part of the truth, keeping the rest hidden to ensure I stayed under the organization's control. But I wasn't angry; even a tiny clue was better than having none at all. I could always find someone in the department to continue the investigation later.
After a brief silence, Zhao Mingkun did not drive off but continued to wait for something. I turned to Zhao Mingkun and said, "Aren't we leaving? If those Union people find us still here, won't we be stuck? This is cheating and fraud."
"Just because they stole a little something, those people must die," I looked at Zhao Mingkun and continued, "I think your sins are far greater than theirs. Aren't you just asking for trouble?"
Zhao Mingkun raised a finger and said, "No, no, no! It's not that they want to kill us; it's that we want to kill them. I hope you understand this principle."
At those words, I felt a jolt of shock. A chill ran from my feet to the top of my head; Zhao Mingkun was holding back something significant. I had thought her purpose had ended here, but it turned out she wasn't looking for a share of the pie—she was here to smash the pot!
Once the pot was smashed, it would need to be rebuilt, and that was exactly what Zhao Mingkun intended to do; this was her deeper purpose. Seeing my incredulous expression, Zhao Mingkun smiled and said, "Standing in different positions and heights allows you to see different things. Poplar sees only a game; the other side sees only the interests of a Mafia. But I'm not like them. Although our organization can't compete with them right now, every organization starts small and grows. We must accelerate this process because time is not on our side."
At that moment, several cars passed by ours, heading straight for a nearby warehouse area. They were all stretch limousines; in Italy, I didn't even know what these cars were called, but just from their appearance, it was clear they exuded luxury and grandeur. Zhao Mingkun quickly pressed me down in my seat as we watched the long cars glide past.
I lowered my voice and asked Zhao Mingkun, "What exactly does your organization want? Are you trying to provoke a war? The Mafia has been in Sicily for hundreds of years. Although this is a small island with its own branch of the Mafia, any disturbance here could have far-reaching consequences! Have you considered the repercussions? Will Sicily let you off easily?"
As the convoy drove past, Zhao Mingkun lifted herself up and said to me, "What do you think I've been doing on this island all this time? All my arrangements have been leading up to today. To be honest, I don't care about such a trivial game; petty squabbles are utterly meaningless. If we're going to play, let's play big—what do you think?"
I shook my head; what else could I think? Things had already reached this point—my opposition wouldn't change anything. Zhao Mingkun's plan was layered upon layered; what we thought was an endpoint was merely her starting point. The depth of her scheming was beyond what anyone else could match.
I slowly said, "This small island may not be large in size, but it harbors several Mafia factions with intertwined interests that create utter chaos. Your visit seems like an excuse to participate in a game when your true goal is to sever these tangled roots! One Mafia faction is restless and hopes an outsider like you will stir up trouble here."
Zhao Mingkun snapped her fingers and replied, "Smart—you really are clever. Through simple conversation, you've managed to deduce all this; that's quite impressive. Indeed, from the very beginning, we devised a grander plan in conjunction with that old man’s scheme: participating in the game is just a facade; obtaining that box is also just a pretense."
"The box is merely a small part of the interests," Zhao Mingkun gazed out the window and continued, "What we want goes far beyond just that so-called box. This island has been silent for too long; without fresh blood injected into it, it will inevitably become a Dead Island—a lifeless Dead Island."
As she spoke, we saw someone approaching outside the car—it was none other than the middle-aged man who had been missing since we arrived on the island. At this moment, he reappeared before us. Dressed in a black suit with dark sunglasses and holding a black umbrella under his arm, he walked slowly toward our car.
Zhao Mingkun opened the window and elegantly asked, "How are things going?"
The middle-aged man slightly bent forward and replied in a deep voice, "Everything is ready. They just went in, and we are prepared to act at any moment. Looking at the sky, it seems like it's going to rain again. I've brought you an umbrella."
Zhao Mingkun nodded, opened the car door, and gracefully extended a hand. The middle-aged man, acting like a butler, took Zhao Mingkun's hand and gently pulled him out of the car while opening the umbrella. At that moment, light rain began to fall from the sky, as if signaling something.
I sighed; stepping out like this, I had no idea how much chaos would ensue. Zhao Mingkun led the way, with the middle-aged man holding the umbrella for him while I followed closely behind them. After walking a short distance, I noticed a row of people that Zhao Mingkun had brought earlier were already waiting on both sides. From their appearance, they had clearly been waiting here for quite some time; we just hadn't noticed.
Zhao Mingkun glanced at these individuals and said, "Brothers, are you all ready?"
The group remained silent but raised their guns in response. I looked closely; all the guns were of the same model and quality, suggesting they came from the same batch. The men were dressed in black suits, wearing black masks and even black hats, appearing uniform and imposing despite their silence.
Seeing this, Zhao Mingkun grinned widely, revealing a standard smile. He then addressed the group: "We've been here for a few days now. During this time, I've asked you to keep a low profile because there were many matters I hadn't settled yet. But now it's different; today, you don't need to be low-key anymore. You've hidden for so long; it's time to come out and stretch your legs."
"The target is that warehouse. The mission is to eliminate everyone inside without leaving a single one alive. Charge!" Zhao Mingkun shouted.
At this moment, we were only about a hundred meters away from the warehouse. The big shots from the Mafia Federation clearly didn't expect anyone to dare act on their turf; there wasn't even anyone guarding outside the warehouse. As soon as Zhao Mingkun finished speaking, these men surged forward like leopards.
Before my eyes was a sea of black; they moved swiftly like swallows gliding through the rain, piercing through the curtain of raindrops like black arrows shooting forward. Meanwhile, Zhao Mingkun walked slowly ahead, his gray tracksuit contrasting sharply with the middle-aged man's attire as he moved forward like a dull flower blooming in dark soil while people rushed past us.
After taking a few steps, I heard gunfire and shouts. The warehouse was located in a remote area with hardly anyone around; setting up an ambush here was perfect. Zhao Mingkun turned back to look at me and said, "Today, the history of this island will be rewritten. From now on, there will only be one Mafia here, and we will take root! Haha! Just thinking about it makes today feel like such a fine day!"
As he spoke, Zhao Mingkun drew his gun and quickly moved forward, saying, "On such a good day, shall we kill a few people to celebrate?"
A madman—completely insane. I even suspected that Zhao Mingkun might have split personality disorder. When we reached the warehouse, everything inside was beyond description; everywhere I looked was red—the ceiling was red, the stairs were red, and even the black cars inside were red.
Twenty or so corpses lay sprawled across the ground, and seeing this made it clear that a river of blood was not just a phrase. The blood pooled into small streams, slowly flowing out from the warehouse's main entrance, disappearing into the streets under the rain's relentless wash, leaving one feeling as if in a dream.
This was a one-sided massacre; the people inside had no capacity to resist at all. I stood at the doorway, hesitant to enter, while Zhao Mingkun boldly stepped inside. There were still some who had not yet died, moaning and calling out. Upon seeing this, Zhao Mingkun shot each of them without hesitation, clean and decisive.
An old man collapsed beside a car slowly reached out his hand, mumbling something. Unfortunately, he spoke Italian, which I could not understand; he was the last person still alive. Zhao Mingkun pointed her gun at her own head, pretended to pull the trigger with a smile on her face, then waved her hand in a gesture of resignation. Just as the old man tried to say something more, Zhao Mingkun shot him in the head.
"What was that old man saying?" Zhao Mingkun turned back to ask the middle-aged man.
The middle-aged man replied, "He said you broke the rules. Without rules, this place is hell! Sooner or later, you will all go to hell! Queen, let these bodies stay here; our mission is complete. Someone from the old man's side will come to clean up afterward."
Zhao Mingkun nodded, holstered her gun, and turned to leave.
The middle-aged man continued, "These people are dead; the old man is dominant here. His men will soon take control of this place completely. But have those big shots from Sicily agreed? They've upheld these rules for so many years only to have them shattered by us newcomers?"
Zhao Mingkun scratched her head and replied vaguely, "What did he say earlier? What rules? The old man is old; he should die. There's a saying: 'Old but not dead is a crime.' Rules? It's time we set our own."
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