In fact, twenty out of the thirty or so people on Wade's hitman list were bullshit.
For example, even a retired guy like Kincaid was on it, which was enough to show how unreliable the list was.
Luke had asked the old guy through a secret channel yesterday, and it turned out that there were at least eight "legendary" hitmen on Wade's list.
To be exact, they had all left behind legends in the hitman world, but either there had been no news of them for several years, or it had been confirmed that they had retired or died.
For example, one of them, John Wick, who was an acquaintance that Kincaid had mentioned to Luke last time, had retired and gotten married a few years ago.
Like Kincaid, it was impossible for him to take on missions.
What was even more ridiculous was that there were a few acquaintances on the list.
Redback Spider Rebecca, Mister X, Firefox, Cross, these were all famous assassins of the Fraternity, or had been in the past.
Who knew how Wade had learned their names, but he had put them on the list as well.
Of course, Luke knew that these people wouldn't come to kill him, because secession and internal strife had been the main theme of the Fraternity for the past year.
Luke had even personally killed Mr. X. Could he turn into a ghost and come after Luke?
Seeing that Wade's nonsense was too outrageous, Luke smiled and turned around to give the guy a bad rap.
Thankfully, Wade had a lot of merits. Otherwise, Luke wouldn't have minded getting rid of this guy who gave out fake information.
In his life, he wasn't afraid of informants who asked for a high price, but he hated scammers who gave out fake information.
Thus, he had originally planned to provoke the hitman sightseeing group that had gathered in New York on his own, but the night before yesterday, it had turned into a double V.
In any case, Luke had money. He really didn't think that a mercenary who was desperate for money would have the willpower to resist the temptation of 2.5 million.
Coupled with the 2.5 million after the fact, the double 250 was very suitable for a b * tch like Wade.
Of course, he didn't plan to screw Wade over.
A cheap mouth didn't deserve death.
Fine, it was because Luke rarely interacted with Wade, or he would also think that it was better for a cheap mouth to die.
If nothing unexpected happened, Wade would suffer a lot tonight.
But he would at most be seriously injured, and it wouldn't be that easy for him to die.
Watching Little Snail modify the operation plan on the virtual screen, Luke took a sip of the pu 'er tea in front of him. "I hope there aren't too many smart people."
There were too many smart people in the hitman team. His experience and credit points tonight would be greatly reduced, which would undoubtedly waste the preparations and plans he had made over the past few days.
Looking at the 3000000 experience points, Luke felt that he had to work hard.
Yes, Wade and Weasel, these wretched gay friends, had to work harder too!
…
At this moment, Weasel, who was in Harlem, was dumbfounded as he looked at the various people entering his bar one after another. His hair stood on end.
Although his shabby bar opened at noon, most people would choose to appear after five o 'clock.
But not long after the store opened at noon, only three to five regular customers arrived, and then a stranger appeared.
As time passed, more and more strangers appeared in his bar.
The bar, which could usually accommodate more than 30 people, had 60 people squeezing into it before 6: 30 pm.
The strange thing was that these people had all come alone, and had no intention of striking up a conversation with anyone else.
Also, these people either asked for water or drinks. Occasionally, they would order alcohol, but they didn't touch it at all. Most of them just sat there and played with their phones.
If that was all, Weasel wouldn't be unhappy.
The afternoon wasn't the peak time for him to sell fake alcohol, and it didn't matter if these people didn't order a second round.
But looking at more than 30 "familiar" faces among these strangers, Weasel felt that he had been exposed. Yes, these 30 people were all in the hitman intelligence report he had given Luke.
Were they all here to settle the score with him? But there shouldn't be more than 30 of them, right?
But why didn't they do anything? Weasel's heart pounded, and his legs trembled slightly, but he didn't dare make any sudden movements. He could only stay at the bar obediently.
Nobody asked for drinks, and nobody talked. The bar was as quiet as a graveyard.
A few of the regulars in the bar sensed the strange aura, and decisively got up and slipped away.
As gangsters, they were much more sensitive to danger than ordinary people, and had long realized that these strangers weren't to be trifled with.
Whether Weasel died or not had nothing to do with them, as long as they didn't throw their lives away.
Just as Weasel stiffened and broke out in a cold sweat, his phone suddenly rang.
The quiet bar suddenly became so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Everyone's eyes fell on him.
Weasel's hair stood on end, and he didn't dare move a single hair on his body. He simply stood there with a rag in one hand.
His phone rang until it was disconnected, but he didn't dare pick it up.
He noticed that disappointment flashed in many people's eyes.
Suddenly, his phone rang again.
This time, everyone in the bar looked away, no longer looking at him.
Weasel still didn't dare move.
"Hurry up and answer the phone. Put it on speakerphone, or you'll die." A voice that was suppressing its anger rang out in the crowd.
Stunned for a moment, Weasel looked at the people who still didn't move. Finally, he took out his phone and pressed the speakerphone button.
"V will appear in Swamp Park in the southwest corner of Staten Island at 6: 30 p.m. Remember to transfer the 500,000 to the account I left you," a female voice said quickly before hanging up.
Weasel: "Huh?"
There was a ding, and a text message notification rang out.
With that, the bar suddenly came to life.
Everyone got up and quickly headed for the door.
Weasel stared blankly at everything, his mind a mess. What the f * ck was going on?
Then, a woman walked up to him and stretched out her hand. "Give me your phone."
Weasel subconsciously handed her the phone.
The woman frowned. "Put it down."
Weasel quickly did as he was told.
The woman took out a tissue and picked up the phone with a disgusted expression. She opened the message, took out her Titanium phone, and took a picture. She then dropped Weasel's Nokia brick and left.
After ten seconds, Weasel looked away from the door. Looking at the bar, which was as quiet as a real haunted house, he shivered. "Did I run into a ghost? What's going on? "
…
Looking at the image on the drone video, Luke smiled. With this number, today's harvest wouldn't be small.
Selina's voice rang out. "Apart from the 65 people in the bar, there are seven people outside. They should be hitmen who work together."
"Got it. I'll be careful." Luke chuckled. "Besides, don't I have the 'strongest' teammate tonight? I trust him. "
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