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Frank D'Amico investigated for a long time, but there was no progress at all.
In the end, the matter could only be dropped.
To maintain his client network, he had Joe source a new batch of product from elsewhere to plug the gap.
…
On Jimmy's side, training never stopped.
Damon drilled him relentlessly.
How to use shadows.
How to approach without leaving a trace.
How to read a building's basic structure, so he could choose favorable escape routes or hiding spots.
Quick outfit changes.
Blending into crowds.
Breaking the line of sight and shaking off surveillance.
Jimmy learned fast.
And he improved even faster.
After such a long period of training, Damon finally let out a sigh of relief.
Jimmy was finally starting to look passable.
Next came a real-world application.
By now, the warehouse construction was nearly complete.
For reasons unknown, Damon still chose to train Mindy during his spare time.
Mindy enjoyed training with Jimmy as well, although from Jimmy's perspective, most of her drills felt more like playtime.
The second underground level gradually took shape through the combined efforts of Jimmy and Damon.
The space was large.
Besides a storage room, there was a training area and a hidden passage leading into the sewer system.
Jimmy was very satisfied.
Watching the storage room fill little by little filled him with a powerful sense of accomplishment, one that completely absorbed him.
"Jimmy!" Damon said one day. "You've trained long enough. It's time for practical application."
He laid out the objective clearly.
"Tonight's targets are these people. They're responsible for distributing Frank's product!"
"If we take them out, Frank will be in chaos for a while."
Damon's tone grew serious.
"This time, I'll only provide support, Everything else is on you!"
"That includes tracking down their addresses yourself."
He paused deliberately, then continued.
"Consider this your graduation exam."
"If you pass, we continue as a team."
"If you fail, I take Mindy and leave."
"You are not fit to be a superhero."
Jimmy froze.
"…Fine," he said after a moment. "I'll find them myself."
He muttered under his breath.
"You're making it sound like I need you. Shouldn't it be you needing my support?"
Still, he had to admit it.
Damon's training had helped him tremendously.
As Damon liked to say, Jimmy now operated with a very Texas dirty-cop style.
Damon himself hadn't been idle either.
Using the scrapyard, he had pieced together several decent vehicles and hidden them away.
That night, Jimmy geared up.
The mask was essential, as was the bulletproof vest underneath, Damon had insisted.
"Tonight, I'm just the driver," Damon said, slowly pulling the car to the curb. "Where to?"
"All right," Jimmy replied. "I'll get the information myself."
He sat in the passenger seat, watching pedestrians hurry past on the street.
Then he saw it.
Several thugs grab a homeless man and drag him away.
Jimmy immediately thought of the homeless people used in Frank's factories.
"Follow them!" he said sharply.
They soon arrived at a secluded area.
Jimmy opened the door and walked straight toward the thugs.
"Hey," he said calmly, "I suggest you let him go, Otherwise, you're going to regret it!"
One of them laughed loudly.
"Dressed like that? What, you think you're a superhero?"
"Go home, kid! Playing hero around here gets you killed!"
…
A few minutes later, Jimmy wiped the blood from his blade and returned to the car.
"Rose Bar. Now!"
As expected, they were low-level thugs under Frank's command, responsible for capturing people.
The factory was still under construction, so Frank had ordered them to stockpile labor in advance.
Jimmy had gotten exactly the information he needed.
Rose Bar was one of their strongholds.
After arriving, Jimmy quietly moved into the alley behind Rose Bar, carefully avoiding the homeless people sleeping along the roadside.
As expected, there were two low-level thugs guarding the back door.
Jimmy paused to think.
He opened a bottle of alcohol, rinsed his mouth, and then poured some over himself.
With the bottle in hand, he staggered unsteadily toward the back door.
The two thugs were smoking.
Seeing a drunk sway toward them from the alley entrance, one of them cursed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a knife.
"Don't!" the other stopped him. "Grab him and send him to the factory. Don't you know the boss is short on labor lately?"
"Right, one guy's worth five thousand."
The man put the knife back into his pocket. Both of them walked toward Jimmy with ill intent.
"Hey, buddy! You—"
The moment he grabbed Jimmy, his heart sank.
Jimmy's eyes were completely clear.
There was no trace of drunkenness.
And that mask.
One look told him this wasn't some random drunk. This looked like a superhero.
He opened his mouth to warn the other—
But three sharp claws extended from Jimmy's fist.
Blood and foam filled his mouth and nose.
"Quick, help me hold him, tie him up. We'll send him over after our shift."
Jimmy propped the man up and moved closer to the other thug.
In a flash, he struck.
A single punch landed on the man's neck.
Both thugs were pinned against opposite sides of the wall.
Jimmy lifted his head and glanced at the third floor.
Based on experience, the third floor was likely their office.
He rubbed his hands together.
With a powerful leap, he grabbed the second-floor windowsill, pressed close to the wall, and climbed rapidly to the third floor.
He drove a dagger into the wall to create a foothold, then silently approached the window.
Inside, voices drifted out.
"Boss Sal, this is the money we've recovered recently. We really need more product soon, or we're going to lose all our clients."
"That's not your concern," the man called Sal replied. "The shipment will arrive in a few days. The factory is under construction. Once it's done, we won't have to work like this anymore!"
Bingo.
Luck was on his side. He had found the main target immediately.
Using the reflection in the glass, Jimmy surveyed the room.
Twelve people in total.
Downstairs, loud music thundered nonstop. This room, however, had decent soundproofing.
Even if gunshots rang out, they wouldn't carry And even if they did, the music below would drown everything out.
Jimmy glanced at the window to his left.
He pulled a smoke grenade from his pocket and tossed it through the right-side window.
Then—
He sliced open the screen on the left window and vaulted inside.
Blades flashed.
"Whoosh... Whoosh... Whoosh…"
In moments, everyone inside was slaughtered.
Jimmy didn't need to look.
He could locate everyone purely by sound.
In the thick smoke, he eliminated all of them without taking a single hit.
He pulled out the photos and checked carefully.
All primary targets were present.
Mission complete.
He gathered the money, splashed gasoline around the room, and rigged the door handle to a lit candle.
Then he leapt out the window, tossed the two unconscious thugs from the alley into the third-floor room, and landed lightly.
After checking his surroundings, he walked out of the alley and got into Damon's car.
"Let's go. It's done."
"How did you set up the third floor?" Damon asked.
"A simple incendiary setup," Jimmy replied calmly. "Candle plus gasoline. They won't be saving anyone."
"All right. We'll see the results tomorrow."
Damon drove off.
After returning, Jimmy explained everything in detail.
How he got in.
How did he deal with the two guards downstairs?
How did he clear the third floor?
Then, he waited for Damon's evaluation.
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