[Chapter 532: Midnight Massacre, Rivers of Blood]
That night, Linton was hosting a lively party with Vivian Chow, recently busy with business gigs around Los Angeles, Michelle Reis, and Catherine, who had been practicing dance constantly at the estate. The four of them were in high spirits, enjoying the evening thoroughly.
By 11 p.m., the first round of the party wrapped up. With a subtle wave of his hand, Linton unleashed a small measure of his power, sending the three women into a deep, peaceful sleep. After dressing, he quietly made his way to the mansion's main hall, then instantly activated his Earth Movement Technique, burrowing underground and racing toward Compton.
...
Compton was actually not far from Beverly Hills -- barely thirty-some miles away in a straight line. Within ten minutes underground, Linton surfaced in Compton. As he expanded his spiritual awareness, the environment shocked him so much that he had trouble believing this was still Los Angeles. It felt more like an abandoned outpost on the edges of Africa.
Everywhere he looked, the neighborhood was rundown: broken streets, crumbling buildings, and throngs of homeless people roaming. Violent brawls erupted on the sidewalks over scraps -- a piece of bread, a clean shirt, or a decent spot to sleep sparked fights nonstop.
Except for the occasional flickering street lamp, there was no sense of modern life here.
Following the intel from Danny, Linton quickly pinpointed two critical locations.
...
One was the Venom nightclub, formerly a large shopping mall spanning three floors. The first floor had a massive dance hall where wild beats pulsed relentlessly, and distorted shadows of all kinds of depraved people danced wildly. Around the booths, scenes of degradation played out -- far more shocking than the most risque underground adult films.
Clenching his teeth to endure the disgust, Linton sealed off that area from his spiritual senses and turned his attention to the second and third floors.
The second floor was partitioned into a dozen or so private rooms; most were closed tonight, except for the five largest, which buzzed with chaotic parties. The debauchery there was even worse than downstairs.
The third floor housed various offices, all dark except for the main manager's office, brightly lit and guarded by four armed bodyguards.
Inside, Linton saw a tattooed, menacing black man perched in the boss's chair, a cigar clenched between his teeth. Before him sat four others: three bare-chested hulks, and one refined man clearly serving as the strategist.
They were in the middle of a heated discussion about robbing the specialty shop.
...
The man in the chair growled, "David, last month they pulled a fast one on us -- changed the delivery schedule last minute and wasted our time. This time, you better keep tight watch."
"Relax, Hank. I've got people tailing both airports. As soon as Linton's private jet lands, I'll know first," replied the smooth-spoken David.
"Do you think Linton could smuggle the Vitality Pills overland?" asked one of the bald bodyguards hesitantly.
"Impossible," another growled. "It's over a thousand miles by road from Parker County, Montana to L.A. Too many rival forces on the way. He's not stupid; he definitely wouldn't risk driving."
"Yeah. I'm one hundred percent sure Linton'll fly. Only two options: come back the night of 5th, hit his estate first, then transport the pills to the shop the following day. Or he flies in the morning of 6th and heads straight to the shop from the airport."
"So, the best ambush points are on the routes out of the airport," the first manager concluded. "We send two waves: one on the night of the 5th, one the morning of the 6th."
"Also, watch out for the other four gangs," David warned.
"Hank, any chance we join forces with them?" someone asked.
"Never. Even if they talk alliance, it's fake. When we snatch the pills, it'll be every man for himself."
"Fine. We each do our own thing. I'll assign troops to watch their backs."
"Retreat routes are set?"
"All checked. Once we have the pills, we'll head to the estate, take a helicopter to Ventura, then drive out of L.A."
"Good. Get everyone on alert. Anyone slacking... well, I'll cut them loose and feed them to the sharks."
Tony, who had been silent, suddenly chuckled, "Hey, Hank, I heard Linton's always got some jaw-dropping beauties around him -- like those you only see in movies. Maybe when we make our move, we should invite them along for a little fun?"
"Tony, shut your damn mouth," Hank snapped. "Right now, the Vitality Pills are priority number one. No distractions. If we survive this, then yeah, we can think about the women. If any beauties survive, fine -- grab them for ourselves, but no special treatment."
...
Hearing all this, a cold murderous resolve flourished inside Linton. He didn't bother parsing the nuances anymore. The party goers on floor one could remain ignored, but everyone on floors two and three definitely belonged to the Dark Horse Gang's core. They dared plot against him, so they deserved death.
Sure, a few on the second floor might be outsiders invited in, but anyone at that kind of party wasn't innocent.
Without hesitation, Linton took out the flying sword -- it instantly expanded to three feet and shot toward the third floor. In a flash, the four bodyguards at the door were decapitated before they could react.
The sword curved through a window, then blinked again; inside the office, five men died quietly, heads severed painlessly.
Next, the sword swept through five private rooms on the second floor. Partygoers met the same silent, brutal fate, none spared.
Linton counted -- 215 heads severed in the Dark Horse Gang alone.
With nobody noticing, he withdrew the sword and vanished underground again, heading for the Blood Gang's lair.
...
Surprisingly, their spot wasn't far -- just over four kilometers away -- and bore a similar layout: dance hall on the first floor, private rooms on the second, offices on the third.
Unlike the Dark Horse Gang, their ballroom was closed to outsiders tonight; all members were raucously partying in the main hall. The scene was far more depraved, with several couples broadcasting live from center stage. Whispered gossip said these were the Blood Gang's leaders, including the boss himself.
They were holding a pre-war rally -- the big battle was in two days. This bizarre display was their twisted way of motivating the troops.
Linton didn't bother analyzing such degeneracy. His flying sword flashed like lightning, sweeping through the hall, dropping head after head in a crimson rain.
Within moments, 227 went from lively revelers to lifeless corpses.
Again, he vanished underground, speeding toward the Red Bandana Gang's base in central Gardena.
...
Before leaving, a glance back at the Dark Horse Gang revealed no signs of disturbance. Considering it took less than five minutes from start to finish, and that their floor-one rabble was too lost in their own frenzy to notice upstairs carnage, it made sense.
Upon reaching Gardiner, he swept the area with his senses, following the address. It didn't take long to locate a sprawling manor tucked away in the outskirts.
The place sat deep in a remote pocket of land, far from any other buildings -- the kind of isolation that made it ideal for hiding all sorts of rotten business.
Under Linton's senses, the situation inside became clear. There were 137 people in total, all armed, mostly with pistols and AK-47s. He even picked up one sniper rifle.
Linton was at a loss. How these people found the confidence to travel all the way to Los Angeles to pull off a gun robbery with such flimsy firepower was beyond him.
It wasn't a matter of looking down on them. Even if they somehow managed to snatch the Vitality Pills through sheer luck, there was no way they could outrun the pursuit of the other four gangs.
Maybe because they weren't on their home turf, this Chicago crew didn't hold any big celebration.
Still, hardly anyone was resting. Each had gone off to entertain themselves.
Some gathered in small or large groups to play cards and gamble.
Several rooms were filled with people smoking.
And, of course, some were indulging in base pleasures. The women with them were in terrible shape, covered in bruises. It was impossible to tell whether they were prostitutes or victims taken from nearby towns.
Inside the manor's most lavish office, a broad-shouldered, bearded man was reviewing intelligence and discussing their next moves with four subordinates.
Judging by his bearing, he was clearly the leader of the Red Bandana Gang.
Linton couldn't fathom why someone with such limited strength would travel all the way from Chicago. Was there some hidden reason?
He sank underground and emerged directly in the office's study. With a burst of magic, he froze all five men in place. The bearded leader couldn't utter a sound, but terror flickered wildly in his eyes.
Linton didn't bother wasting words on people who were already as good as dead. Using his Soul Induction, he asked, "Why did you come to Los Angeles?" At the same moment, he released the bearded leader's mouth.
"We came to rob the Vitality Pills."
"Who sent you?"
"No one. We heard about the price and shortage of Vitality Pills, so we figured we'd come and make a big score."
"With so few people, did you really think you could take on the local gangs? Even if you pulled it off, weren't you afraid they'd band together against you?"
"When we first arrived, we planned to work with the Blood Gang and the Dark Horse Gang, but they both tried to take everything for themselves. We had no choice but to act alone."
"One more thing -- suppose you succeeded. What was your plan afterward?"
"I already prepared an escape route. Once we got the goods, we were going to take a boat straight to Catalina Island, thirty-five kilometers away. It's a smuggling hub. All deals there use overseas accounts. It would've been easy to sell something like the Vitality Pill."
This guy showed a bit of brain, but not nearly enough. They hadn't grasped that this was a game far beyond their level. Anyone drawn in would face certain death.
Even if they somehow pulled off the heist, their pitiful escape plan was no match for FBI hunting them down.
Linton's thoughts spiraled -- was the FBI and L.A. Police ignoring all this on purpose? Playing some long game, waiting behind the scenes to swoop in and seize the pills themselves?
The idea made sense. Otherwise, why would five criminal factions openly plan robbery under daylight, with zero law enforcement interference?
Greed makes strange bedfellows. Regardless, this poker game was about to end in blood, and Linton was intent on delivering a bloody spectacle they wouldn't forget.
Blade flashing, the flying sword was unleashed again, slicing through heads, showering vivid bloodflowers. But he spared the few battered young women who'd been abused -- though the rest of the gang members, including barking wolves guarding the estate, met the same severed fate.
...
After erasing every trace and scent, he vanished underground once more, heading for the Scorpion Gang's sprawling estate outside town. Over 120 members were gathered there, but unlike the other gangs, these men kept quiet, each resting in their rooms.
In the most lavish room, a fierce young leader studied a map of Los Angeles, marking routes and plans. This wasn't any ordinary gang -- they'd quickly risen to power in San Francisco by seizing the right moment.
Yet, if this boss was so savvy, why come here to make trouble?
His curiosity peaked, Linton surfaced in that room and instantly cast Soul Induction on the young man.
"Why did you come to L.A.?" he probed.
"...To take revenge."
"Revenge? On whom?"
"Linton. He killed my father. I have to pay him back..." The man spilled out the story.
He was the son of the Black Tiger's former leader, who was wiped out years ago at a Montana ranch. After that, the San Francisco faction weakened and fractured amid betrayals and external attacks.
Seeing the writing on the wall, this son took core followers and the clan's wealth quietly to start the Scorpion Gang.
In just three years, they rose as the biggest power in San Francisco.
He didn't question why his father risked so much to go after Linton -- he only believed Linton was the cause of the Black Tiger's ruin, making him their sworn enemy.
He hadn't dared target Linton before, since the superstar's guards made it impossible and law enforcement scrutiny was overwhelming.
But hearing about multiple gangs planning to rob Linton's Vitality Pills, he thought this chaos provided a perfect chance for revenge.
So their mission was primarily to strike at Linton -- not just the pills. However, if fortune favored them and they could snatch the pills, they wouldn't pass it up.
Listening to this, Linton silently scoffed at their flawed logic. They could spill blood wherever, slaying as they pleased, but the moment someone fought back, they became mortal enemies.
No matter. Such foes couldn't remain. Summoning the flying sword again, Linton unleashed a crimson storm of severed heads, leaving nothing alive.
...
Finally, he reached the Mule Gang's farm in Agua Dulce. According to Danny's files, drug trafficking was their core business, executed with brutal cruelty.
Linton's spiritual senses confirmed their dangerous arsenal: M2 machine guns, M1919A4 heavy machine guns, sniper rifles, and alarmingly -- two RPG rocket launchers, capable of taking down armored vehicles.
But since they'd crossed him, their end was sealed.
The flying sword soared through, exacting retribution on all 262 members without sparing a soul or beast.
...
After finishing, he felt a rare exhilaration. Counting the heads cut directly by his sword that day, a staggering total of 1,037 victims fell.
Had he just played the hero, purging the streets to restore peace to Los Angeles?
Such a terrifying spectacle should intimidate any other would-be troublemakers.
He hoped the FBI and L.A. Police could handle this bloody gift.
The only regret: these foes were far too weak to present any real challenge, more like ants crushed underfoot.
...
Glancing at the clock, it wasn't yet midnight.
Quietly, Linton returned to his estate.
Such a victorious moment demanded celebration.
He gently roused Vivian Chow, Michelle Reis, and Catherine from their slumber for another wild party.
The three barely registered the night's horrors as they lost themselves once again in the intoxicating revelry...
*****
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