The women around him were Roy's Achilles' heel, so this time Roy acted with unusual ruthlessness, fully intending to cripple the men in black.
However, these guys in black weren't good people either. According to the Eye of Judgment, all four of them were heinous criminals.
They were similar to those in the Dark Web organization, deserving to be shot ten times over.
The leader of the men in black, with Roy's hand around his throat, was terrified.
"What... what kind of monster are you?"
"I don't care what I am. All you need to do is tell me who sent you!"
Roy's hand around the man in black's neck gradually tightened, and the man immediately felt like he couldn't breathe.
At this moment, Dahlia patted Roy on the shoulder.
"Roy, there's a child here!"
Roy looked at Cici, who was looking at him with a frightened expression, seemingly scared by the look on his face.
This kind of interrogation scene wasn't good for a child to see, so Roy loosened his grip on the man in black's neck.
"You guys go back to the Dolphin Hotel first. Explain the situation here to Gerald Allin, and I'll take care of the rest."
Heather and Penny nodded, then pulled the other women straight towards the Dolphin Hotel.
One of the men in black had just fired a gun, and the sound had already carried, so they needed the FEA to clean up the scene, otherwise there might be some trouble.
After the women left, Roy grabbed the leader of the men in black and dragged him away from the scene.
"Look into my eyes. Who sent you?!"
His dark gold pupils released the Shadow of Fear. With Roy's current abilities, fully unleashing the Shadow of Fear could scare someone to death.
The man in black was so scared he wet his pants right there.
"The owner of the Black Shark Bar nearby sent me! Don't kill me! Don't kill me!"
Roy sneered. Killing him directly was out of the question, since too many people had seen what happened, but breaking his limbs was still an option.
He threw the man in black on the ground, stomped on his limbs to ensure he wouldn't be causing trouble for the rest of his life, and then headed towards the Black Shark Bar.
The Black Shark Bar was a fairly well-known bar on Santa Monica Beach. Roy had seen it before while strolling around, but he hadn't been inside.
Roy wasn't really that interested in drinking. He would only have a few drinks for social purposes, like when Gerald treated him or at events like those hosted by Sangiovese.
The environment in bars is so mixed and complicated; it really wasn't suitable for a pure young man like Roy (?).
Arriving at the entrance of the Black Shark Bar, two burly guys with thick waists stood guarding the door. The moment they saw Roy's face, they guessed he wasn't 21 yet.
Roy's face was really too young-looking. Although not as extreme as that elementary school basketball player nearing thirty who gets carded at bars, you could still tell he was only in his teens.
"Kid, you gotta be 21 or older to get in here. Why don't you go home and drink your milk!"
Roy looked at the two security guards with a smile.
"Your boss told me to come! If you guys aren't gonna let me in, that's fine. I'll just head back."
The two security guards exchanged a look and stopped Roy, who was about to turn around.
"Wait a minute. You said our boss told you to come? Are you a relative of his?"
"Of course not. Your boss just sent four guys in black to find me and told me to come to the bar to meet him. Didn't you know?"
The two security guards actually did know about this, because those four men in black had just walked out of here, and they had even asked them where they were going.
But one thing seemed strange to the two security guards: four men in black went to find Roy, but none of them had returned.
"Where are Eisen and the others?"
"You wanna know? I'll tell ya!"
Seeing the two security guards lean in, Roy threw two incredibly fast punches, sending them off work early for a nap.
After doing all this, Roy saw a security camera, so he gave it the international friendly gesture.
Walking into the Black Shark Bar, Roy saw a lot of people smoking weed and doing drugs.
This was another reason why Roy didn't like going to bars. He really couldn't stand these drug addicts; seeing them just made him feel disgusted.
Roy didn't bother looking for that damn bar owner, so he went straight to the bar and sat down, waiting for the bar owner to come to him.
Before his butt even hit the stool, a flamboyant middle-aged man wearing big sunglasses late at night and a floral shirt approached with a dozen or so goons. Each of these goons had bulging waistlines, clearly carrying guns.
"Whoa! No wonder you're called 'Reaper' Blake! Did you take down those guys I sent? What a bunch of losers!"
Roy narrowed his eyes at the flamboyant middle-aged man, knowing he was the one in charge.
"Who are you?"
"Vincent Diaz. I'm the owner of this bar, and the godfather of the Diaz family!"
Usually, when someone refers to themselves as being part of a certain family, it's typically an Italian gang, you know, the Mafia.
But it's already 2000! Even Al Capone, who was at the height of his power in Chicago, couldn't escape the IRS's clutches. What's this guy trying to pull?
Plus, after America passed the Organized Crime Control Act in 1970, traditional gangster organizations went downhill fast. The Mafia members who could launder their money and go legit did, and all that's left are some loose black street gangs.
Roy doubted this guy in front of him who called himself the godfather of the Diaz family. He was probably just Italian, started a gang, and then declared himself a Mafia godfather.
"Oh? So, Mr. Diaz, what can I do for you?"
Vincent Diaz walked over to Roy with an air of arrogance.
"The Santa Monica Cup's been pretty hot lately, right? I was thinking of setting up a betting pool, and your odds are the lowest, so I wanted to work with you. Throw a match, and I'll give you some cash afterwards. What do you say?"
So, he wanted to bet on the side!
The popularity of the Santa Monica Cup had attracted the attention of gangsters, and various side bets had sprung up as a result.
But Vincent obviously wasn't satisfied with that small cut, so he wanted to play for bigger stakes.
Because of Roy's outstanding performance these past few days, his odds were the lowest among all the competitors, and there were the most side bets on him to win. If he unexpectedly lost the next match, it would definitely make Vincent a ton of money.
Roy narrowed his eyes, pretending to look a little tempted.
"So, Mr. Diaz, how much money are you willing to give me?"
"A hundred grand!"
Vincent had an expression on his face that said, "Aren't I generous?" He even wiggled a bit.
Roy laughed out loud. Vincent thought Roy had agreed, but he didn't expect Roy to suddenly grab his head and slam it into the bar.
Once, twice, three times...
While slamming his head, Roy was cursing him out.
"You piece of trash! You actually thought you could bribe me, your future boxing champion, with only a hundred grand?! You can take that money and shove it! And you dared to threaten my women! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"
Roy's sudden outburst caught Vincent's men off guard. By the time they reacted, Vincent's face was covered in blood.
"Damn it, aren't you gonna help me?!"
Vincent's painful wails woke up his men, and a dozen or so goons pulled out their handguns.
"Let go of our boss right now!"
Roy suddenly turned his head, his dark gold pupils like the eyes of an ancient beast, instantly giving all the goons the feeling that their hearts had stopped.
Immediately after, the goons felt like the guns in their hands had turned into the things they feared most, and they were so scared they threw their handguns on the ground.
Then, Roy rushed into the group of goons like a tiger entering a flock of sheep, simply throwing punches and kicks without needing any technique.
But anyone Roy touched would at least suffer a fracture.
In just a minute, a dozen or so goons were knocked to the ground.
Vincent, who had just come to his senses, was completely dumbfounded. He had never seen anyone so good at fighting, not even the main characters in action movies were this exaggerated.
Vincent finally realized he had messed with someone way out of his league, like kicking a steel plate, a military-grade special steel plate.
Roy grabbed Vincent by the hair and pulled him up.
"Now, we can have a good talk about the issue of emotional distress!"
Vincent: ???
I'm the one who's been getting beat up the whole time, why do I have to pay for emotional distress?
But seeing Roy's fierce eyes, he really didn't dare to say that.
"How much do you want?"
Roy sneered.
"Why don't you try getting back to your feet? I really liked that arrogant attitude you had earlier."
Vincent gave a forced laugh, not daring to answer.
"As the future boxing champion, I deserve at least ten million in emotional distress compensation! If you can't come up with it, I'll tie you to a punching bag and use you for practice!"
Vincent's eyes almost popped out of his head. He was just a small-time gangster who owned a bar; where would he get ten million in cash?
"Mr. Blake, I don't have ten million in cash! Even if I sold this bar, it wouldn't be enough!"
"Cut the crap. How much money do you have?"
Vincent looked like he was about to cry. He knew he was going to have to pay a hefty sum today, and then there would be the medical bills for his men, which would be another expense.
Medical bills in America are terrifying, especially if you don't have health insurance...
Heh, you can ask the donut about that.
"There's only a little over a million in cash in the bar right now."
"Take me to it!"
Roy kicked and punched Vincent, forcing him to lead the way.
The customers in the bar who were still sober were a bit confused by the scene. After all, Vincent was usually so flashy, and many people knew him as the bar owner with connections to organized crime.
The fact that such a person was being beaten like a punching bag really made some people think they had smoked too much weed and were hallucinating.
Arriving on the second floor of the bar, they found an office that was very luxuriously decorated.
Roy immediately spotted the safe behind the desk and then dragged Vincent over to it.
"Open it!"
Looking like he was about to cry, Vincent opened the safe. Inside, sure enough, was a little over a million dollars, all in hundred-dollar bills.
Roy casually grabbed a black bag and stuffed the money into it.
"Is there any more?"
Vincent quickly shook his head, but Roy saw something in his eyes that told him the guy was still hiding something.
So, Roy slammed Vincent onto the desk again.
"You better come clean, or I'm gonna pull out all your teeth, one by one! You wanna try me?"
Everyone knows how painful it is to have a tooth pulled, and most people can't handle it without anesthesia.
Seeing that Vincent wasn't talking, Roy picked up a pair of scissor-like clippers from the desk. These were probably cigar cutters, usually used for cutting cigars, but they could勉强 be used to pull teeth.
Roy was a novice dentist with practically no technique, but he believed in the power of brute force and just yanked out Vincent's front tooth.
That must have been excruciatingly painful!
Vincent couldn't take it anymore right then and there.
"I'll talk, I'll talk, I'll talk! There's a hidden compartment under the desk that you can open!"
Roy punched Vincent unconscious. The guy was no longer of any use.
Under the desk, Roy indeed saw a wooden panel that looked a bit off, so he used the blood-stained cigar cutters to pry open the hidden compartment.
Inside, there were actually a few gold bars and some cocaine. This must have been Vincent's last stash.
Roy didn't bother with the cocaine and just put the gold bars into his inventory. That was good stuff.
But when he picked up the gold bars, a badge fell to the ground.
What's this...?
Roy picked up the badge and immediately recognized it as a membership badge for the Dark Web.
The Dark Web organization has always had a strict membership system, including that private club outside Austin. Only members can get in.
Vincent actually had a membership badge too. Could it be that there's a Dark Web branch here in Los Angeles?
Well, that wasn't entirely surprising. It would be strange for a bustling city like Los Angeles not to have the Dark Web.
Roy tossed the Dark Web badge back and then left the Black Shark Bar.
Being the upstanding citizen that he was, Roy walked out of the bar and made a phone call.
"Hey, is this little Roy?"
A playful voice came from the other end of the line.
"Ahem! Sister Elena, I'm not little! Didn't you notice that yourself the night before last?"
"Hehe, just kidding! What can I do for you?"
"Sister Elena, I found a bar that's hiding drugs, at least several kilos of cocaine. Are you interested?"
"Huh? Why are you suddenly talking about this? Did that bar owner bother you?"
Elena didn't seem too interested. After all, probably over eighty percent of the bars across America had drugs; the FBI couldn't possibly manage it all.
The most ridiculous thing is that the source of these drugs usually traces back to the CIA. What's the point of arresting anyone?
The FBI is only interested in big drug lords. Small operations like the Black Shark Bar are usually handled by the DEA.
"That bar owner wanted me to throw a fight, and he even threatened the people around me."
As soon as Elena heard this, she immediately got angry.
"What?! He actually wanted you to throw a fight! That damn guy!"
Elena knew that Roy was a promising former boxer. If people found out he threw a fight, his career would be over.
"Where's that bar? I'll bring some people over right away!"
"Sister Elena, I also found out something else: that bar owner is a member of the Dark Web."
Elena on the other end of the phone was silent for a moment before answering Roy.
"Oh, so he's a distinguished member of the Dark Web, huh? Well, then we'll have to give him the VIP treatment!"
These words were practically gritted out from Elena's teeth. This older FBI agent sister had suffered quite a few losses at the hands of the Dark Web organization.
Now that she was in Los Angeles without any superiors holding her back, it looked like Elena was out for revenge.
Roy gave the address of the Black Shark Bar and hung up the phone. He looked up and saw a shooting star streak across the night sky.
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