Evil Awe-Inspiring 152 Bloody Washing 1

I sit in a seat near the window in a teahouse and look at the street with ease. It should be said that the Chinese Town is noisy and busy, but the typical architecture, in my opinion, is always permeated with so much local atmosphere. There is music that I don't understand at all playing in the teahouse. Ding Ding Dung, Yi Yi Ya...

I just look across the street with a cup in my hand.

In my pocket is the photo Papa 8 gave me. The picture shows a middle-aged man, about forty years old. In the photo, he looks kind, but there is a scar on his head, which completely destroys his temperament. Like many gangsters, he wears a gold chain of fingers around his neck.

Obviously, this photo was taken secretly, because he was sitting in a car with a cigar in his hand, with a proud look on his face.

His name is Sand Snake, a nick name for sure. He's one of the head of a local gang: Row's.

Row's is one of the most powerful gangs here.

I know that the goal Papa 8 gave me, that is, this Sand Snake, is not the main goal of he is going to attack the local gangs this time. He won't leave a very important thing to a new person like me.

But for me, this thing can not be failed, it must be successful!

Papa 8 was well prepared, and he gave me all the information about Sand Snake. I've studied for a whole day and found that he had a very fixed habit. Of course, this is almost a common problem for most men all over the world. Sand Snake is not Row's number one person, he can only rank third and fourth at most, because the biggest source of income in general: the drug, is not his responsibility. He is responsible for collecting protection fees for p.o.r.nography, tea houses, restaurants and other businesses in the vicinity.

This is also a matter that makes me sighing with emotion. These gangs dare only bully the people from the same country?

Sand Snake's l.u.s.t habit leaves me a very important message. He has a very favorite lover in this street.

I can see from the seat where I am sitting now. There is a barber's shop across a narrow street. This is a somewhat unorthodox place to decorate. The neon lights flas.h.i.+ng outside and the large-scale advertising posters are very fas.h.i.+onable, but there are some low level flavors inside. Some shampoo girls wear the pink T-s.h.i.+rts and jeans shorts, deliberately revealing naked legs, which is ambiguous. Especially T-s.h.i.+rts have long hems, which can even block shorts, which can make people feel s.e.xually attractive.

This place is a famous p.o.r.nographic place nearby. Its operator is one of the many mistresses of Sand Snake. He comes here almost every two or three days.

Of course, part of the revenue in this place belongs to Row's.

I have been sitting here all afternoon. The street is not busy, and there are not many pedestrians. In the narrow street, few cars come in and out in the afternoon.

The waiter is a very young Chinese boy. You may even wonder if he is an adult. Since last hour, he has looked at me with a suspicious eye from time to time. I know I've been sitting too long and been noticed.

I wear a very ordinary light-coloured coat, short-haired. A wide sungla.s.ses covering almost one third of my face, plus two false beards I deliberately put on my lips. I am sure that no one will know what I really look like unless he approaches me and looks carefully at me.

A pot of tea in front of me already tastes very light because it has been watered many times. I remain patient and still looking across the street.

From time to time, some suspicious-looking men came in and out of that place and seems to come here for make fun. I smoked cigarettes after cigarettes, and in the smoke I feel I myself like a poisonous snake waiting for its prey.

Finally, at six o'clock in the evening, the goal I've been waiting for comes! A black Ford slowly enters the street and stops at the door of that place. The driver jumps out of the car first, then pulls open the back door, and then I see Sand Snake comes out.

His real man looks fatter and stronger than in the photo. However, the face looks vaguely with a kind of gangster's unique fierce temperament, especially the scar on the forehead, vaguely glossy. Hair is also short, with only a layer of bruises. He touches his head and stride into the door.

I squint at the driver standing at the door smoking, then waited for about five minutes, I slowly stand up, and carefully pinch out the cigarette on my hand.

Slowly I push open the door, walk into the street, bow my head, walk slowly to the driver, and then walk past him without expression. I notice that he seems to glance up at me. There's a kind of scrutiny in his eyes, but he turns away after only one glance. I open the opposite store door and go in.

There's a narrow corridor in which two women in full make-up stand behind the counter, all dressed in long T-s.h.i.+rts and shorts, with a low neckline showing half of their b.r.e.a.s.t.s. When they see me coming in, I'm greeted by one of them immediately. She seems to greet me in Cantonese, but I don't understand. But I probably understand that she might ask me if I'm looking for a prost.i.tute. I just say "OK" briefly. She immediately leads me in and deliberately walks in front of me, twisting the slim snake-like waist.

Obviously, the chairs and mirrors for hairdressing outside are all furnished, and the boxes behind are the main places. I was taken to a small dark room in the back. There's no door in the room, but the outside is part.i.tioned by a lowered curtain. The woman leads me in, then goes out and lays down the curtain.

There's only one lounge chair in this small room, the kind where people can lie down and wash their hair. I carefully pull out a mask from my pocket and put it on, take off my coat, turn inside out, and put it on again. As soon as I had finished all this, the curtain is lifted and a girl in a very low bodice and skirt comes in.

I can't tell her age from the heavy makeup on her face. She wears slippers with a distinct look of fatigue, but reluctantly energetic. When she comes in, she suddenly sees a man standing in front of her in a mask. She's stunned. Her subconscious reaction is to shout. I have gone up and covered her mouth, and the other hand pinch her neck from the side, pull her hard and over, tie her with the elbow, and then raise my hand and give her a heavy knock on the artery behind her neck.

She groans and softens.

I loosen her, lift the curtain and go out.

The corridor is lined with almost identical rooms, with curtains hanging at the doors of each room and there are suspicious sounds coming from some of the rooms.

I walk slowly through the corridor, all the way inside, and then come to the end of it, which is a closed door. I give it a push, then pull a paper clip out of my pocket, straighten it, and jab it into the lock.

This kind of inferior door lock, stabbed twice, it's silently opened. I hear the music of an old Cantonese song and the sound of water.

I take a deep breath, crouch down, walk in gently.

It's obviously a separate compartment. On one of the retractable chairs, Sand Snake lays half on his back, facing upward, his face covers with shaving cream. He closes his eyes, put his hands on the armrests on both sides of the chair and tapping with the beats of the music from time to time. A woman with her back toward me is standing in the middle of the chair and the pool. From her back, she's very tall and has a slender waist like a snake. Carefully, she takes a brush and continues to apply shaving cream to Sand Snake's jaw. In addition, there's a razor on the edge of the pool.

Sand Snake is obviously in high spirits. His hands are sliding down quickly and touching up along the woman's calf bit by bit. I hear the woman's coquettish giggling. She knocks off Sand Snake's hands at will. Then she whispers something, twisting her waist to the pool and picks up the razor.

I wait quietly at the door, hiding behind the wall with only one pair of eyes. As soon as the woman turns around and come, I shrink back.

As the footsteps come closer and closer, the woman comes to the door. I immediately put my hand around her neck and pull her aside without making any noise. I hit her on the chin with a very accurate punch, which can cause a person to faint in a short time.

Then I go into the room silently.