My attributes are increasing infinitely - Chapter 460: Supreme Leader of the Black bull gang

Chapter 460: Supreme Leader of the Black bull gang

Ethan stood in the doorway with his shoulder leaning against the frame, and he regarded Drek with an expression that was almost gentle. There was a harmless smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and his face was spattered with crimson droplets that were slowly drying to a rusty brown.

“If you dare to run away,” Ethan said, and his voice carried that same calm, conversational tone that a man might use to discuss the weather, “I will find you from any corner of the world. And when I do, your ending will be a hundred times more terrifying than his.”

Drek’s legs had given out long ago. He was on his knees in the spreading pool of blood that crept across the floorboards, and his hands were pressed flat against the wet surface as though he might steady the spinning world. His head hung down, and his shoulders heaved convulsively as he vomited. The bile spilled from his lips and mixed with the blood beneath him, creating a sickening swirl of yellow and red.

Long moments passed before he could speak. Tears were streaming down his face, carving clean tracks through the grime and spatter.

“I will not run away,” he gasped, and his voice was a broken thing, barely human. “I will not run away.”

Even a cruel person like him, a man who had killed without hesitation and who had built his empire on the suffering of others, could not process the violence he had just witnessed. This was not killing, he understood dimly. This was something else entirely, something that belonged to nightmares rather than the waking world. To him, Ethan was like a demon that had crawled up from hell wearing a young man’s face.

“Good,” Ethan said, and he pushed off from the doorframe. “Gather everyone within two hours. You may leave now. Oh, and send someone to clean this up.”

Drek nodded, and his head bobbed up and down like a broken toy whose mechanisms had been overwound. He tried to stand, but his feet slipped in the blood, and he crashed down onto his hands again. He crawled to the door on his hands and knees, leaving smeared handprints behind him, and then he pulled himself upright using the frame. He did not look back. He could not bear to look back.

Two hours later, the main hall of the Black Bull Gang headquarters was filled to capacity.

Ethan sat on the central throne-like seat at the head of the hall. The chair had once belonged to Drek, a massive thing carved from dark wood.

Drek stood beside him like a subordinate, and his eyes remained fixed on the floor.

The other leaders of the gang stood in confusion, their faces a mixture of curiosity and wariness. They had never seen this young man before, and yet the atmosphere around him was suffocating. An invisible pressure pressed down on the room, forcing silence where there should have been questions and protests.

“I assume everyone is present?” Ethan asked calmly.

“Yes, sir,” Drek replied immediately, and his voice cracked on the last word.

“James has not returned for seven days,” Drek added carefully, as though offering information that might prove valuable.

“Understood.”

Ethan’s eyes swept across the gathered men, and each one felt the weight of that gaze like a physical thing.

“I am Ethan Hunt. From this moment forward, I will be the supreme leader of the Black Bull Gang. There will be no authority above me. The gang members will never answer to anyone except the leaders of the gang. Now, the structure of this organization will change. Only the higher-order leaders will remain. The rest of you will leave.”

There was no shouting in his voice. There were no threats.

Yet no one dared to object.

Several leaders looked toward Drek instinctively, seeking guidance from the man who had led them for years.

Drek lowered his head further.

“Obey,” he said, and his voice was barely a whisper.

And so they did. The lower-ranking members filed out in confused silence, and the door closed behind them with a heavy thud.

The meeting that followed lasted five hours.

During that time, Ethan learned everything about the lower levels of the city’s underworld. He learned how many gangs operated within the city, who controlled each district, and which organizations held real power behind the scenes. He learned about the corruption that flowed through the police department like a river, and he learned about the politicians whose hands were permanently stained with bribes.

He listened without interruption.

He asked questions only when needed.

Eventually, the conversation turned to something more interesting.

Certain powerful gangs, it seemed, possessed genetically modified super soldiers. These individuals had undergone experimental enhancements that allowed them to perform inhuman feats. They could lift vehicles with their bare hands. They could survive gunfire that would fell normal men. They could move faster than the eye could track.

The room grew tense as the information was revealed.

Ethan’s expression did not change.

“So the people with money are trying to reach the same height as the martial artists,” Ethan thought, and an amusing smile played across his lips.

After absorbing everything, he leaned back slightly in the chair, and the leather creaked beneath his weight.

“The Black Bull Gang will no longer rely on begging or petty crime,” he said. “From now on, we will manufacture and sell advanced weaponry.”

The words caused a ripple of shock through the hall.

Arms dealing was the backbone of the most powerful criminal empires. It required knowledge that was guarded like state secrets. It required connections that spanned continents. It required manufacturing capability far beyond what their small gang possessed.

“Sir,” one leader ventured cautiously, and his voice trembled slightly, “arms trading is controlled by the top syndicates. We do not have the resources.”

Ethan looked at him.

“You do not have to worry about that. Just prepare for what is coming next.”

His tone left no room for doubt.

Within his mind existed the knowledge of countless weapon systems. From simple firearms to advanced kinetic platforms, he understood their structure at a fundamental level. In this mortal world, there were few limits to what he could recreate.

The gang members swallowed hard, and their Adam’s apples bobbed visibly in their throats.

Could this young man truly elevate them to that level?

Drek stood silently, and fear and awe mixed in his eyes like oil and water.

“But before that, you all will have to become clean. I will not tolerate any kind of crime without my permission. Every one of you will join the gym, and you will make yourselves perfect within a month. Do what you need to do to achieve the goal. Drek, follow me.”

Ethan stood up after that, and the chair scraped against the floor.

If he was going to create a gang, they would have to be perfect. Imperfections would be pruned away like dead branches from a growing tree.

Drek followed him without asking any questions.

“How much money do we have right now?” Ethan asked as they walked through the corridor.

“Sir, we have around fifty thousand Federation credits,” Drek said, and his voice carried a note of embarrassment.

“So poor? Give me a list of some corrupt companies, some corrupt officials, and people like that who have a lot of black money,” Ethan said calmly.

“Okay, sir. The list will be ready within a day,” Drek replied, and he straightened his back as he spoke. After seeing Ethan’s confidence, even he started dreaming of becoming a member of an international-level gang. The fear was still there, buried deep, but the hope was beginning to sprout around its edges.

Ethan nodded and went outside. He wanted to visit the city to see the living quality of the people. From there, he would be able to learn many things.

Ethan started walking through the slum road, his feet crunching on the gravel and debris, and soon he emerged from the slum’s confines.

The city was far more sophisticated than he had thought it would be. The air was actually clean, scrubbed of the pollution that plagued most urban centers. The roads were clean, too, swept regularly and free of litter. It gave a Japanese vibe, with its orderly streets and efficient design.

He started walking through the streets, looking at people, hearing their conversations.

He was absorbing everything.

His main target was to find the level of corruption. The more corrupted it would be, the more funds he would be able to raise from squeezing them dry.

But to his disappointment, the people were far too civilized. They obeyed the law with an ease that suggested the law was worth obeying. The police officers who appeared here and there would talk to civilians with warm smiles, and the civilians would smile back.

Ethan could not hold back his curiosity any longer, and he stopped a passerby.

“Is the city always this peaceful?” he asked.