My Manor

"Hey, looks like you can't sleep well again tonight," Moses Adams said jokingly, handing Jiang Hai a can of coffee.

Jiang Hai simply shrugged, opened the can without much concern, and took a sip.

He glanced up at the clock on the wall of the police station. The time was six, but it wasn't six in the morning; it was six in the evening.

Since leaving Phillips' office in Miami that morning, he had been at the police station for eight hours.

At this hour, the station was nearly empty. Only he and Moses Adams remained. Darlene and the others had left around noon. They were the victims in this incident, so after giving their statements, they were free to go.

As for Jiang Hai, as both a victim and the alleged perpetrator, he needed to stay a little longer.

Moses Adams had been busy all day—copying videos in the morning, taking notes in the afternoon, and searching for evidence for Jiang Hai. In reality, there was no concrete evidence.

Surveillance footage from the road, the auction house, nearby street vendors, and car cameras, along with the security guards' reports, all confirmed that the attackers had tried to hit Jiang Hai. When their attempt failed, they got out of the car and started shooting at him.

The facts were clear, but the only uncertainty was whether Jiang Hai shot after the man had surrendered.

Three out of the five attackers were dead. The first one was knocked down by Jiang Hai with a wrench, suffering from a brain hemorrhage, skull fracture, and severe concussion. He was rushed to the hospital after the police arrived. Moses Adams had just received an update: the man would now live with cerebral palsy and be bedridden for the rest of his life.

The only other survivor was the one whose limbs Jiang Hai had broken. This man, though injured, claimed that after being sent to the hospital, he had undergone surgery and was fully awake by six in the afternoon. He had already made plans to sue Jiang Hai.

The story he told was quite different. He said he and his four friends, all motorcycle enthusiasts, had driven to a motorcycle club when suddenly his brakes failed, causing him to nearly hit Jiang Hai. After stopping, his friends had gotten out of the car to check on Jiang Hai, but they claimed Jiang Hai had attacked them first, forcing them to fight back. They were overpowered and paralyzed, and despite the situation, they said he surrendered, only to be further beaten by Jiang Hai. They insisted that the police should seek justice for him.

It was hard to believe such a story, especially after seeing the surveillance footage and considering the attackers' criminal records. Some inexperienced officers might have fallen for the lies, particularly those with biases against foreigners.

Hearing Moses Adams' report, Jiang Hai couldn't help but laugh. They certainly knew how to turn things around.

Had he been killed in an accident by these people, their story might have had some merit.

Indeed, the brakes had failed on their vehicle, and they had planned to go to the motorcycle club.

If there had been no gunfight and they had simply hit Jiang Hai, it could have been an unfortunate accident.

However, the person who had orchestrated this attack was no amateur; if not a repeat offender, he had some brains.

Fortunately, the American police weren't all incompetent. The surveillance video clearly showed that when the attackers first hit Jiang Hai, they got out of their car before he had even fully stood up. They drew their guns immediately and started shooting.

If their version of events were true, why would they have had guns ready?

They didn't wait for Jiang Hai to attack. As soon as they got out of the car, they opened fire. And later, when they attempted to rob the commercial vehicle, it was only right that they were shot by Jiang Hai.

Jiang Hai had acted within his rights when dealing with those four men. The only issue was that he had crippled one of them.

"This isn't going to be easy to wrap up," Jiang Hai said, tossing the empty coffee can into the trash. He glanced at his watch before speaking to Moses Adams. "It's not over."

Moses Adams knew exactly what Jiang Hai meant. He wasn't talking about the attackers not being finished; he meant that Jiang Hai wasn't finished yet. He had known Jiang Hai for over six months, and he could tell when his friend was truly upset.

This time, death had almost caught up with him, and Jiang Hai wasn't going to let this go easily.

"I can handle the legal matters, but I might not be able to do much beyond that," Moses Adams sighed. It wasn't that he didn't want to help, but as a lawyer, there were limits to what he could do.

"I understand. Tell me everything you know," Jiang Hai replied. "I can't rely on the police for help. We're on our own if we want revenge."

Moses Adams lowered his voice, looking around before speaking again. "I've heard that these people may be involved in some underground dealings in Miami. Many of them have criminal records, but who exactly is behind them, or why they targeted you, I don't know. Someone here might know more."

Jiang Hai's eyebrows rose at the mention of this. This was exactly what he wanted to hear.

"You can leave now, but don't leave the country just yet. We'll need your cooperation when the case is presented," the officer said. Jiang Hai was a significant taxpayer in Winthrop, so the police there were friendly, but here in Miami, they were indifferent.

Jiang Hai didn't care about their cold attitude—he no longer relied on the police.

It's said that a gentleman's revenge is never too late, but Jiang Hai was no gentleman. He was a villain, and he took revenge from morning to night!

After leaving the police station, Jiang Hai called Afra and the others to let them know he was safe. Then, he got into a Cadillac Moses Adams had rented. As Moses started the engine, he drove Jiang Hai through the slums of Miami. Along the way, Moses explained their destination.

"We're headed to the Devil's Bar. I got the gun and spear gun for you from here last time. I have a middle school classmate who works as a supervisor here. He's not reliable, but for the right price, they'll get you whatever you want." Moses explained as he drove.

Jiang Hai nodded. All he wanted was information.

Soon, they arrived at the Devil's Bar, located deep in the slums. Surprisingly, it wasn't the desolate, dangerous place Jiang Hai had expected. In fact, the area was thriving, with luxury cars parked on every street corner.

Jiang Hai even spotted Maseratis, Ferraris, and Porsches. The people walking around were dressed in bright, fashionable clothes. The neighborhood appeared far more prosperous than its reputation suggested.

"This place used to be a dump, like other slums. But the boss here is a smart guy. He united the nearby small gangs and cleaned things up. It's still a bit shady, but it's become the go-to place for those looking to get away with things. It's much safer than other places," Moses Adams explained as he looked for a parking spot.

After parking, Moses led Jiang Hai into a bar with a devil mask hanging above the entrance. Not just anyone could enter, but with Moses by his side, Jiang Hai was allowed in.

Inside, Jiang Hai found it wasn't like the noisy, chaotic nightclub he had imagined. There was no blaring music, no wild dancing. Instead, in the center of the large room stood a massive hexagonal iron cage. Two muscular men were inside, fighting fiercely with no rules—only surrender or unconsciousness would stop the fight.

One of the men was a massive Westerner, standing over two meters tall with arms thicker than his head. His opponent was an Asian, around 1.75 meters tall, with a tight, muscular build. He was wrapped in bandages, his right leg raised like a cobra, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Jiang Hai recognized the fighting techniques. The Westerner was using wrestling, a popular combat style in the U.S., based on joint locks and throws. His opponent, however, wasn't relying on just any fighting style—Jiang Hai could tell this was no ordinary fighter.