John Miller quickly led the two to the second dwelling. Before they even reached the door, they could hear stifled sobs and pleas for mercy from within.
"See? I told you this guy was useless. He pisses his pants at the sight of us from the Tiger Squad, then turns around and takes it out on his wife and daughter. A guy like this couldn’t even get his hands on fresh shit, let alone tree roots." John Miller chuckled. "Come on, let’s go play hero."
Ethan Dawson and Quincy exchanged a look. They didn’t share John Miller’s twisted sense of humor. Listening to the crying and cursing from inside, the two silently followed him.
"Busy, are we?" John Miller kicked open the rickety wooden door and strode inside, cleaver in hand. Quinn Zane, who had been punching and kicking his wife and daughter, saw John Miller and froze, the hand he’d raised to strike halting in mid-air.
"Mr. Miller, y-you, what are you doing here?"
The Black Dragon Gang’s protection fee collection was divided by territory. A specific squad was assigned to a fixed area, so all the refugees here recognized the members of the Tiger Squad.
John Miller glanced at the mother and daughter, who were clinging to each other and trembling. He raised his cleaver and slapped Quinn Zane’s face twice with the flat of the blade.
"Mr. Zane, your memory’s getting a little fuzzy, isn’t it? Your family’s protection fee for this month is already several days late. We’re old acquaintances, so I won’t ask for much. Three catties of cornmeal this month will do. After all, I take pretty good care of you and your family, right?"
"Mr. Miller, wasn’t it two catties last month? Why the increase?" Quinn Zane asked with a fawning smile.
John Miller slapped Quinn Zane’s face twice more with the flat of his blade and pointed behind him.
"Don’t you see the two new recruits I just took in? You think they don’t need to eat? Hurry up. Three catties of cornmeal. But, hey, since we go way back, I’ll give you a choice. One finger, or the ’usual arrangement.’ Which will it be?"
As John Miller said "the usual arrangement," his gaze fell upon the mother and daughter, and a cryptic smile spread across his face.
Ethan Dawson rolled his fingers, his gaze dark as he looked up at John Miller’s neck.
Quinn Zane’s expression was terrified. Fearing the blade against his face would slice down at any moment, he could only turn his head stiffly to look at the mother and daughter in the corner.
"The... the usual arrangement."
"I’ll kill you!" The girl, who had been shielded by her mother, suddenly lunged forward to attack John Miller. Having been malnourished for so long, she grew dizzy as soon as she stood up. She staggered a couple of times but still managed to stumble in front of him. John Miller quickly dragged Quinn Zane in front of him, using him to block the girl’s feeble slap.
Quinn Zane, who had been so meek and subservient before John Miller, was struck by his daughter and immediately kicked the girl in the stomach.
The girl was knocked to the ground, curling up and convulsing in pain. The middle-aged woman in the corner threw herself over the girl and began to sob. John Miller slapped Quinn Zane on the head, then kicked him in the ass.
"Get the hell out of the way, you coward."
Quinn Zane was furious but dared not speak, pointing a trembling finger at the middle-aged woman.
"Mr. Miller, can she cover the three catties of cornmeal?"
John Miller snorted. "Your wife’s already a bloody pulp from the beating you gave her. She’s worth one catty at most. Your daughter, on the other hand, could cover two."
"Get out! No one is going to hurt my daughter! Don’t you touch my daughter!" The woman looked up, glaring at John Miller and Quinn Zane. Her face was black and blue from Quinn Zane’s beating, and her ears were ringing. She hugged the girl tightly, roaring at the two men with all her might.
"Get out, all of you! Get out! Joyce, how are you? Mommy’s so sorry. Mommy’s useless. I couldn’t protect you."
"Wendy Lawrence, you dare yell at me? See if I don’t beat you to death!" Quinn Zane’s eyes bulged as he moved to hit her again, but John Miller stopped him.
"If you beat her to death, then I came here for nothing today, didn’t I?" John Miller glanced at Quincy and Ethan Dawson.
"You two, get out. Wait for me outside for half an hour."
Seeing John Miller’s sleazy smile, Quincy felt a deep sense of unease. ’The situation in the refugee camp is even worse than I imagined,’ he thought. ’This place is like some parts of the Sunken Isles, full of violence and bloodshed.’
Quincy sighed. If Ethan Dawson hadn’t stopped him, he would have shot both men right then and there. The girl was still convulsing; that kick had been vicious.
The moment they stepped out of the small shack, Quincy tugged on Ethan Dawson’s arm. "Are we just going to let that animal do whatever he wants?"
"Wait a little longer."
Ethan Dawson glanced back at Quinn Zane. Having been kicked out, Quinn Zane looked utterly wretched. He was about to start cursing, but when he saw Quincy and Ethan Dawson standing there, he quickly started nodding and smiling fawningly.
「Inside the shack.」
"Don’t come any closer! Get away! Don’t come over here!" The middle-aged woman’s voice was already hoarse from shouting. She clutched Joyce and shrank back, her eyes filled with panic and resentment.
"Wendy, let go of Joyce first. You’re going to strangle her."
Wendy Lawrence ignored John Miller. Joyce, in her arms, was already vomiting blood. She cried out her daughter’s name as she wept. Just as John Miller reached out to touch her, Wendy Lawrence suddenly shoved him to the ground and snatched the cleaver from his hand.
"AHHHH—" A bloodcurdling scream rang out. John Miller, who had been so smug just a moment ago, now had an arm chopped off. Blood sprayed onto Wendy Lawrence’s face as she cackled madly, raising the cleaver and bringing it down on John Miller’s head as if she were butchering a pig.
Hearing the scream, Quincy and Ethan Dawson ran back into the shack to see what was happening. They saw John Miller lying there, a bloody mess. He wasn’t dead yet, and blood was gurgling from his mouth.
Quinn Zane peered out from behind Ethan Dawson. He had assumed the scream belonged to Wendy Lawrence, but the sight before him left him dumbstruck.
Wendy Lawrence cackled maniacally as she swung the cleaver at John Miller again and again.
Joyce, who had been convulsing just moments before, now lay motionless in the corner. Ethan Dawson moved over and checked for her breath.
Joyce was dead.
"Maniac! She’s a maniac!" Quinn Zane scrambled to his feet, trying to flee the shack, but Quincy blocked his path. Just then, Wendy Lawrence approached with the cleaver in her hand. She looked at Quinn Zane, her eyes filled with tears.
"That was your daughter, Quinn Zane! You’re an animal, worse than a pig or a dog! You kicked Joyce to death! I’ll make you pay with your life!"
THWACK! The cleaver plunged deep into Quinn Zane’s abdomen. Wendy Lawrence suddenly ripped it out, and a torrent of blood sprayed onto her. Then she raised the cleaver again and swung it directly at his neck.
Quinn Zane’s eyes bulged, staring at Wendy Lawrence as he died, unable to rest in peace. Even as he took his last breath, he was still cursing her.
"You fucking bitch, you’ll die a miserable death!"
"I’ll die a miserable death? Quinn Zane, I must have been blind to marry a man like you."
Wendy Lawrence burst out laughing. Her laughter turned into heart-wrenching sobs. She dropped the cleaver and collapsed to the ground. Then she crawled over to Joyce, using her bloodstained hands to wipe her daughter’s face.
"Don’t be scared. Mommy will protect you. Don’t be scared, Joyce. No one will ever bully us again."
Quincy swallowed hard. He never imagined that in just a few short minutes, both John Miller and Quinn Zane would die at the hands of Wendy Lawrence.
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