Chapter 29: Reincarnators' Invasion
By the time they were finished, the sun had risen, but Tristan was still full of energy.
Later that same day, Tristan tested his newly increased strength, wiping out all the underground gangs in Raccoon City and claiming control of the entire underworld. Any outsider daring to seize territory was swiftly gunned down.
A policeman from the Raccoon City Police Department grumbled, "Damn it, have those gang members lost their minds? They're opening fire in broad daylight now!"
"Shh, keep it down," another officer whispered. He was a black man, discreetly passing a small bag to the complainer. "This is your cut. Best not to ask questions. For your own good, some things are better left unsaid."
Meanwhile, at the front of the police station, Chief Brian Irons stood before the cameras, holding a press conference.
"Thanks to the dedicated efforts of the RPD, we've managed to suppress the recent riots. Let me be clear: we will not tolerate any criminal activity in this city. Raccoon City will remain safe for its citizens. We will hold those criminals accountable and bring them to justice."
Leaning against a nearby wall, Tristan took a slow puff of his cigarette, watching Irons spew empty words to the press. He couldn't help but smirk at the irony.
With him running the underground scene, the police would have fewer cases to deal with—and Irons knew it. Their arrangement was mutually beneficial, even if a little dirty.
Keeping the police busy with minor skirmishes was just part of the game.
Seeing Tristan alone, Barry approached, chuckling. "You're awfully generous. Aren't you worried about getting into trouble?"
Tristan shrugged, exhaling a puff of smoke.
"As long as I'm in control, nothing major's gonna happen. But Kendo's gun shop? The fierce competition is bound to take a toll on business. Not my fault, though."
He offered Barry a cigarette.
Barry accepted with a grin. "Nah, Kendo's not the type to hold grudges. But watch your back—those gang members won't take it lightly."
"I've got it handled." Tristan lit another cigarette just as Jill Valentine entered the station, dressed in her police uniform. Her face had a healthy glow, and her tall, slender figure radiated an undeniable allure, catching his attention.
Barry, noticing Tristan's gaze, patted him on the shoulder.
"Like what you see? If you want her, go for it."
With that, Barry walked off, leaving Tristan to contemplate. It was almost amusing how a man like Barry, who hated corruption, maintained such a good rapport with someone like Tristan.
At the same time, Jill glanced briefly at Tristan but made no move to speak to him. She had said she wouldn't pursue the incident about the night she was raped—but that didn't mean she could forget everything and pretend everything was fine.
She also had her own attitude.
Nonetheless, Tristan wasn't in any rush regarding Jill. He had already tasted her, and he knew there would be time to deal with her later.
After finishing his cigarette, he left the police station and headed to Kendo's gun shop. Kendo, a gun expert who handled weapon maintenance for the police, had seen his business dwindle lately after Brian Irons gave the contract to a relative.
"Hey, Kendo. How's business been lately?"
Tristan walked over, offering a cigarette as a gesture of familiarity.
Kendo accepted it without much emotion.
"Business is just average. What brings you here?"
Since they both had long known each other, Tristan didn't waste any time beating around the bush.
"I'm looking for firearm experts. I want to start mass-producing weapons—automatic rifles, ammunition, and more."
Kendo raised an eyebrow. "You planning to build your own army?"
Tristan shook his head.
"No. I'm getting into the arms-smuggling business. I've got a special channel. It's all happening at the border, far from here. Easier for transportation. If you know someone who meets the requirements, I could benefit from your connections. I need to make some serious cash."
With Kendo, he knew there wasn't a reason to be on edge, so he spoke openly. Plus, he knew full well that in the U.S., without solid evidence, there was no way to pin a crime on him.
Kendo, who knew this, simply paused to think before responding.
"I've got a few contacts—some old friends in the field. But setting up mass production isn't cheap. You'll need initial capital plus equipment like lathes and machinery to create a proper assembly line."
"That's why I came to you," Tristan said, exhaling a puff of smoke. "I'll give you two hundred thousand upfront. You help me get things in motion—build the assembly line. Once it's up and running, I'll pay you another three hundred thousand."
Kendo's expression didn't change much, but his tone became more serious. "And if I don't agree?"
Tristan's eyes narrowed slightly. "Emma's still in junior high, isn't she? The city's been getting more dangerous by the day. She needs protection."
He paused, his voice lowering. "Look, we've known each other for a long time. I don't mean to sound threatening, but you're the only one who can help me with this. I'm preparing for what's coming—a nightmare future. And I need cash to do it. If I told you we'd soon be living in a world like purgatory, would you call me crazy?"
Kendo's eyes flickered as he processed the hidden threat. Emma was his daughter, and Tristan had just made his point abundantly clear.
"Fine. When do we start?"
"Tomorrow. Don't worry about Emma, either. I'll make sure she's safe. If anything happens to her, you can have Barry put a bullet in my head." Tristan raised his hand as a guarantee.
Kendo hesitated for a moment, then shook Tristan's hand.
"Alright. I could use the money."
…..
There were many ways to make quick money, and Tristan knew how to tap into them.
In addition to smuggling cars, he also wanted to extend his hands into the arms trade. Mexico in the south, with its volatile borders, was the ideal market, along with the chaotic regions of the Middle East and Eastern Europe.
Even if biological and chemical weapons were released, traditional weapons were still top sellers.
Besides these projects, Tristan's gang continued with its usual operations. However, he had no interest in loan sharking with high interest rates—it was a meaningless, foolish, and short-sighted strategy, like fishing in a pond.
Instead, he focused on other lucrative businesses like bars and KTV lounges, which, along with protection fees, generated substantial income.
Two days later, Tristan walked out of the mayor's office, having just wrapped up a meeting with Mayor Warren. They discussed future developments for the city—and themselves.
Warren had ambitions to run for governor in two years, and for that, he needed a campaign team, strategic planners, and most importantly, money.
The deal was simple: Warren would help Tristan expand his financial empire, and in return, Tristan would sponsor Warren's election campaign. It was mutually beneficial.
For the time being, they were in cahoots, and the upside for Tristan was that Warren would turn a blind eye to his gang's activities, so long as they didn't push things too far.
In return, Tristan provided Warren with financial reports from legitimate-looking businesses—ventures that earned money quickly and weren't likely to attract unwanted attention from the FBI.
Suddenly, there was the crackling sound of a police intercom.
—«A shooting has occurred at Raccoon City Medical University. All nearby officers, please provide immediate backup!»—
Simultaneously, Tristan's phone buzzed with an incoming message from his informant: the tactical rescue team had already been deployed.
But Tristan wasn't focused on any of that. His attention was solely focused on the familiar sound of the system that echoed in his mind and a mission panel that appeared before his eyes.
[Ding! New mission available!]
[Eliminate the reincarnators who have invaded your world.]
[Number of targets: 8.]
[Mission Reward: Unlock System Storage Space for the user.]
'System, can the reincarnators see through my identity?'
[If the host does not reveal it, no one will know. Your identity is registered as an NPC, a native character.]
[Note: Completing this mission will count towards the three missions required to unlock plundering privileges.]
Upon hearing this, Tristan's eyes gleamed with excitement.
'Hehehe... Good, good.'
A sinister laugh echoed in his mind. Since his identity would remain hidden, he was in control. This was his territory, his home ground. He could plan things exactly as he wished.
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