PART 38

At the last second before losing consciousness, Jason let out a sigh from the bottom of his heart: Kingpin is so damn strong!

Then he slumped over and passed out completely.

[Ding! [Hey Grass Warrior] mission failed!]

[Ding! [Fighting Maniac] mission failed!]

"Hmm..."

After venting his anger, the resentment in Kingpin's heart dissipated, and he felt a sense of relief.

He motioned to the car parked in the distance, and one of his men immediately got out of the car.

"Boss!"

"Contact a rescue helicopter and airlift Jason to the hospital for treatment. He can't die until he spills the secret."

"Okay, boss."

After making the call, his subordinate asked again, "Boss, what about the reporters? Should we send them away?"

Kingpin looked back at the chaotic scene, pondered for a moment, and said, "Let them take some photos, keep them for now. They might come in handy later."

The subordinate nodded and went back to the car to tell the money-grubbing reporters to come down and snap some pictures.

There were a few dead bodies from the 'charity organization,' some supplies still in the container, and a few cars still on fire in front of them.

After taking the photos, there was suddenly the sound of helicopter blades in the distance.

Kingpin looked up and saw a police armed helicopter approaching. He wondered to himself: Did the rescue helicopter arrive so quickly?

As it came closer, he could see clearly that this was not a hospital rescue helicopter but a police chopper with three English letters painted on the side of the fuselage.

DEA (U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration)

The voice of Steinfeld boomed out from the loudspeaker on the DEA helicopter: "This is the Drug Enforcement Agency of New York. Everyone on the ground, lie down with your hands up now!"

The reporter was terrified at the sight of the heavily armed helicopter and quickly obeyed, dropping to the ground and covering his head with his hands.

Kingpin stood tall with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing a look of disapproval on his face.

Who was he?

He was Wilson Grant Fisk the kingpin of the New York underworld.

He was used to making others kneel before him, and the thought of him kneeling before someone else was simply absurd.

"The large man below, put your head down on the ground immediately! This is your final warning!"

A mechanical sound rang out, and the 23mm multi-barrel cannon on the helicopter swiveled, aiming directly at Kingpin.

Bulletproof suits can only protect against bullets. If you come across machine guns...

Forget it, I can't be bothered.

Kingpin held his head in both hands and lay down on the ground obediently.

Once all the people at the scene were under control, the helicopter slowly descended.

Steinfeld jumped out of the chopper with four heavily armed cronies.

Kingpin, the reporter, Jason...

Burning cars, corpses scattered on the ground, and messy living supplies inside the containers.

Stan surveyed the area, and he quickly understood what had happened.

It turned out that Kingpin was behind all of this.

With a grim expression, he approached Jason's side and checked the pulse in his neck.

Thankfully, he was still alive.

He made a quick hand signal, and the two cronies holstered their guns and carefully lifted Jason onto the helicopter.

The other two cronies took the camera and the memory card from the camera.

Stan approached Kingpin, squatted down, and glared at him with a sour expression.

Kingpin was not at all concerned about Stan's , but spoke in a slightly surprised tone.

"I thought Jason had reached some sort of agreement with your Drug Enforcement Administration. He revealed the location of the Hi Grass factory in New York, and you provided him with a hiding place and concealed his identity."

"But now it seems that the relationship between you is more complicated than I thought, and even... it feels like a superior-subordinate relationship. Heh, I really don't know what benefits he gave you."

Stan snorted coldly, spat in Kingpin's face, and then turned to board the helicopter.

The helicopter took off and flew quickly towards the hospital.

Kingpin slowly got up from the ground, but his phone in his pocket rang. It was an unknown number.

"Kingpin, something big has happened. The police department is going to clean up the underground forces in New York tonight. Hurry up and hide the illegal materials, or it will be troublesome."

"Humph! Why did you not tell me such important information until now?"

"The higher-ups are going all out this time, confiscating all police officers' mobile phones. I made up an excuse and ran out of the house in a hurry. Don't worry about the rest, just hide the supplies."

"Don't worry, the supplies have already been hidden by me. By the way, I'll let you know that Jason has surfaced."

"What! Jason! Where is he?"

"He was taken away by the DEA."

Damn it! It's the son of a bitch from the Drug Enforcement Administration! Since they've already taken him, it's not easy for our police department to intervene," exclaimed Kingpin.

"You idiot! Do you think the Drug Enforcement Bureau can handle such a big case on their own? Report the news immediately and let your boss handle it," retorted the other person on the phone.

"Alright, I'll report it right away. But why are you giving me this information? It's not like you suddenly have a change of heart," officer questioned Kingpin

"Of course not. Jason is hiding a big secret, and I need your help to uncover it," replied the other person on the phone.

Upon seeing Jason's tragic condition, Stan shook his head and immediately called Franklin.

"What's the situation? Is the boss okay?" he asked.

"Boss is still alive, but the rest is hard to say," stan replied.

"FUCK!" Franklin exclaimed in frustration.

"Don't blame yourself too much, everyone is responsible for what happened tonight. If you hadn't urgently notified me, Jason might have been taken away by Kim," stan reassured him.

"I just hope the boss can survive this time," Franklin' said, his voice heavy with worry.

"You hurry back to the safe house, I'll take care of the boss's side," Stan instructed.

Hanging up the phone, the helicopter landed on the top floor of the hospital. Medical staff who were already waiting rushed up with stretchers and instruments.

Bandages to stop bleeding, saline injection, ventilator oxygen supply... all the first aid methods that could be used were employed.

The spacious aisles were cleared, and four doctors rushed toward the operating room with stretchers.

This was a patient sent by the Director of the New York Drug Enforcement Administration in person, and he had emphasized the patient's importance countless times on the phone. As a result, the hospital attached great importance to the situation.

The stretcher was pushed all the way into the operating room. Seeing the red light come on outside the operating room, Stan let out a heavy sigh.

He sat on a bench outside the corridor, feeling anxious and burnt inside.

Jason's injury was entirely his responsibility. He had underestimated the enemy and had been too impatient.

If he had been more cautious, the outcome might have been different.

Ten minutes later, a doctor in a white coat emerged from the operating room.

Stan hurried over to meet him and asked, "Doctor, how is he doing?"

The doctor removed his mask and shook his head. "The patient has suffered multiple traumas all over his body, excessive blood loss, severe fractures in his arms, chest and abdomen, internal bleeding due to damage to his spleen and kidneys... To put it plainly, his injuries are very severe, and the chances of survival are slim."

Stan's eyes turned red instantly, and he grabbed the doctor's collar. "Doctor! I don't want to hear this crap! This person inside is extremely important! No matter what medicine or method you use, you must save him!"

The doctor was taken aback by Stan's outburst and quickly responded, "Don't worry, we will do everything we can. I'll contact other hospitals' doctors immediately and hold a consultation overnight."

Stan let go of the doctor's collar and pleaded, "Please!"