Chapter 43: A Ruthless Man
The loud "bang bang" sounds outside were intense.
Meanwhile, the "crackling" sounds inside the room were just as fierce.
Accompanying it all was Ethan's unrestrained reprimanding voice.
"Don't let your legs go weak! Stand firm! Don't act like an 80-year-old with dementia! Do you even have a spine?!"
"Your butt! Stick your butt out! Chest forward! Hands on your knees! FXXK! Don't hunch over like a slug!"
"Lie down! Look at the fat on your waist! You could extract enough oil from that for an entire block!"
"Shut up, no crying! This isn't your dad's grave!"
"Where's that pride you had just now? Bring it out! Stop acting like a pathetic slut!"
"Your expression! Give me a terrified look, hold the stick out like someone's shooting at you!"
"Bang!" A gunshot rang out outside at just the right moment.
Ayashira couldn't hold back any longer and screamed, venting all the frustration inside her.
"Yes! That's it!" But Ethan, with a face full of excitement, captured the moment, continuing to direct her for the shoot.
K, standing by, looked downstairs at Fess, who had impeccable aim, then back upstairs at Ethan, whose mouth was sharper than a gun. His mouth opened silently.
There's a gunfight happening downstairs, buddy!
How can you still be so excited about making art?
Do you even realize the situation you're in?
Even if you're not scared of the gangsters downstairs, what if Boss Fess finds out and kills you?
Are all photographers this terrifying? Does this mean war photographers are out there holding AKs in one hand while shooting photos of their enemies with the other?
No battlefield? Create one yourself!
K's ears were filled with all kinds of FXXK, SHXT for the first time, and he was amazed at how varied curse words could be. He even felt like learning them.
When the gunfire outside finally subsided, Fess came upstairs with his men, intending to take Ayashira away. But what he found was his woman sitting in a chair, looking utterly defeated, with an expression like she had been completely used up.
And Ethan? He was examining his photos, utterly thrilled by his own creativity.
Only K dared to approach Fess, briefly explaining the situation.
"You're kidding, right?" After hearing it, Fess thought there might be something wrong with Ethan's brain! Who doesn't hide during a gunfight, but instead gets excited to finish a photo shoot?
And his attitude toward Fess's woman was something Fess couldn't accept. He quickly stepped up to Ethan, ready to grab him by the collar.
But before he could, Ethan handed over the camera.
"What?" Fess looked confused, staring at Ethan's confident expression, not understanding what was going on.
"Look at the photos."
"…" Speechless, Fess took the camera, and with Ethan's help, he looked through the photos of Ayashira.
But the more he looked, the hotter he felt, his throat constantly swallowing, and he was running out of saliva.
Because in Ethan's photos, Ayashira was wearing lingerie, exposing large swathes of skin, pressing her arms against her chest, looking incredibly seductive under the lighting.
She was lying on the floor, holding a T-shaped light stick, with a pitiful expression on her face, like a small animal that had been mistreated.
As he scrolled further, Fess saw Ayashira's terrified face, her body tense in resistance, as if she was fighting off an intruder. But her body was drenched in sweat, making her look particularly weak under the lights.
Just by looking at these photos, Fess felt himself immersed in the scene, as if the person outside the frame was him.
His breathing grew heavier. He glanced at the now-exhausted Ayashira slumped in the chair and swallowed hard.
Ethan, sensing Fess's thoughts, gave him a knowing smile and asked, "Fess, what do you think of these photos?"
"They're… they're fantastic."
After the tension of the gunfight, all Fess wanted was to release his desires.
"Then I'll take my leave. Once I've finished processing the photos, I'll have Slo pass them on to you." Ethan smoothly retrieved his camera and, under the watchful eyes of Fess's men, walked out of the room.
"Alright." Fess nodded, not paying him any further attention.
K hadn't expected Ethan to walk away unscathed. Earlier, he and the other brothers had been joking about how many punches Fess would land on him!
But now, Fess didn't even give him any trouble?
K looked over at Fess and saw that he was waving his hand, telling the others to leave the room. With the way Fess was breathing heavily, everyone knew what he was about to do.
So one by one, they retreated downstairs, ready to wait for the boss to finish.
"Give me a smoke."
Ethan stood next to K, asking for a cigarette. After surviving the threat of the gunfight, he needed a release too.
Old K obediently handed him a cigarette. As Ethan lowered his head, K instinctively raised his lighter to offer him a light, but Ethan refused.
"Use that." Ethan motioned with his eyes toward the gun on K's waist, causing K to freeze up.
"This?" He raised an eyebrow, as if asking if Ethan was serious.
"Yep."
K slowly pulled out the black gun from his waist. With Ethan waiting, he slowly moved the gun's muzzle toward the cigarette, then pulled the trigger.
"Bang!" In the sound of a realistic gunshot, a flame ignited from the muzzle.
Obviously, this wasn't a real gun but a lighter.
"How did you know?" K had always carried the gun for show, and apart from a few close brothers in the gang, no one knew.
But Ethan didn't answer. He merely pulled his lips into a sarcastic smirk, then looked down at the street where terrified bystanders were fleeing the aftermath of the gunfight, with bodies lying in pools of blood.
His eyes were calm and indifferent, as if the gunfight had nothing to do with him. Or rather, as if life itself didn't stir even the slightest bit of sympathy in him. That calm demeanor left even the battle-hardened K feeling inferior.
Not to mention, Ethan still had the composure to blow a few smoke rings, letting them form and fade in the air.
K swallowed, feeling a suffocating pressure coming from this cold-hearted man. It made him afraid to speak.
Only when Ethan flicked his cigarette out with his fingers did he ask, "Aren't you worried the cops will come after you?"
"We are, but the cops usually take about twenty minutes to arrive. You know how it is; this is a Black neighborhood," K answered truthfully, watching as the last sparks from the cigarette flickered out in Ethan's fingers, making him even more nervous for some reason.
The last time someone gave him this kind of psychological pressure was the biggest gang leader in the South District, who had killed three people in a meeting without even blinking.
"Got it." Ethan nodded, implying that Fess's sprint would definitely be done in less than twenty minutes.
Seeing as they had dealt with this kind of situation before, Ethan didn't ask further. He finished his cigarette, packed up his camera, waved goodbye to K, and strolled casually through the blood-soaked street out the door.
K exchanged glances with the other gang members and couldn't help but exclaim, "That guy's a real piece of work."
What they didn't see was that, out of their sight, Ethan's legs had gone weak, and he was now leaning against a wall.
He hid himself in a gap, occasionally peeking out to check if anyone was following him.
He was terrified that at any moment, a gunman would come out and shoot him dead. That would be such a waste.
"FXXK! Damn it! Damn these people!" Ethan cursed softly, finally calming the anger in his heart. He decided never to step foot in this dangerous place again. If Raymond and Yesan wanted to find him, they'd have to do it on his turf!
After waiting a bit longer, Ethan felt the strength return to his legs. He quickly straightened up and hurried to his car.
Starting the engine, drove away.
The whole process took less than a minute.
...
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