Suddenly, an attack came at Ronan. He remained composed, swiftly rolling to the side to evade the stabbing short knife.
The bald man's speed was incredibly fast. As the knife tip just touched the floor, he thrust his wrist forward, aiming to cut Ronan's kidney.
In close combat, there was no time to draw his gun. Ronan rolled again to dodge and silently recited "Steel Talons."
The bald man showed no mercy, the knife coming at Ronan's chest from a tricky angle! Ronan reached out to grab the knife's handle.
Unexpectedly, the bald man twisted his wrist, avoiding Ronan's hand, and went for his neck instead.
Ronan was getting closer to the wall, and with a kick against the living room wall, he moved away diagonally, dodging the knife, and finally managed to pull out his gun.
Before his fingers could reach the trigger, the bald man's empty left hand swung something, flying towards Ronan's vulnerable neck.
With the close distance between them, despite Ronan's hunter instincts, he only had time to move his right hand and used the Glock in his hand to collide with the flying knife.
The force behind the knife was immense, causing a strange noise within the handgun.
The gun was damaged, so Ronan threw it at the bald man's bare head while he dodged.
Seizing the opportunity while the bald man evaded, Ronan got up from the ground.
"Help!" Ronan shouted at the top of his lungs. "Help! Save me!"
The bald man was momentarily surprised but quickly lunged at Ronan again, intending to finish him off with his expert close combat skills.
The standalone house was quite large and situated on the edge of the community, making it impossible for anyone to hear.
Just as Ronan had thought, in many situations, he could only rely on himself in the end!
The bald man targeted Ronan's vital points with every knife strike, completely suppressing him, leaving Ronan with no choice but to do his best to evade.
Though Ronan had practiced grappling combat in his previous world and received training from American hunters, he was still significantly inferior to a professional expert like the bald man.
He silently recited "Steel Talons" again while retreating and dodging.
Ronan realized that without a gun, he was no match for the bald man.
If this dragged on for too long, he might end up being played to death by the bald man.
He had to find an opportunity to use his special palm technique for a deadly strike!
Soon, Ronan had three additional wounds on his body, but luckily, he had dodged swiftly enough, so the wounds were only oozing blood.
Ronan retreated to a corner of the living room, with no room to maneuver.
The bald man's short knife relentlessly aimed straight at Ronan's chest, leaving him with no way to avoid it. He desperately grabbed the blade with both hands and let out a painful scream, as if his hands were being sliced open by the knife.
"Ha!" the bald man shouted, showing a cruel smile as he pushed the knife forward with force.
Could the flesh and blood withstand the sharp blade?
Suddenly, the bald man sensed something was wrong. The short knife didn't seem to pierce into flesh.
Before he could react, a head came down quickly and ruthlessly!
With a thud, Ronan's forehead smashed forcefully into the bald man's nose bridge.
It was one of the most vulnerable spots on the human body!
The bald man's eyes welled up with tears, and his strength weakened. Seizing the opportunity, Ronan pulled the short knife aside and kneed the bald man's abdomen.
This was one of the most vulnerable spots for a man, without a doubt!
The bald man let out a miserable scream, and his grip on the knife involuntarily loosened.
Ronan snatched the knife and, with a grip as strong as iron claws, held the bald man by the neck.
The bald man's vision darkened, and he quickly lost consciousness.
When he woke up again, he found himself tied up tightly in a bow shape.
Not far away lay various cold weapons, including the short knife, throwing knives, and a hand crossbow.
Ronan, shirtless with three minor wounds covered by band-aids, picked up the knife, which resembled a long dagger, and asked the bald man, "Who are you, and who sent you?"
The bald man squeezed out a smile and said, "I told you, will you let me go?"
Ronan also smiled, "What do you think?"
The bald man glanced at Ronan's unscathed palms, "How did you train your hands? Teach me, and I'll tell you everything."
Without wasting words, Ronan cut off the bald man's left little finger with one swift motion and then looked at him.
The bald man let out a miserable cry, and sweat dripped from his forehead.
Ronan then pulled back his right little finger.
"Wait!" the bald man exclaimed loudly, "If you promise to let me go, I'll talk."
Ronan said directly, "I promise to let you go."
Just like that, a casual promise? The bald man fell silent instead.
Ronan checked his watch, "It's eleven o'clock now, and we have the whole night ahead of us."
Without the presence of Carter's men, he didn't need to maintain a cold and silent demeanor. So he spoke more: "I have some black men working for me; they are very interested in men like you. They like to play with them for a few days before finishing them off! For example, knocking out your teeth, then..."
As he spoke, he delivered three consecutive cuts, finally severing the bald man's right little finger.
The bald man was an assassin, not a special agent trained by a strict and disciplined organization. He couldn't bear it any longer and said, "Garcia! Garcia!"
Ronan released the bald man's hand, "Which Garcia?"
Once he had a starting point, the bald man felt a little less burdened and continued, "Antonio Garcia, from the Garcia cartel in Mexico!"
Ronan thought to himself that the matter with the parchment was far from over: "Go on."
The bald man continued, "I owe Garcia a favor. His advisor, Harvey, came to me with a badge and asked me to kill you and retrieve a certain parchment. I couldn't refuse!"
Ronan asked, "Who are you?"
The bald man replied, "I am a sushi restaurant owner..."
Before he could finish his sentence, Ronan swiftly sliced off another segment of his finger.
"I am an assassin, codenamed Zero!" The bald man gasped for breath, "My public identity is a sushi restaurant owner. I am just hired by people. It's just business, I have no grievances with you."
While killing, with the blade in hand, one had concerns for their own life, making it difficult to face things calmly. "If you kill me, it won't solve the problem. Garcia will send others!"
The key to the matter lay with Antonio Garcia. Ronan asked, "Why does Garcia want the parchment?"
The bald man kept shaking his head, saying, "I don't know! I'm just an assassin, fulfilling my employer's commission without asking questions!"
Seeing Ronan was about to take action again, he quickly added, "Harvey! Harvey Gonzalez should know. He is Antonio Garcia's lawyer from the Garcia cartel."
"Where is he?"
"Yesterday, I met him in the south of Tijuana. He has an informant within the Carter gang!"
Being an assassin, the bald man had limited knowledge of the Garcia cartel. He had only seen Antonio Garcia once, and after he described Antonio's appearance, Ronan picked up the short knife.
"You said you would let me go!"
Ronan stabbed the knife into the bald man's chest. "Yes, I'll let you go to the Western Paradise!"
The assassin known as "Zero" met his end!
Ronan silently activated his spirit vision and directed his left hand towards the red halo on the corpse. The halo entered his hand.
Turning off the spirit vision, information flashed in his mind.
Short Knife Combat Technique: A killing skill developed by an unorthodox professional assassin who despises firearms!
Soul Fragments +3!
It seemed that the stronger the opponent, the more soul fragments he could harvest after their death.
Ronan sat on the sofa, made a call, and spoke concisely, "It's me. There was an assassin, and I killed him!"
After hanging up the phone, surrounded by the strong smell of blood and looking at the bald man's body, he realized that the matter of the parchment was far from over.
Today, he killed one bald man, and there might be two or three more coming after him, or even more.
The key lay with Antonio Garcia.
Even if the other side played the game of "gourd doll rescues grandpa," he was still up for the challenge.
Ronan considered it best to resolve this matter all at once.
If there was a chance, could he go to Mexico and have a "chat" with Antonio Garcia face to face?
He was very curious about the origin of the parchment.
Not long after, Will and the others arrived.
Seeing the corpse in the room and the band-aids on Ronan's body, Will let out a sigh of relief, "Buddy, you're okay, that's great."
Ronan said, "An assassin hired by Mexicans!"
Will was indignant, "Those bastards. They don't dare to confront us openly, so they resort to these shady methods."
Others tidied up the room, and Jim and Buck quickly called to check on Ronan. After confirming he was alright, they finally felt relieved.
Ronan put away the dagger-like short knife, and the room was filled with the smell of blood. He decided to spend the night at the community church.
He gave the hand crossbow and throwing knives to Will, realizing that these things were far less useful than guns.
Ronan went to the armory and picked an M9 pistol.
The next step was to leave Chula Vista, so he had to consider ammunition.
Although the M9 didn't have as high a stock as the M1911, it was still widely available in both the US and Mexico.
As for the informant the bald man mentioned, Jim and Buck would have to investigate that themselves.
The Carter gang was rapidly expanding, absorbing many newcomers, including informants from other gangs. This was quite normal.
Early in the morning, Ronan went out with Will to buy breakfast and also got a drink. They walked and drank along the way.
After finishing the drink, Ronan wiped his mouth with a tissue, balled it up, and threw it into the drink cup. When they passed by a trash can, he tossed it inside.
As they left, a homeless person came to dig through the trash can and took the drink cup and some other things.
After breakfast, all the participants gathered in the basement of the church. They handed over their mobile phones and communication devices. Jim announced that they would conduct the trade with the Mexicans tonight, and the generous Jose was ready.
No one involved in the trade was allowed to leave the church basement or act alone.
Furthermore, they had to search each other thoroughly.
Ronan, dressed in a t-shirt and trousers, took out money, keys, and a handgun, placing them on the table for inspection, and then raised his hands facing Will.
"Just routine!" Will said, "We do this every time."
The dollars and identification on their bodies were of no concern to anyone since they were all involved in illegal activities, and it was common for them to have fake documents.
Those who were allowed to participate in this trade were all experienced individuals who had gone through tests. If Ronan hadn't contributed genuinely and eliminated several elite members of the Morales gang, including Padi, he wouldn't have been selected.
In the evening, with a significant transaction ahead, Ronan called Will to the shooting range. They practiced with the new M9 and M4 rifles, as well as the short knife combat technique.
Mexican traffickers were all desperados, and even though Jose had a good reputation, there was a possibility he could turn hostile. Everyone had prepared heavy firepower.
After lunch, Ronan conserved his energy and stayed with Will and the others in a resting room, gently tapping the thick bandage wrapped around his left arm wound.
Will boasted about his achievements, "I had seven Mexican girls from the Morales gang last night!"
A large, chubby African-American man asked, "Did they not resist?"
Will laughed heartily, "As soon as we caught them, I and Kari injected them with that stuff. It creates a rapid addiction, and they become obedient and do whatever we say."
He pointed between his legs, "From now on, they become our money-making machines!"
Then he turned to look at Ronan, "You only know how to practice shooting. You missed out on a lot of fun!"
Ronan gently tapped the gauze on his wound, "The doctor advised against intense physical activity!"
Will turned back, saying, "Dr. Hall is just an old fuddy-duddy!"
As the night fell, the long caravan of vehicles finally left the community church and dispersed, taking different roads towards their destination.
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