Fast and Furious: I Control Everything

Hunter had not expected this Black man to show him such goodwill.

He smiled and patted the man on the shoulder.

"Thanks for the warning. I understand."

"Then let us stay in touch sometime. I am leaving first."

He could feel that someone had been following him these past few days.

He had long suspected that the trackers were Ruben's men.

But Hunter was bold enough to ignore them.

The reason he had not taken the initiative to kill Ruben yet was because Danny's crew still needed Ruben's money and connections to make the heist succeed.

No need to mention anything else. The most important part of the operation was the telecom hijack near the Bellagio, along with arranging SWAT vehicles, gear, and the rest of the setup from the Las Vegas Police Department.

Without Ruben, the local fixer, Danny and the others could not solve those problems.

Hunter was not an ungrateful man.

From Danny's theft crew, he had already triggered several new skills.

And under the guidance of the crew members, he had also managed to raise those new skills by two or three levels each.

In just a few days, thanks to Danny Ocean's invitation, Hunter had earned six million dollars.

He had also gained more than twenty skill points and expanded his private space by more than twenty cubic meters.

He had made a killing from Danny's crew.

Naturally, he did not want to sabotage their heist. He would make sure this robbery succeeded.

So although Hunter had suspected that the men following and watching him were Ruben's people, he had not rushed to kill them.

He had waited until after the heist was done, once Ruben was no longer useful, to deal with him.

Now it was time to act.

Hunter waved goodbye to Linus and Frank.

Then he parted ways with them and headed toward the hotel where Perkins was staying.

As for that rich, generous blonde woman he had met in the Bellagio, she would have to be disappointed.

Hunter disappeared quickly from Linus and Frank's view.

Both men stared in the direction he left, each unable to hide their envy.

They wanted to be like this handsome Asian young man, with an almost photographic memory and terrifying learning ability.

To learn all sorts of money-making skills and not even care about one or two million dollars.

But they did not have that ability, so they could only watch him go in silence.

After a while, Frank, who was older, was the first to recover.

"Let's go."

He said to Linus, "Danny's plan is moving to the next stage. We need to hurry and meet up with everyone else to wait for the police call."

"Yeah."

Linus reluctantly put away the expensive watch Hunter had given him and slipped it into his pocket.

Then the two of them turned and left the plaza together.

More than ten minutes later, inside a narrow alley a few hundred meters from the Bellagio.

Hunter looked down at the figure twitching painfully on the ground.

He grabbed one of the burly men and asked coldly, "Did Ruben send you? Where is he now?"

Earlier, Hunter had already noticed someone was watching him from the plaza.

After parting with Linus and Frank, he had not walked quickly.

Instead, he deliberately lured the trackers into a secluded alley nearby and then struck first.

With the Twelve-Route Kicking Technique he had just learned, combined with his physical strength that was now more than five times that of an ordinary adult male, he had easily crippled the two men, one kick each.

"Hng!"

The burly man let out a muffled groan.

He was still in pain, but he did not answer.

Hunter's expression did not change.

He reached behind him.

The next second, a military knife appeared in his hand, taken from his private space.

Without another word, Hunter stabbed the man in the stomach and then pulled the blade free.

"Ah!"

The man screamed as blood started pouring from the wound.

"How much does Ruben pay you in a year?"

"Several thousand dollars? Ten thousand? A few tens of thousands?"

"I am curious. Is that enough to buy your life?"

Hunter looked coldly at the man, who was still bleeding and screaming, then casually lifted the body, which weighed more than one hundred fifty pounds, and threw him several meters away.

He had already used his theft skill to take the man's gun, knife, and other weapons.

Hunter was confident in his own strength, but he was not arrogant.

He had not enjoyed life long enough yet. He only had one life, and he knew that much.

Without even glancing at the man now left to die in pain, Hunter went to the other burly man.

The man's body was tensed, and he drew a pistol and aimed it at Hunter.

Hunter was faster.

He grabbed the hand holding the gun in an instant and twisted hard.

Crack.

Bones broke.

"Ah!"

The man screamed.

Hunter's face remained calm.

One hand held the broken wrist tightly, while the other raised the military knife and pressed it to the man's throat.

"My patience is limited. Where is Ruben now?"

"Tell me, and you live."

"Stay silent, and you die."

The blade traced lightly across the man's neck.

Hunter controlled the force so the knife only cut the surface skin.

But the cold metal against his throat, along with the warm liquid beginning to seep out, was enough to fill the man's eyes with fear.

Even though he was a former soldier too, he still feared death.

Hunter's coldness and strength had quickly shattered his mental defenses.

"He... he is at the AC Hotel... Room 605 on the sixth floor."

A chop to the neck knocked the man out cold.

Hunter took his weapons and stood up.

He did not even look at the unconscious man, or the other one who was lying in a pool of blood and was close to going into shock.

He turned and headed toward the AC Hotel.

The AC Hotel was near the Bellagio, also a star-rated hotel, though only three stars.

Inside room 605 on the sixth floor, Ruben was smoking a cigar.

Four bodyguards stood guard around him, and several walkie-talkies were placed on the table in front of him.

His men were continuously feeding him information.

For this operation against Terry Benedict, the main force was Danny and his crew of more than ten people.

But Ruben had also mobilized thirty or forty of his own men to support them.

Good thing he was a local power in Las Vegas.

Otherwise, trying to scheme against another casino mogul and steal 150 million dollars in cash from a heavily guarded vault would have been pure fantasy.

"Boss, we did it."

"Our fake SWAT team has already entered the vault and carried the money out."

The shout on the other end of the line made Ruben's hand tremble, and a grin finally spread across his face.

"Good. Very good. Benedict is going to look like a fool this time."

"Let's see how he manages to make a living in Las Vegas after this."

Ruben knew the heist had succeeded.

The 150 to 160 million dollars in cash from Benedict's vault would soon be taken to the agreed location and split among the crew.

Before, Ruben had not cared about the one or two million dollars he would get.

He was still the owner of several casinos, with hundreds of millions in wealth.

But after the gambling duel with that Asian young man a few days ago, Ruben had been stripped of six million dollars and nearly drained of his cash.

Now he was almost broke.

Thinking about that, the anger he had suppressed for days suddenly surged back.

He was just about to pick up one of the walkie-talkies on the table and ask about the status of the men tailing Hunter when he heard the hotel room door open.

Then something flew in through the air and landed in front of him and his men.

Ruben glanced at it and immediately turned pale with fear.

The next second, a bright flash stabbed his eyes with pain.

Screams and low gunshots rang out again and again.

When Ruben's vision began to clear a little, he rubbed his tear-filled eyes and tried to see what had happened.

Through the blurred sight, he saw that the four bodyguards who should have been protecting him were all lying in pools of blood.

Every one of them had been shot in the head. They were dead.

Ruben shuddered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of someone standing to one side.

When he turned, he saw a somewhat unfamiliar but faintly familiar Asian man staring at him with the same calm, cold eyes that had haunted his dreams for two days after the last encounter.

"Being alive is not so bad, Ruben."

"And yet you keep provoking me again and again."

Ruben heard that familiar voice, and his heart sank.

Regret surged up from deep inside him like a flood.

"It... it was you!"

He stammered, about to beg for mercy.

But the other man lifted his suppressed pistol and pointed it at him.

"I told you before. What those men who killed the two casino owners could do, I can do too."

"Before you die, let me remind you of one thing."

"Those two men were killed by me too."

Ruben's eyes flew wide open in terror.

Hunter pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Bang.

The bullet tore through Ruben's forehead, and the racist old white man collapsed heavily to the floor.

He never breathed again.

Hunter put the gun away and was about to leave.

Then he looked at the open box of Cuban cigars on the table.

He took one, clipped the end neatly with a cigar cutter, lit it, and took a puff.

"Not bad. Better than the Cuban cigars I bought in the Bahamas."

"Pretty luxurious."

"Too bad you will never enjoy them again."

While smoking, Hunter dumped the rest of the unopened cigars from the box onto Ruben's body.

Then he collected all the walkie-talkies and communication devices in the room.

After that, he walked out of the room, climbed out through a window in one of the hotel rooms on the second floor, and disappeared quickly into the street.

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