Chapter 592 Diego Garcia’s Tricks and Trump Card

“What do you want? Money? Or something else? I can give you anything.” Garcia’s voice rang out; he had already opened the car door a crack.

Pa! Pa! Luke fired twice, leaving two holes in the windshield.

Garcia’s face changed as he hid behind the door. Gritting his teeth, he pressed his belt, and a gray and black item popped out quietly.

“I have two million in cash at my place, and diamonds that are worth three million. I can give all of them to you as long as you let me go. How does that sound?” As he spoke, he gripped the gray and black item in his hand, and beads of sweat suddenly appeared on his forehead.

By then, Luke had reached the front of the car and pointed his gun at where Garcia was hiding

Suddenly, he twisted his body and turned his head as he moved to the side. A tiny shadow flew past where his neck had been.

Luke gave an inward exclamation of surprise. Behind him, the dark shadow arced around in the air and shot at him again.

He twisted and pushed off of his toes, instantly covering seven to eight meters as he avoided the dark shadow once more. He then fired two shots at Garcia, who was crouched next to the car door.

Bang! Bang!

The moment Luke fired, Garcia grinned maliciously and fired his reloaded gun as well.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Garcia’s smile froze as his planned attack failed completely.

A few meters away, Luke suddenly flashed left and right in an irregular pattern as he pressed forward once more.

At this close range, Luke could clearly see the trajectory of his bullets.

His smile became even broader, because… Garcia was absolutely unscathed once again!

Shocked and furious, Garcia fired nonstop as he pulled the door open with his other hand and got into the car.

Luke’s figure flickered as he reached the car door and stomped on Garcia’s left leg which was still outside the car.

Crack!

Garcia’s left leg was suddenly bent into an “L,” and he promptly screamed in pain.

Luke stretched out his hand and grabbed the man by the neck to pull him out of the car.

Garcia was anxious and had no time to care about the excruciating pain in his left leg. He roared, “Go to hell, you monster!”

At his words, a dark shadow rose up to shoot at the back of Luke’s head from the side.

Luke snorted and curled his finger.

Dum!

With a super flick to the temple, Garcia passed out.

That shadow promptly slowed down.

Luke put his gun away, then turned around to lightly pluck that shadow out of the air.

Examining the item more carefully, he smiled. So, it was just this small thing.

Between his fingers was a thin and sharp razor blade.

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It was a matte iron razor blade that was an inconspicuous gray and black in color. It had the same texture as a paper-cutter, except that it was heavier. Its edges were very sharp, and the tips on both ends were deadly too.

Just now, this razor blade had attacked him from behind many times, aiming for vital parts.

Luke looked at the system notification.

System: You have defeated Diego Garcia and have received a list of his abilities.

Diego Garcia’s abilities: Basic Firearms, Basic Combat… Elementary Magnetic Control (Unavailable)

Looking at Elementary Magnetic Control which was grayed out, Luke’s heart couldn’t help feeling pained.

Magnetic Control was definitely a top-tier extraordinary ability.

As long as the user was knowledgeable and strong enough, it would be a super ability that could be used in offense and defense, to control the situation, or as backup. But in the end, he couldn’t learn it.

After countless experiences with unavailable abilities, Luke already had an idea about the rules surrounding them, and this was no exception.

Still, Luke felt deep pain.

It was like watching somebody burning cash; you would find it unbearable even if the money didn’t belong to you.

After feeling depressed for a few seconds, he threw away his meaningless regrets and turned around.

The people who had been quietly watching the battle around them saw that tall and sturdy black figure pick Garcia up like he was a dog and disappear around the corner he had come from.

Luke didn’t notice the huge graffiti artwork on a giant billboard nearby.

Illuminated by two dusky spotlights at the top, it was of a woman in a black hoodie standing with her head lowered and two huge wings stretched out to the sides. Underneath her was the dark city skyline.

However, the woman’s wings weren’t feathers, but guns.

There was no halo above her head either, but a small bright blood-red expanse.

When Luke picked Garcia up with one hand and left, he cast a long shadow in the car’s bright headlights on the billboard.

That was what the people around them saw.

Only after Luke disappeared did a bunch of people slowly emerge from the nearby shacks. They silently gathered at the top of the street that was littered with bodies.

Suddenly, one old tramp said, “It’ll take the police at least half an hour to get here. There’s something we can do.”

Everybody was silent for a moment, before they suddenly started to move.

In less than ten minutes, except for a large stretch of dirty water that had laundry detergent and disinfectant mixed into it, the street was as peaceful as before, as if nothing had ever happened.

Elsewhere, Luke tossed Garcia into the car and took a few shortcuts before he found a factory.

Picking Garcia up with one hand and propping Bloodmint up with the other, he entered the abandoned factory.

He lay out a blanket on a workbench and put Bloodmint on it. Then, he examined the environment with a camping light, and nodded in satisfaction.

Coming back, he wet a towel and placed it on Bloodmint’s forehead.

It wasn’t long before the woman’s body suddenly jerked, as if she was going to jump to her feet.

Luke pressed down on her shoulder and played a pre-typed message: “Alright, it’s still me, Puncher.”

Bloodmint’s gaze was clear again and no longer unfocused.

Seeing the familiar black mask and yellow sunglasses, she was relieved, but then asked nervously, “What time is it?”

Too lazy to type, Luke simply raised a finger.

Bloodmint cried out, “One o’clock? No, I have to go.” But her shoulder was held down again. “Diego Garcia is right here. If you’re in a hurry to leave, I’ll just have to take care of him.” Bloodmint was stunned at the anchor voice, and she turned her head.

Only then did she notice Garcia glaring at her. The drug lord who suppressed the east side of Greater Los Angeles and who had killed so many people now had his mouth taped shut and his hands and legs bound tightly. He was sitting on the ground and covered in dust. “No need to be excited. He’s not going anywhere. You can take your time,” said the anchor unhurriedly. The hand holding Bloodmint down then gently helped her up. Even so, it still pulled on her waist injury, and she gritted her teeth at the pain.