That Night.
Peter Tarasov made his move.
Drivers of the distinctively ugly yellow cabs scattered throughout New York City began receiving messages one after another.
The information network of the Bowery King—or in this case, the taxi kingpin—was terrifyingly efficient.
It didn't take long.
Dexter and his convoy were tracked and located.
One by one, taxis flipped off their "Vacant" signs, accelerated, and sped toward Dexter's location.
Inside the Mustang.
Noticing the increasing number of taxis trailing them, Dexter realized something was wrong. He thought for a second, considered the possibilities, and then smiled.
Did Viggo beg his cousin for help?
The Taxi Kingpin who only had a brief cameo in the second movie is making an early appearance?
Excellent!
That Taxi Kingpin was sitting on crates and crates of gold coins. A scary amount.
If he could get his hands on that hoard...
Heh, I could probably buy out the entire stock of every High Table armory in New York!
Dexter's mind raced, and he felt a surge of excitement.
Driven by that excitement, Dexter didn't waste a second. He ordered the Death Soldier Captain driving the car to pull over. Then, he commanded the Captain to lead the nine other armored soldiers into battle.
Kill!
Clank, clank, clank!
Receiving the order, ten armored Death Soldiers stepped out of the vehicles. Without a word, they opened fire.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire erupted.
Against ordinary hitmen driving taxis, these full-body bulletproof suits were simply unfair. It was a dimensional strike—a complete mismatch.
The assassins holding their pistols and submachine guns were dumbfounded. Every single one of them.
"What the fuck?"
"What is that?"
"Why aren't the bullets going through?"
Before they died, similar questions flashed through their minds.
In no time at all.
Many of the taxis surrounding them ground to a halt, their drivers eliminated.
Seeing this, Dexter got out of the car. He leisurely opened the trunk, took out the RPG, hoisted it onto his shoulder, aimed at a cluster of taxis approaching from a distance, and pulled the trigger with a smile.
Whoosh~
The rocket flew true, slamming into a taxi.
BOOM.
The explosion was spectacular. Thrilling.
"Captain, take a prisoner. I want to have a chat with their boss," Dexter shouted into the chaos after firing his shot and getting his fix.
"Yes, Boss," the Death Soldier Captain responded over the comms.
About a minute later.
A middle-aged man—a taxi driver on the surface, a hitman underneath—was dragged before Dexter.
"Call your boss. Do it, and I'll let you go," Dexter said directly.
The middle-aged man complied. He pulled out his phone and dialed his superior. "Sir, Dexter wants to speak to the boss."
The superior on the other end paused, thought for a moment, and said, "Hold."
Not long after, the call was transferred to Peter Tarasov.
"Yes?" Peter Tarasov's voice was calm.
"This is Dexter. I know who you are," Dexter laughed upon hearing the familiar Russian accent. "Send me five hundred gold coins, and I'll let you off the hook."
Peter Tarasov hadn't expected to hear that. He laughed. "Heh. How about I send you a coffin instead?"
Dexter kept smiling. "You know where I am. You have twenty-four hours. Remember: five hundred gold coins."
With that, Dexter didn't bother saying more. He hung up and tossed the phone back to the hitman. "You can go."
The hitman caught the phone, didn't say a word, and turned to leave immediately.
By this time.
Thanks to the hard work of Dumb Nine, the Death Soldier Captain and his squad had already stripped all the gold coins from the dead assassins.
"Thanks," Dexter said with a smile as he stuffed the handful of coins the Captain handed him into his pocket.
"You're welcome," the Captain replied. He didn't delay and returned to the fight, expanding the perimeter.
It bears repeating.
These full-body bulletproof suits... were absolutely broken against standard small arms fire.
A few minutes later.
Leaving behind dozens of their comrades' corpses, the surviving taxi drivers retreated. They didn't dare throw their lives away anymore.
Seeing them run, Dexter didn't chase. He signaled the soldiers to mount up, and they continued on their way.
---
"Sir, Dexter just wiped out dozens of our men in one go. His people are wearing some kind of armor... we don't know what it is. Bullets won't penetrate. They just bounce off..."
Peter Tarasov's Office.
His skinny deputy reported with a grim expression.
Listening to this, Peter Tarasov—who was no coward—couldn't help but recall what Dexter had said on the phone. He felt a pang of worry and started to hesitate.
For the sake of his cousin Viggo, he had sacrificed so many men in such a short time... Was it worth it?
"Tell everyone to switch to armor-piercing rounds. Let's see how that works!" After hesitating for a few seconds, Peter Tarasov made his decision.
In this world, as a boss, losing forty-plus men required a response. If he didn't do something, his position at the top would be shaky.
And so.
Soon.
Gold coins flowed into the High Table's affiliated armories.
Boxes of armor-piercing ammunition and high-powered rifles flowed out.
Under the cover of night.
New York City, just as Dexter wanted, began to stir with violence.
---
On the Road.
After dealing with another wave of Viggo's goons.
Dexter checked the System.
[Karma Points: 145,600.]
[Collected Coins: 365.]
He was very close to the target of 500 gold coins.
At this rate, he might finish it before dawn.
Once the mission was complete, the reward would hit his account—Karma Points would skyrocket by 100,000!
And after that, all he had to do was randomly kill one person inside the New York Continental.
Boom. Another 200,000 Karma Points.
Awesome!!!
With that many Karma Points.
Dominating New York was a real possibility.
So...
Considering that after killing someone in the Continental, he definitely wouldn't be able to stay there anymore, and the High Table would personally send Adjudicators and enforcers...
I need to find a building... Dexter muttered silently.
Then, suddenly, a bold idea popped into his head.
Find a building? Screw that!
I'm going to overthrow the High Table anyway!
Why not just seize the New York Continental from Winston?!
Use the Continental as a fortress to fight the High Table, harvest Karma Points like crazy, open chests, increase the number of Death Soldiers and equipment, and create a positive feedback loop...
Solid plan!!
The more Dexter thought about it, the more excited he got.
Of course, excitement was one thing.
Dexter didn't lose his rationality.
He knew perfectly well that before seizing the Continental, he needed enough Karma Points and enough Death Soldiers...
With his current numbers and equipment, it wasn't enough.
I need to kill more people!
Dexter thought. Then he remembered an old saying: To do a good job, an artisan must first sharpen his tools!
So.
Open a chest!
Open a Diamond Chest!
Let's go big!
[You opened a Diamond Chest. Congratulations, you received...]
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