Thomas Clark was stunned for a while, then sighed and said, "Alright! But there are too many people right now. We have to wait a bit before we leave. The night is getting late, and soon there will be no one on the streets. The fewer people who see us trick Grim Reaper out, the better—it'll mean less trouble afterwards."

George Knight was overjoyed and said, "Your mind really is sharp. Let's do it this way—let's go see Grim Reaper first, then play it by ear!"

As he spoke, he looked toward an inconspicuous residence.

Grace Bolton was quietly waiting in the alley, with a group of underlings behind him. They had already been waiting for an hour and were getting a bit anxious.

Suddenly, Grace Bolton said, "They're here—three people."

As he spoke, he gathered all his strength. Although he hadn't even mastered the first level, as soon as he focused, he immediately heard footsteps not far away—two light, one relatively heavy, as if someone had a bit of external martial arts training.

"Little Clark, where is that brother from the gang you mentioned? Hasn't he arrived yet?"

"Almost, almost—just down this alley. Brother, I'm only introducing you to a new path because of our past relationship. You can totally avoid Grace Bolton this way!"

As they approached the alley, they saw a skinny man. The man saw no one on the ground, but a group of fierce-looking youths staring at him. Before he could say anything, Grace Bolton had already lunged at him fiercely.

The alley was quite short. Although Grace Bolton's skills were shallow, it only took a blink to cross three meters and reach Grim Reaper. Following the mental technique, he struck out fiercely.

Grim Reaper reacted quickly. Sensing something was wrong, he reached for the long knife at his waist, but before he could draw it, Grace Bolton's attack had already arrived. In a hurry, he threw a punch.

"Boom!" With a muffled sound, Grim Reaper felt a sharp pain in his hand and staggered back. He cried out in shock, "True qi?"

Although martial arts were highly valued in this world, someone like Grim Reaper, who couldn't even rank among the regular gang members, would never have access to internal energy techniques. Even learning a bit of external martial arts was already impressive, so he was truly astonished.

He had only retreated a few steps when another blow landed from behind—this time from George Knight. The force wasn't great, but it blocked his retreat, and George Knight lunged forward.

Grace Bolton took a deep breath, gathered all his strength, and slammed both palms onto Grim Reaper's chest. Although Grace Bolton's skills were shallow, the technique was still profound. With all his strength focused, Grim Reaper immediately felt as if a boulder had struck his chest. Blood surged up and spurted from his mouth.

Seeing Grim Reaper collapsed on the ground, too weak to even get up, Grace Bolton said calmly, "Grim Reaper, you have two choices now: die here on the spot, or immediately pledge allegiance to me, the incense master. Speak—between life and death, make your decision in one word."

Grim Reaper hesitated. At that moment, Paul White stepped forward. "Incense master, it seems he still doesn't want to talk. Let me finish him off," he said, drawing Grim Reaper's waist knife. Grim Reaper was terrified and struggled, shouting, "No, I'll surrender, I'll surrender!"

Though his voice was weak, everyone heard it.

Grace Bolton stepped forward, satisfied, a smile on his face. "That's more like it. Now, tell me everything you know about Mark Carter. From now on, you'll follow me!"

To put it plainly, Mark Carter had to be killed, but Grim Reaper was very useful. He was a true local ruffian, knew the inside story, and had many connections. Without him, it would be hard to quickly take control of these streets and some of the underworld business!

A dozen minutes later, Grace Bolton had obtained all the information he wanted.

"Mark Carter is right here. There won't be many people at his house—just three or five. Let's go in together and kill them all."

Arriving at the entrance of a residence, Grace Bolton gave the order. After all, although Mark Carter had over twenty men, it was impossible for them all to be by his side—this was enough.

"Boom!" The door was kicked open. Of course, old hands in the underworld were very alert. Almost as soon as the door was kicked open, there was movement inside.

"Kill them, surround and kill—don't let a single one escape!"

Paul White's face was ferocious, gripping his long knife and charging in at the front. Inside, a man raised his long knife and slashed down at him. Paul White raised his knife to block, and two underlings nearby rushed forward, stabbing with their long knives. The man dodged one, but couldn't avoid the other. The blade plunged straight into his belly, and as it twisted, the man screamed shrilly, blood gushing from his wound and mouth.

Paul White kicked him aside, then led the others further in. Inside, shouts rang out: "Who are you people? Who are you?"

Then came the sounds of chaotic slashing. When Grace Bolton entered a minute later, he saw a strong man who had been hacked dozens of times, now a bloody mess. Around him, the group of young thugs who had done the killing seemed to have just come to their senses, kneeling on the ground and vomiting.

"Is anyone hurt?"

"No, just Xiao Xie is dead. Damn, Big Carter really fought hard, but he only had one chance." Paul White panted as he spoke. On the ground, a youth stared wide-eyed, his eyes lifeless—dead.