As if others felt he was watching, the person in front of him turned out to be Santiago. He looked deeply at him and then at the small room next to him. It seemed he found some amusement and said with a repugnant smile, "Old man, want to have some fun with any of them? They're all prostitutes, and the price is very low."
Old Smith stared at him. "Kid, do you think this joke is funny?"
Santiago's eyebrows on the right side arched, and he wanted to say something. However, at that moment, he felt danger in his eyes. He suddenly touched the grip of his gun and aimed it at the old Smith, who was staring at him.
"Old man, I don't like your look!"
Looking at Santiago, who suddenly went crazy, old Smith didn't raise his hand this time but looked behind Santiago as if he saw something.
Due to this exchange of words, the people walking ahead stopped and turned their heads back. Each of them looked at Santiago and frowned, to which old Smith said, "I know what you're feeling right now, but that man who must be your boss won't be very happy knowing what you're up to. Can you understand that?"
And as if old Smith saw the future, Erick, who was in the front, said, "Santiago, you better learn to do business, you damn son of a bitch."
Looking at the old man in front of him and hearing the orders behind him, Santiago's expression distorted even more. He tilted his head and pointed at Smith; his movements were very stiff, as if he had consumed some kind of drug.
Everyone knows what that kind of behavior means; it's a clear sign that someone is becoming very addicted.
Old Smith didn't pay attention and just looked at Erick. "If I buy your things, will your people end up killing me in the end?"
Erick's face cooled; he waved his finger and sent someone. "Supervise the idiot Santiago; if he dares to cause trouble for the buyer, then kill him."
The man they assigned was a short one who quickly positioned himself behind the agitated Santiago.
"You should feel relieved now, right?" Erick looked at Old Smith and calmly asked.
Old Smith nodded with a faint smile.
"Then keep walking." Erick turned around immediately, and his two remaining bodyguards followed.
"Two people left..." Old Smith looked in the direction Erick went and continued thinking.
He followed the duo to the end and then entered an inner room. Looking at everything in front of him, Old Smith remained silent.
Compared to the chaotic scene outside, this room has everything he needs, like a clean place.
Old Smith specifically looked towards a bar on the right, where two more muscular people than Erick were sitting and drinking wine.
"Two more, just like Erick..."
"Adding the three who left, these four would be seven."
By that time, Erick was already sitting on the central front sofa, extending his hand to signal.
"Please take a seat."
Feeling the gazes of the two Russians on the right, old Smith nodded, approached slowly, and sat on the small sofa in front of Erick.
Looking at Santiago, Erick said, "Damn it, go get the stuff our client requested."
Erick gave this order and bluntly instructed Santiago to fetch the things Smith had asked for. Then he took the unfinished red wine glass from the table in front of him and laid down on the sofa while shaking the red wine glass, instinctively looking at Smith.
"You know, old man, I admire you a lot. Not many people dare to come here alone."
Old Smith smiled and said, "Well, when you're my age, life doesn't matter much... You can say that to the young idiots who haven't lived life, but that doesn't apply to an old man like me who has lived long enough."
"Haha, you're damn right." Erick smiled and took a sip of red wine from his glass. "Don't worry, we're serious businessmen, so we won't disrespect you again."
Old Smith remained expressionless and didn't respond, but he thought about what he saw and heard outside the room. If the people in front of him were doing serious business, then it would be much harder for him to take them down.
The scene fell silent for a moment, and everyone looked at Old Smith sitting on the small sofa. At that moment, Santiago, who was in charge of collecting the goods, also brought a bunch of merchandise from the small room and came out.
Under everyone's gaze, Santiago placed these things on the coffee table in front of the sofa and then stood behind Erick.
A small, square white brick, a few guns, and bullets. The previous items fully met Old Smith's needs, including guns like Santiago's.
Erick got up, put the red wine glass on the table, and pushed the white packages in front of Old Smith.
"Your money probably can't buy much, but it'll be enough." As he spoke, Erick, under the gaze of old Smith, took a pistol from the table, took the magazine handed to him by the guy on the left, inserted it into the slot, clicked it several times, and calmly said, "With the remaining money, you can only buy one gun."
"Of course, you'll have the choice to make." Erick pointed the gun at Old Smith and smiled. Most people are basically unable to remain calm when they are pointed at with a gun, but Old Smith still seems calm. As mentioned before, what does his life matter at his age?
Old Smith quietly took the drug package in front of him and placed it in his arms, then looked at the gun on the coffee table and took a random gun, and its details automatically appeared in his mind. "Glock 17, one of the standard small arms, is one of the police's favorite pistols with a capacity of over fifteen rounds."
It's a pity the guns didn't have bullets—a significant pity.
"None of them have bullets." Old Smith murmured as he delicately took a pistol.
Erick looked seriously at old Smith for several seconds, and maybe because of his elderly identity, he finally waved his gun in a gesture to the person beside him. "Give Grandpa a magazine."
The guy beside him heard the order, took out a magazine, and placed it in front of Old Smith.
Under everyone's gaze, old Smith took the magazine and looked at it confusedly, then looked at Erick in front of him and asked, "Only two bullets?"
Erick showed a sinister smile and said, "If you're going to end your life, you'd only need one bullet; I added one more in case you fail the first time."
"That's logical..." Old Smith nodded, and after focusing his attention on the pistol in his hands, he inserted the magazine into the Glock.
"So, that's it." Erick clapped and said, "A perfect deal; too bad I won't see you around these parts again. Come on, give this old man a damn farewell gift."
However, as soon as Erick's words echoed in the room, he suddenly discovered that the old man in front of him had raised the gun and aimed it directly at him.
"What the hell are you doing?" Erick was startled, asking aggressively as if he wanted to intimidate the old man in front of him, but by then, he had pulled the trigger.
Bang!
With a flash in the gun barrel, Erick's head exploded in a curtain of blood, and a bloody hole appeared on his forehead.
As soon as Old Smith fired, everyone else quickly pulled out their guns and shot at the old man in front of them. But they all underestimated an old man because his reaction had taken them by surprise.
In that reaction gap, old Smith had taken a few steps forward and shot Santiago in the stomach.
Bang!
Getting rid of two annoying targets, he took the pistol Erick held, removed the safety, and resumed firing.
Bang! Bang!
The two people behind Erick received several shots, and both fell to the ground.
But at that moment, old Smith received a shot in his leg, causing him to lose balance and fall onto the sofa where he had initially been sitting.
Bang!
However, drawing strength from the depths of his old muscles, he managed to lift the pistol and kill the one who had shot him.
At that moment, the two muscular men on his right side had already pulled out their pistols, and at that moment, they aimed at Old Smith, who had also turned towards them.
Bang! Bang! Bang!