Becoming a Russian Oligarch After Rebirth
Chapter 342 Welcome to Hell_1

Chapter 342: Chapter 342 Welcome to Hell_1

"These people... they’re real devils, aren’t they?"

Anton was speaking with lingering fear.

"Can they fight better than Russian Signal Flag and Alpha special forces?" Wang Ye asked with surprise.

Russian Special Forces are renowned worldwide. He found it hard to understand why Petrov would ignore these forces and instead choose the Car City Black Devils.

"It’s because only they are cruel enough when they start... Doesn’t this meet your requirements just right? Let those bastards die painfully. Besides, our Wagner Company needs a group of people to do the dirty work. After this affair is over, I plan to settle those people in Car City, and set up a base there for convenience in local recruitment. Their combat power is not to be underestimated, especially their identities, handing over many matters to them is more convenient," explained Petrov.

Wang Ye finally understood.

He nodded in agreement with Petrov’s idea. "Then hurry up, I hope to see the results soon."

......

As Wang Ye and his team were planning their revenge, in San Francisco the gang was unaware of the shadow creeping towards them.

Rashaun, the fat black man who caused trouble that night, was indeed a gang leader and was somewhat famous in San Francisco.

As for the black gangs, their most common business was dealing drugs, and Rashaun was no exception.

After the conflict that night, Rashaun personally shot and killed the capable Russian lad, and boasted about it afterwards.

"Haha, I’ve always said that following me has a future. What’s the use of good fighting skills these days? A gunshot will take you out! The key is to have money and guns! Even after killing a person, didn’t I get away scot-free? Those good-for-nothing cops, they should know that I did it, but dare they step to me?"

Rashaun’s words were definitely bragging. The police station didn’t bother with him, not because they were afraid of him, but because gathering evidence to convict Rashaun was rather troublesome and they couldn’t be bothered.

"Boss, you’re great. That guy was pretty tough that night, fighting several of us alone without losing. Haha, in the end, he was knocked down by a single gun from the boss. It was so thrilling to watch you mercilessly emptying a magazine!"

"Boss, we can’t be complacent, right? That group looked quite rich, coming from Russia, they probably won’t let this go."

Some of Rashaun’s subordinates were worried that the matter was not over yet.

But Rashaun didn’t take it to heart at all, patting his belly and laughing, "You’re not only a nigga but also a coward! You need to know, this is our American territory, it’s not up to those Russians to run wild!"

When a white or Asian called a black person a "nigga," it was discriminatory and offensive. However, when black people called each other that, it was just joking and quite common.

"Alright, everyone gather early tomorrow night. We are going to pick up a batch of goods, still at that junkyard in the suburbs. The business is getting better now, and this time we’re getting more goods. Everyone be vigilant and bring your weapons," Rashaun directed.

"Haha, in San Francisco, who dares to mess with us? Doesn’t everyone know that you, boss, are ruthless and kill one without blinking an eye?" One of his men quickly brown-nosed.

......

The next night, October 23rd, Rashaun and his gang gathered, divided into three vehicles, and set off to the junkyard in the suburbs.

There, they were to receive a batch of new goods, and the delivery people were old friends.

Rashaun and his gang didn’t think much of it, just considering it a regular deal.

In the middle Navigator, Rashaun was sitting in the back seat smoking a cigar, while his small minion next to him was carrying two leather cases full of US dollars!

"Joe, the case about the Russian kid last time, has it been cleared up?" For some reason, Rashaun suddenly thought of this and asked his assistant in the passenger seat.

This assistant was considered the most educated person in the gang, having supposedly studied law in community college.

Thus, the gang’s public affairs were all handled by him.

"It’s been a long time since it’s been cleared, the police didn’t trace it back to us. The nightclub guys claimed they didn’t know us, haha," Joe turned around and laughed.

Rashaun nodded, completely at ease, taking a comfortable puff on his cigar and glancing at the scenery outside the window.

Obviously, apart from the distant city lights, there wasn’t much else to see.

Soon, the team arrived at an abandoned car park about ten kilometers outside the city.

The place was filled with various scrapped cars, and there were no other buildings for two or three kilometers around. It was remote and quiet, an absolutely ideal spot for drug transactions.

Plus, it was convenient for quick getaways in case the police showed up!

Rashaun’s team drove straight to a dilapidated warehouse deep within the parking lot.

Upon reaching the warehouse door, they didn’t immediately get out of the vehicles, but collectively turned off their headlights. Then the first vehicle flashed its high beams at the warehouse door three times.

Just after flashing, a light shot out from the depths of the warehouse, flashing four times.

The password matched!

Only then did Rashaun and his gang confidently shut off the engines and exit the vehicles. Surrounded by seven or eight small minions, they pushed open the slightly ajar warehouse door and walked in.

The warehouse was piled high with old tires, most likely taken off the scrapped cars outside.

As Rashaun and his men entered, the lights in the warehouse came on.

A middle-aged man in a wide-brimmed sun hat was sitting there. This was Rashaun’s old friend, the "delivery man" from Mexico.

What seemed odd to Rashaun was that despite his men coming in, his old friend remained stooped with his head down, completely motionless.

"Hey, Slim, you didn’t fall asleep, did you? Where did your men run off to?" He joked.

However, his hand was slowly reaching for the gun holster at his waist.

"Bang!" Suddenly, the warehouse door behind them was closed.

Rashaun’s scalp tingled, he quickly turned to look, but saw nothing unusual.

Just as he was about to instruct one of his minions to go and check, a slightly hoarse voice came from the depths of the warehouse.

Speaking in imperfect English, it said, "Welcome to Hell..."