My Realistic Adult Game-Chapter 137 - 67: No Man’s Land, Thank My Mercy

Once damaged, it could no longer be used as evidence, and these drugs would be transported by the Cucuta Group to Miami for sale.

No-cost business!

This bunch of bastards!

I find the Johnny Clan kinder than them.

Murdering in broad daylight, even threatening the police station, these guys have absolutely no fear.

"Yes, sir." The officer dragged the body into the police station and soon came out with two duffel bags.

Gustavo looked at the bags, smiling. He handed over a stack of US Dollars to the other person,

patted the officer on the shoulder.

"Good kid!"

Martin patted the car door, and the convoy left.

Watching them disappear into the distance, I understood what happened to Ella; these guys were devils.

"Do you want to go to your uncle’s house?" Duke looked at the many shops ahead, there were building materials, food, daily necessities, clothing, shoes and hats, even baby products.

Ella did not agree, "Let’s find a hotel first. This is close to the central area, it’s safe, but going deeper into the market area will get chaotic."

"Let’s gather some information first."

"We can go to my friend’s house; the night I got kidnapped, I was drinking with friends at a bar."

"What’s your friend’s name?"

"Maria Garcia!"

A very standard Colombian name.

I nodded, agreeing with Ella’s suggestion.

Maria Garcia’s house was on the outskirts of Zone 3 near the center, and at night, it was a city that never slept.

The lights were bright, with a vibrant nightlife.

Maria’s home was a two-story small building, living quarters on the second floor, and a small pub on the first floor.

The car stopped on the street, and it was already evening.

The sun turned gloomy, and shadows gradually enveloped the earth.

Carrying our backpacks, we walked into the pub, where there were not many customers, only two tables.

The small pub had a bar, with various barrels behind it, selling their own brewed beer, and behind the bar was a beautiful woman with long golden hair.

Unlike Ella’s yellow hair, it was a color of gold. The owner wore a white tank top, her chest bulging like two squeezed hamburgers.

Bronzed skin, wearing jeans, black thong pulled to either side of her waist, looking very sexy.

"Hey, Maria, our beer."

A table of customers raised their hands, and Maria picked up a bottle and walked to the table to set it down, collecting the change on the table.

As she turned, the man gave Maria a hard slap on the buttocks.

The proprietor turned and gave the man the middle finger, not angry, with a smile on her face.

This was her way of surviving.

I watched with interest.

Duke stared at her butt, "Great figure, there are many Colombian beauties."

"Colombia and Venezuela are cradles of models and beauty queens." Ella said proudly. "Venezuela has the most beauty queens, but all South Americans know, the country with the most beauties is Colombia!"

Maria walked to our table, she looked at Ella, frowning.

"Don’t recognize me? Maria?"

"God, Ella? Is that you? Thank God!"

Maria hugged Ella.

"You’ve been missing for a year, we’ve been looking everywhere for you, your uncle has been looking for you, he’ll be happy to see you."

"Can we find a quiet place?"

Maria looked up at me, seeming to understand something.

"Sorry, follow me." She led us to a compartment along the street, like a private room, with a curtain at the door, blocking the pub customers’ view.

"Ella, are you okay?"

"Have you seen Martina? She went home with me."

Maria bit her lip, seeming troubled.

"What’s the matter?" Ella looked at her face with a bad feeling.

"Some people say they’ve seen her around the central area; others say she’s in Zone 7."

"Really? She’s fine. Thank God."

"No, she’s not fine, she never went home."

"WHAT?" Ella looked at her friend, shocked.

"Like you, her parents kept posting missing person notices, but just a month ago, three masked men shot her parents dead in broad daylight.

Martina’s brother went to the police station, and when he came out, he was stabbed to death by a Venezuelan vagrant, right at the police station gate, with a lot of blood. Martina’s entire family was dead, no one cared about her, and no one reported her missing. The case was closed."

Ella clenched her fists.

Hearing this news, there was only fire in my heart, a silencing through murder.

"Who?" Ella stood up.

"I don’t know, but it involves you. Where did you go?"

"What’s the name of the bar you went to?" I interrupted the two girls’ conversation.

"Phoenix!" Maria affirmed, "Right down the street, near the alley by Zone 3."

I glanced at the dark night outside the window, then stood up.

"Duke, come with me to Phoenix."

"OK!" Duke put down his backpack. He made a victory sign to Maria, "We’ll bring Martina back."

"Martina has black hair, mixed race, a slim build, and oh, she has a star tattoo on the left side of her abdomen."

Duke gave Maria a thumbs-up, "Leave it to me." Then he stylishly adjusted the collar of his suit.

Women love heroes, Duke thought to himself.

We left the tavern and quickly found the Phoenix Bar.

Similar to Maria’s tavern, just larger in size.

Music was playing inside, and there were many people.

There was a young man with a buzzcut at the bar, wearing a vest and shirt, looking quite handsome.

Duke is Mexican, and he can speak fluent Spanish, as can I.

"Hey, business is good."

The bartender looked at me, smiling, "Never seen you before."

I took out a 20 US Dollar bill and placed it on the bar.

"What do you need?"

I placed 4 more bills, totaling one hundred dollars.

The bartender smiled happily and took out some hand-rolled cigarettes from under the bar.

"You’ll like these."

Duke picked up a joint, lit it, and took a puff, "Got anything stronger?"

The bartender set down his glass, "You can have whatever you want."

I looked at the bartender, knowing he wasn’t suspicious. Duke smoking weed made the bartender think we were just looking for fun.

I took out 300 dollars and placed it on the bar, "I’m looking for girls, young girls."

The bartender grinned, showing his white teeth, then pocketed the dollars from the bar.

"You wouldn’t care for the cheap stuff."

"Mm-hmm. I have refined tastes."

"If you’re just a regular, I’d suggest you go to the little building by the riverbank in Zone 7, near the river, there’s a two-story building with many girls there, you can do anything you want with them. It’s 30 dollars a go!"

"Anything goes?"

"Yes, even if you abuse them, as long as you don’t maim them, do whatever makes you happy. It’ll cost a bit more, 50 dollars, but I doubt you’d go to such a rundown place."

"You’re right."

"See anything you like?" The bartender nodded towards a table with three girls.

I glanced over; there were three girls drinking.

"Are they prostitutes?"

"No!"

"Oh?" I looked at the bartender with interest, "If they’re not prostitutes, how would they accompany me?"

"Just be willing to pay, give me 1000 dollars, and any of them will be in your hotel room tonight."

"I don’t want any trouble; what if they report it later?"

The bartender tapped the table, "Sir, do you know where you are?"

"Tanzande."

"That’s right. You can relax; they’ll disappear by tomorrow."

Ella was kidnapped by this bunch of scoundrels.

Even sold to the Cucuta Group.

They’re a bunch of human trafficking trash.

"I like quiet places. Now."

The bartender laughed, "How about the underground cellar? There’s an interesting room there."

I took out 1000 dollars and placed it on the bar.

"Follow me!"

I patted Duke on the shoulder, signaling him to stay, and followed the bartender to the bar’s cellar. Inside, there was a torture room.

No, it should be called a sadomasochism room.

There were shackles, whips, candles, handcuffs, and even needles.

The bartender picked up his phone and handed me the photo of the girls, "Which one do you like? Here, you can treat them however you want, just don’t kill them."

I picked up a needle and examined it carefully; it still had dried blood on it. Many women have been tortured here.

I turned around, smiling, with the needle in hand. Ella went through this; she was tortured here from the beginning.

"You’re an interesting guy, I like you."

"Thank you, I like money! Customers are gods."

"Rightly said, customers are gods, then repent."

"WHAT?" The bartender froze, staring at my face, trying to fathom my intentions.

I slowly walked towards the bartender, the smile on my face growing wider.

"Repent to me, thank me for my mercy!"