Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 748 - 438: Deserve to Kill!_1

"See? This is what happens when you dare to offend us!"

The man wielding the whip cried out triumphantly as he raised it high.

Originally a fishmonger, he had been put out of work by the Gang's monopoly and had become a desperate soul, just like the onlookers struggling to survive.

He and many other fishmongers had once suffered the Gang's brutal beatings, robbed of everything necessary for survival.

But when he discovered these two sneaking around, fishing, he immediately reported them, hoping to join the Gang's ranks.

The onlookers muttered. Dammit, why wasn't it me who found them? Lucky bastards usually have their lives cut short. Look at that smug bastard, why doesn't he just drop dead?

The eyes of the crowd glinted with envy and jealousy. They clenched their teeth helplessly, yet this only heightened the whip wielder's enjoyment of the power his position afforded him.

Thinking of this, he felt an inexplicable surge of strength flow through his gaunt body. He lashed out with the whip again, a grin spreading across his face as if he were striding toward a bright future.

"Stop hitting them! Stop it!"

A man pushed his way through the crowd, his heart aching as if pierced by knives at the sight of his parents' agony.

His appearance caused a stir among the spectators of this tedious game; merely seeking amusement, they hoped the situation would escalate further.

The Gang members also took notice of the man. The lieutenant clearly hadn't expected anyone to intervene. He signaled with a raised hand, and several Guards, brandishing their daggers and short swords, menacingly stepped forward.

"Sir! Sir! This is all a misunderstanding," the man pleaded. Despite his urgency, a servile smile automatically appeared on his face. He approached the lieutenant and subtly passed him a money pouch.

"My parents were merely washing their feet in the water; they wouldn't dare disobey your orders, sir. This must be a misunderstanding."

The lieutenant hadn't expected this man, who looked like a refugee, to have money. His expression faltered for a moment, unable to process it.

However, his hand reached out without hesitation. He weighed the pouch, and a faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.

"Hmm, there does seem to be a small misunderstanding here."

Upon hearing this, the man sighed in relief. The money didn't matter; as long as his parents weren't harmed, that was all that mattered.

However, the lieutenant pocketed the money pouch and immediately changed his tune.

"Therefore, we'll need to conduct a more detailed investigation."

Having worked in the merchant caravan for so many years, how could the man not understand what that meant?

It was clearly extortion. The small amount he had given them wasn't enough to satisfy their greed; they wanted more.

The man no longer had any reason to live. He had abandoned the meaning of money and didn't care about what little he possessed.

Unfortunately, he forgot what kind of people these were. Having revealed his wealth to them, how could they possibly let him go without bleeding him dry?

But the problem is, I have no more money!

"My brothers also need to help you investigate thoroughly, right? There are so many of us here," the lieutenant hinted, thinking the man hadn't understood.

"This is all the money I have left. It's all here."

"This much money is only enough for one. You choose," the lieutenant said coldly, laying his cards on the table.

I don't believe it, the lieutenant thought. Who has money at a time like this? Anyone who can produce some must have connections; it's definitely not just this little.

The man fell silent. He had already realized on his way here that it wouldn't be this simple.

"Then just kill them. I'll take the bodies back."

"Are you threatening me?" The lieutenant instantly flew into a rage, gesturing with his hand. "Grab him and string him up!"

I don't believe he won't talk after some torture!

Hearing the lieutenant's command, the Guards immediately surrounded him, brandishing their weapons.

If the man had surrendered earlier, it would have been one thing. But now, his calmness in the face of these men actually put pressure on the Guards.

Ordinary people would be kneeling and begging for mercy at a sight like this. Why isn't he reacting?

The man wasn't a caravan Guard, but having roamed far and wide over the years and crossed blades with bandits and robbers in his youth, he had seen blood. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

It was only because he got married and had attachments that he became unwilling to take risks, choosing to become a coachman.

But at this moment, it was clear that none of that mattered anymore.

To expect a "dead man" to fear injury or death was somewhat absurd.

The lieutenant also felt the pressure. Could I have provoked someone important?

For a moment, he felt a pang of regret. If I had known, I would have just taken the money and let them go…

Just then, laughter erupted from the surrounding crowd, and some even started jeering.

"Fight!"

"Fight!"

This situation put the lieutenant in an even more difficult position, caught on the horns of a dilemma. If they fought and won, it would be fine. But if they lost, the Gang would lose its deterrent power, and more people would rise in defiance.

These people would spread word of today's events, and then the Gang would make an example of him.

Not fighting was an even bigger problem. The Gang would still lose its deterrent power, his underlings would question him, and if any of them became desperate, it was uncertain if he would even survive the night.

The Guards, still awaiting their leader's response, grew anxious. Their previously arrogant expressions gradually faded, and some even began to sweat.

The man looked at them and seemed to realize something. So, they were just putting on a show.

When I stopped being afraid, they became afraid instead.

But not all these Guards were veterans. That one new prick, who couldn't grasp the situation, was still immersed in the "power" his new status brought him. He was eager to display his strength—or rather, the Gang's strength.