Ribs walked over to the bed, leaned over and asked, "Brother. How are you feeling?"
Ao Guanhai looked down and saw that his right leg was covered with thick plaster and suspended.
He forced a smile uglier than crying, and turned his gaze to the butcher who also had difficulty walking. His voice was weak, but with a hint of ridicule: "Brother Butcher... It seems... It seems that I will be lame too in the future... We two brothers are really destined to be brothers!"
This self-deprecating joke made everyone feel uncomfortable.
The calmness on Libus's face instantly shattered. "Guan Hai, I'll make them pay a hundredfold for that leg of yours! I'll settle those debts one by one, tenfold, a hundredfold!"
Ao Guanhai leaned against the cold headboard of the medical cabin. The pungent smell of disinfectant could not cover up the faint smell of blood oozing from his wounds.
Reeves' sonorous and powerful words echoed in the ward. The phrase "a hundred times the price" carried the familiar ruthlessness and brotherhood, and hit Ao Guanhai's heart like a heavy hammer.
However, this time, the passion and desire for revenge in Ao Guanhai's heart did not surge.
On the contrary, a deep fatigue, like a cold tide, slowly overwhelmed him.
Ever since he started living on the streets of Chicago, his world has been filled with smoke and death, and he has always been on the brink of life and death.
Ao Guanhai looked at his right leg wrapped in thick plaster and bandages, the source of the severe pain. His fingertips unconsciously stroked the cold surface of the plaster, but a voice became clearer and clearer in his mind.
He raised his head and his eyes fell on Ribs' face.
That look was a mixture of so many things - fatigue, fear, insight, and a calmness that was almost compassion.
"Brother..." he began, his voice hoarse. "Do you still remember... the time when we attacked the Daley family?" Ao Guanhai's Adam's apple rolled with difficulty, as if he was reliving the feeling of suffocation on the verge of death. "Back then, I had already... died once. Daley Vincent pierced my chest. At that time, I felt like a torn bag with nothing inside..."
He twitched his lips and glanced at the butcher standing quietly beside him. "If it weren't for the blood transfusion... I would have died on that cold operating table long ago. How could I still be alive now..."
He paused, the violent coughing made his face flush abnormally, and the wound on his chest seemed to be torn apart again.
"This time... I thought I was going to die..." Ao Guanhai took a deep breath of the air that smelled of medicine, "But God... let me survive again."
Everyone looked at Ao Guanhai in a daze, not understanding what he meant by these words.
Ao Guanhai raised his head, his eyes slowly sweeping over the faces of each of his brothers: "Brother, you have helped me live like a human being over the years. I will remember this kindness in my next life. And Brother Butcher held my gun for me, and Fox blocked the knife for me..."
He choked up a little. "But every time I close my eyes, it's either the blood in the Dalys' basement or the shattered entrails on Milwaukee Street smeared across my face..."
What Ao Guanhai said reminded Ribs of the days when he first joined the Python Gang on the streets of Chicago.
At this moment, Reeves also had a guilty look on his face. Ao Guanhai had indeed suffered a lot following him.
Ao Guanhai continued, "Brother, let's just forget about it this time! Stop seeking revenge! I've saved this life... and I don't want to see anyone bury it in my grave again!"
"Guan Hai, you don't have to worry about these things, just take care of it!"
Reeves patted him on the shoulder and replied, "I'm going to crush that old man Thorne's head and the debt he inflicted on you before I can let him down."
"Stop it, big brother... We have a casino, a foundation, and a security company... None of these are enough for us brothers to live freely for ten lifetimes." A bloody sob rolled down Ao Guanhai's throat, and he uttered the words everyone has heard, "Sooner or later, you will pay for what you have done. I don't want to see our brothers' bodies gone missing..."
The ward fell into a brief, suffocating silence. The smell of disinfectant seemed to have solidified, leaving only the monotonous and persistent beeping of the ECG monitor, hammering at everyone's nerves.
Ao Guanhai's words were like a heavy hammer, hitting everyone's heart again and again.
Ribs looked at Ao Guanhai's pale and tired face, and his leg wrapped in thick plaster hanging in the air, and a strong feeling of discomfort welled up in his heart.
He opened his mouth slightly, as if he wanted to say something - perhaps a word of reassurance, perhaps a word of comfort.
But he said nothing in the end. Since he had embarked on this path, there was no turning back.
"Ten lifetimes of freedom..." Libus's voice was very soft, almost like a sigh, but the complex emotions contained in it were extremely clear.
He did not look into Ao Guanhai's eyes again, but looked out the window. The outline of Chicago, a city illuminated by neon lights but hiding endless darkness and blood, was faintly visible.
Stop? Live in peace? These were never options for Reeves. When the knife was at the edge of his heart, retreating meant death, or even worse humiliation.
"Brother," Reeves' voice deepened, carrying a steely hardness and a barely perceptible hoarseness. "You're right. You've walked through hell for us brothers in your life... I remember that."
Ribs paused and didn't continue.
He turned abruptly, without saying goodbye, and walked straight towards the ward door, the hem of his windbreaker picking up a gust of cold wind. Alfred followed him silently, half a step behind him, like a silent shadow.
Ao Guanhai knew that he could not change Ribs's mind, so he could only shake his head silently, lying on the hospital bed and closing his eyes.
He could sense other figures beside the bed—the Butcher, Fawkes. They might still be standing there, or they might have quietly left the ward.
…
A few weeks later, Thorne, who was far away in New York, was so overwhelmed that he had no time to care about what was happening in Chicago.
Make friends with the Governor, wipe out the Crips, and defeat Thorne.
These things were enough for Mayor Jefferson to see Reebs' political potential. Before Reebs could speak, he personally went to Reebs' office.
The heavy wooden door was pushed open silently, and Jefferson's face was filled with almost deliberate enthusiasm.
Reeves warmly invited him to sit down. Before they had even spoken for a few words, Jefferson said apologetically, "Mr. Speaker... I must formally apologize for the hasty mayoral order I issued earlier. I was under pressure from some false public opinion... Alas, we were all misled! That mayoral order was in no way directed at you or your Blue Roof Project, which benefits the people of Chicago! Please understand this clearly!"
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