Landlord in the Arctic

The veterans sprang into action, piling into their vehicles.

Gruus lay in the snow, his face a mask of bewilderment.

Just moments ago, this group of men, looking like vicious demons, had dragged him at gunpoint from the Blue Cloud House. He’d nearly pissed himself in fear.

But who could have guessed that after just a few questions, they would toss him aside in the snow like a piece of trash.

Feng Mountain pulled open a car door, but then seemed to remember something. He turned to look at Gruus, his eyes filled with undisguised contempt, and said coldly,

"Oh, and one more thing. Listen carefully. You’re going to walk straight back to the ranch. Not one step out of line. Got it? You walk! If I find out you didn’t, you’d better be careful. Your fate will be worse than you can possibly imagine. I swear to God!"

In Feng Mountain’s eyes, Gruus was the biggest coward of them all.

It was true he hadn’t been the one to sell out Jenny.

But as a brother, he had acted so spinelessly when his sister was in danger and forcibly taken away.

He just stood by and watched it all happen, without the courage to step up.

Even if he was terrified of those people and didn’t dare try to rescue her himself, he could have at least called the police, right?

What’s more, there were plenty of employees at Melon Ranch, and they weren’t afraid to use their guns.

If he had just run back to the ranch to sound the alarm or make a phone call, there was no way that Gaston character would have been bold enough to actually take her.

But no. For such a big guy, he had absolutely no backbone.

He was a complete and utter waste.

After speaking, Feng Mountain yanked open the passenger door and got in.

"Boss, where to now?" Yves asked calmly as he started the engine.

"Just head straight. I’ll give you directions." Feng Mountain raised a hand, pointing down the street ahead.

Yves didn’t ask any more questions and stomped on the gas without hesitation.

Instantly, the SUV let out a deep, powerful roar.

The vehicle shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, its wheels spinning furiously on the snow and kicking up a cloud of crystalline mist.

Seeing this, the other three SUVs quickly fell in line behind it.

The convoy, like some monstrous, swift beast, sped away at lightning speed, leaving only deep tire tracks that were soon covered by the falling snow.

Gruus just stared blankly until the convoy had completely vanished from sight. Only then did his fear begin to subside, and he dared to shakily and painstakingly climb up from the snow.

His eyes were still wide with terror, and he kept glancing back over his shoulder, afraid the men would reappear at any moment.

He thought about the Asian man’s final warning.

A chill ran down Gruus’s spine.

He then recalled the scene that had just unfolded at Blue Cloud House.

The members of the Outlaw Nation Biker Gang, who were usually so tyrannical, had been terrified of these men. That made him even more afraid to make a wrong move.

After thinking it over, Gruus couldn’t help but shiver. He subconsciously zipped his jacket all the way up, trying to shield himself from the biting wind.

Then, he took a deep breath and, facing into a wind that cut like a knife, began the slow, heavy walk toward Melon Ranch.

....

Following Feng Mountain’s directions, the convoy re-entered the urban area of West Yellowstone City.

The city streets were sparsely populated, and the houses on either side flew past the car windows. Everything seemed normal.

However, just as they were cutting through a residential street, disaster struck.

Suddenly, a police car shot out from the side like a runaway horse. It executed a beautiful but dangerous fishtail, swinging sideways to block the middle of the street and instantly cutting off the convoy’s path.

Luckily, Yves had quick reflexes. In almost the same instant, he slammed on the Brake and jerked the Steering Wheel to the right.

The vehicle shook violently, swerving and coming to a stop as it hit the curb.

But the three vehicles behind them weren’t so lucky. They were too close to react effectively and plowed straight onto residents’ lawns.

One of the cars even crashed right into a snowman in someone’s yard. With a POOF, the snowman instantly disintegrated into a shower of flying snow, its broken carrot nose and coal eyes scattering everywhere.

"FACK!" Yves roared in anger, shoving his door open and charging out like an enraged bull.

’What kind of lunatic drives like that? If I hadn’t been so quick, I would’ve smashed right into that cop car!’

’It’s like he’s got a death wish!’

Feng Mountain, rubbing his head where it had hit the dashboard, irritably pushed his door open and got out as well.

Meanwhile, the young officer in the patrol car seemed stunned by the chaotic scene before him, at a complete loss for what to do.

He stared dumbly through his window, gawking at the crookedly parked SUVs on the street and the deep skid marks in the snow.

Just moments before, a dramatic scene had unfolded in the West Yellowstone City Sheriff’s office. The phone rang urgently. When the dispatcher answered, they learned it was a "helpful" tip from the Biker Gang. The caller claimed that members of an outside gang, carrying heavy firepower, had kidnapped a man from the Blue Cloud House and were now fleeing toward Perfume Street.

When the dispatcher reported the situation to Sheriff Sean, the veteran lawman almost laughed so hard he spat out the coffee he was drinking. ’The Blue Cloud House? Everyone in West Yellowstone City knows that’s the headquarters of the Outlaw Nation Biker Gang! Whoever made that call must have eaten some expired cheese and rotted their brain! It doesn’t take a genius to figure out this was a gang fight. The Outlaw Nation probably lost and were shamelessly calling the cops.’

But even though he knew all this, as a "partner," Sheriff Sean still notified his nephew, Little Tom, who was out on patrol. He told him to keep an eye out for the situation along his route and specifically instructed him that as long as these guys weren’t harming any residents, he should just let them go. There was no need to get involved in this mess.

After receiving the order, Little Tom drove his patrol car around the streets, searching. When he drove onto this residential street and saw a convoy of Chevrolet SUVs approaching, he had a rush of blood to the head and drove forward to block them.

And that’s what led to the thrilling scene from the beginning.

However, just as Feng Mountain and Yves, faces full of fury, were storming menacingly toward the police car,

the young officer inside finally snapped out of it, a flash of panic crossing his face.

He fumbled with the door and scrambled out of the driver’s seat.

He then quickly dropped down behind the police car, gripping a revolver tightly in both hands. He held it up high, a look of self-righteous justice on his face, and yelled at the top of his lungs,

"I’m a West Yellowstone City Sheriff’s deputy! Don’t move! Hands on your heads!"

Yves was speechless.

Feng Mountain was dumbfounded.

The angry expressions on their faces froze, replaced by looks of exasperated disbelief.

’It seems like *we’re* the victims here,’ Feng Mountain thought. ’We get blocked by a cop car out of nowhere and nearly get into a serious accident.’

’And now we’re the ones being treated like criminals.’

At that moment, however, the young officer, having finished shouting his warning, finally noticed what was happening.

The doors of the SUVs that had careened into the residents’ yards were thrown open, and a dozen or so men poured out like a flood.

And every single one of them was tightly gripping an AR-15 rifle.

Their faces were grim, and they were furiously storming toward him.

"FACK!!!"

The young officer couldn’t help but curse. A wave of intense fear washed over him, and large beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.

’I’m not the invincible Lambo from *First Blood*, and I’m not the bulletproof T-800 from *The Terminator*.’

’A single revolver against a dozen AR-15s.’

’That’s suicide!’

He immediately dove back into the driver’s seat, grabbed the radio, and screamed into it, his voice cracking,

"Requesting backup, requesting backup! 145 Oak Street! More than ten subjects, carrying heavy firepower! I repeat, subjects are carrying heavy firearms!"

After frantically radioing for help, the young officer watched the men get closer and closer.

He knew he was hopelessly outnumbered. Survival was all that mattered.

Steeling himself, he stood up straight and tossed his revolver away.

The pistol landed in the snow.

Then, he raised both hands high in the air and shouted, his voice trembling with desperation,

"Guys, I surrender! I surrender! Please, don’t hurt me! My uncle is Sheriff Sean of West Yellowstone City!"

At this point, his so-called sense of justice had vanished without a trace.

All that remained was heart-pounding fear and helplessness.

...