As Joseph’s men gradually closed in on Gustavo and his men, the Mexicans formed a protective circle around
Gustavo. Despite the mounting tension, Gustavo maintained a cold and somewhat angry demeanor. He felt like he
was the alpha, and when the tiger fell, the dogs would pounce.
In his former life outside prison, Gustavo commanded thousands of troops. Anyone who dared to cross his path on
the street risked a swift, pistol-inflicted end. But now, within the confines of an American prison, he found himself in
a passive position, surrounded by a group of brawny, brainless men.
Feeling outnumbered and cornered, Gustavo couldn’t help but shout, “Joseph, what is the meaning of this?”
Joseph abandoned his followers and stepped outside the encirclement to address Gustavo. He pointed to his group
of followers with a stern expression and said, “Gustavo, you’ve been living too lavishly in Brooklyn Prison. Some of
my boys haven’t tasted real steak in over a decade, and yet you enjoy it daily. You even put caviar worth tens of
thousands of dollars in your hamburger, and let’s not forget the Romanee-Conti wine, worth thousands per bottle.
Today, I realized the taste of Romanee-Conti for the first time!”
Joseph continued, looking somewhat embarrassed, “Gustavo, there’s an old Chinese saying, ‘Worry not about
scarcity but inequality.’ You insist on claiming privileges here, and it’s making my brothers restless. They want steak,
caviar, and Romanee-Conti too. I can’t resolve this problem for them, so I’ll let them settle it with you.”
One of Joseph’s men cheered and shouted, “Yes! Why should Gustavo be the only one enjoying steak and red wine
here?!”
Gustavo responded disdainfully, “That’s because you don’t have the money I do. If you were as wealthy as me, you
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtcould indulge in these luxuries too. But you don’t have the money, and neither does your boss. Blaming me is
pointless.”
This incited anger from Joseph’s men. One of them retorted, “It’s none of your business how much money you have
outside. Even if you guzzle all the red wine in the United States, we wouldn’t care. But when you’re in here, you
must follow the rules.”
Gustavo scoffed, “Rules? Tell me what the rules are here.”
The response from Joseph’s men was unanimous, “You can’t have privileges in Brooklyn Prison!”
Gustavo remained oblivious to the danger that loomed over him. He continued to believe that these people were
targeting his followers rather than himself. The man who had been filled with pride for most of his life now wore a
sarcastic expression as he spoke, “A bunch of ignorant Americans! You may not fully comprehend my power. The
privileges I enjoy here go far beyond what you see! When I wish to indulge, I do so in lavish parlors. My men
meticulously select beauties from all corners of the United States for my pleasure. Some of these beauties travel
thousands of kilometers just to spend three hours with me, and they leave with tens of thousands of dollars. I can
even have my men bring your wives to kneel before me and serve me. These are experiences you people will
never have in your lifetime!”
Gustavo’s words flowed with confidence, and he reveled in the satisfaction of his fantasies. However, the
expressions of his followers darkened as they grew more despondent.
They too believed they were the ones being targeted, not their boss. Consequently, the more their boss provoked
Joseph’s men, the more determined they became to teach them a lesson later on.
One of Joseph’s group, consumed by anger, gritted his teeth and turned to Joseph, declaring, “Boss, I can’t tolerate
this rotten Mexican any longer! I’m going to kill him today!”
Joseph sneered and responded, “Brothers, feel free to act boldly today. Whatever happens, I will take responsibility
for it!”
Joseph issued the command, and his boys shouted as they surged forward, closing in on Gustavo’s group like a
relentless tide.
Gustavo’s men found themselves facing a formidable adversary, armed only with plastic dinner plates and spoons
as makeshift weapons. However, their opponents were American muscle men who spent hours every day working
on their strength. In such close-quarters combat, the victor was determined by the strength of their fists. It was
evident to the naked eye that every punch thrown by Joseph’s men brimmed with determination. With each blow,
the faces of Gustavo’s men contorted in pain, and it became almost routine for them to be knocked unconscious by
the relentless pummeling.
As a result, after several confrontations, Gustavo’s men were beaten into submission, eventually kneeling down and
begging for mercy.
Gustavo, who had once been arrogantly confident, watched as his men fell one by one. Initially, he hoped the
onslaught would cease, but it became evident that there was no intention of stopping. At that moment, Gustavo’s
once-proud face began to pale, and for the first time, fear etched its way across his features.
As Joseph’s men closed in on him, Gustavo was gripped by fear, and he couldn’t help but shout, “Have you
forgotten who I am? I am Gustavo Sanchez! A renowned figure with billions of dollars in wealth and thousands of
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmprivate armed forces at my command! If I so choose, remember this well, I can eliminate every single one of you,
even your families!”
Joseph responded with disdain, “Come on, Gustavo, using your army in Mexico won’t save you here. This is the
United States, the land of the free. If you’re as powerful as you claim, why haven’t you called in your thousands of
private armed forces to rescue you from Brooklyn Prison? You know as well as I do that there are only a few dozen
armed guards in this entire facility.”
Gustavo found himself at a loss for words momentarily. In a last-ditch effort, he said, “Joseph, I am a man who
seeks retribution for his wrongs. In Mexico, if someone wrongs me, I may not have ten thousand, but I have
thousands seeking revenge. If we put an end to this matter now, I promise you, I will not seek vengeance. What do
you think of this proposal?”
Joseph sneered and replied, “What do you think, men?”
With a sweeping gesture of his arms, Joseph beckoned to his men on either side. One of them immediately
exclaimed, “To hell with the proposal! Let’s kill him!”
A chorus of agreement followed, “Yes! Let’s kill him!”
In an instant, several boys brandished hidden homemade daggers from their sleeves. Without exception, these
daggers were crafted from angle iron, deceptively simple yet incredibly sharp, featuring a ninety- degree right
angle. A single thrust could pierce through flesh and create a sizable wound.
Gustavo’s spirits sank as he observed the array of weapons.
At that moment, he grasped Joseph’s true intent—his life was the target.
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