Ian Song and the others, hearing this news, all changed expression, immediately stood up, and rushed after Gavin Gan, who had already run out of the private room.
In another large private room inside the Welcome Guest Pavilion, nine men sat around a table.
Unlike ordinary people, all nine radiated a fierce, battle-hardened aura.
Sierra Chen was forcefully pinned in the arms of a scar-faced thug. Even worse, his rough hand was boldly groping her lower belly, making her feel both ashamed and furious. Sadly, his arm was shockingly strong, and with her drunk and weakened, she couldn’t break free no matter how hard she struggled.
"Brother Dao, let me toast you!" one of the men raised his glass to the scar-faced thug.
"Alright, bottoms up!" Brother Dao grinned, flashing a mouthful of yellow teeth. He picked up his glass, clinked it with the other man’s, then downed two taels of baijiu in one gulp. Smacking his thick lips, he shouted, "Damn, that feels good!"
"Brother Dao, do you know how much the boss is giving us this time?"
The man continued, and at his question, the other seven pricked up their ears. This job had been insanely dangerous—getting this shipment back to Flame City had taken everything they had. Twenty-eight men went to Taiwan, but only nine returned; the rest were either caught by anti-drug police or died under a hail of bullets. Facing a full-scale police assault, they still managed to bring back five hundred million yuan worth of goods, not a single piece missing. Just for that, they deserved a massive reward.
Brother Dao shot the man a dissatisfied look. "Bingzi, you’re way too impatient. You think the boss would ever short us?"
"You’re right, Brother Dao. I got ahead of myself—I'll punish myself with a drink!" Bingzi poured himself a full glass, downed it without so much as a frown.