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🕑 Added 2025-03-09 21:02:29 +0000 UTCWind in the Smoke
Chapter 161 - Consequences
South of Montana, in the northern part of the city of Missoula, there was a grand mansion covering an area of eight hundred square meters. This area was previously a museum, but later, the head of the Montana Liquor Board and a powerful player in the real estate battle, along with his brother, bought this land through his connections. He then transformed it into a massive mansion.
This was the social reality of Montana, the famous state that, along with Texas, was the last stronghold representing cowboys, where things were still settled the old-fashioned way. For some people, buying a dozen square meters of a house required exhausting work, while others could easily live in a mansion and enjoy the rest of their lives without breaking a sweat.
The liquor board association was established to control what was sold in Montana, just like everywhere else. With his position on the Liquor Board, he could revoke licenses whenever he wanted. As for personal enemies and anyone he saw as a threat, they hired mercenaries for dirty jobs.
The current president of the liquor association was Malcolm Beck, a man of great power, which granted him the privilege of doing whatever he pleased. After Malcolm and his brother went too far in their conversations with Dante, they never again brought up the topic with the Dutton family.
But their ambition was fixed on that family, and more than power, what they saw was a strong competitor who could provide them with a lot of entertainment. However, they were patient; they would strike once they discovered who Dante Dutton truly was. Until then, they had remained on the sidelines.
Malcolm was no fool. He hadn’t risen to power simply by buying and selling land at low prices. He knew that the little display of strength Dante had shown him wasn’t all he was capable of, which was precisely why he had stayed out of it.
As the current president of the liquor board association, Malcolm was the largest shareholder in numerous nightclub franchises, as well as the biggest stakeholder in a major real estate company.
At the same time, he was also said to be a fanatic patriot.
The Beck brothers' grand mansion was surrounded by a 4.5-meter-high fence, topped with unpleasant barbed wire.
Perhaps the mansion’s owner believed that, relative to visual impact, internal security was more important.
Just as he had once said in words still remembered: It doesn’t matter if the quality of the police is poor; as long as you're in Montana, you can handle things your own way.
At that moment, it was already one in the morning. A shadow suddenly appeared outside the mansion’s wall.
The shadow threw a small stone at the barbed wire atop the wall to determine whether it was electrified with high-voltage current. After confirming it wasn’t, the dark figure slowly climbed the wall.
Once over the wall, the man saw no guard dogs coming after him.
So, he thought, Maybe this Malcolm guy doesn’t like dogs. Seems like we have something in common.
Although there were no dogs, the man didn’t jump down immediately, as he spotted infrared beams covering the entire area in front of him through the infrared goggles he was wearing.
But for this man, this was a much better condition than dealing with guard dogs he would have to kill.
On the other side of the mansion, at that moment, the master of the house, Malcolm Beck, was engaged in an activity far too strenuous for someone his age.
The man was already well into his years, and age spots had begun appearing on his body.
He was leaning over a woman’s body, moving violently.
Perhaps believing he could extract vitality from a young body, he had a particular preference for younger women.
A college student was his "dinner" for the night.
He was quite proud of the fact that he could still put in a good effort, even at his age.
However, time is long for a human in these situations, after all.
After enduring for a few minutes, he finally collapsed on top of the college student’s body like a dying fish, breathless.
“Malcolm, you’re more special than people say,” the college student deliberately panted, speaking in a seductive tone.
Though she knew deep down that this was all fake, her words greatly pleased Malcolm.
“Rest assured, I’ll help you find a good position in the real estate business in Montana.”
“Thank you, Mr. Beck. I’ll never forget your kindness.” Though the man’s tone sounded as if he were giving alms, the student still put on a grateful expression.
The college student’s look, in some way, stimulated Malcolm’s sense of superiority. He enjoyed seeing others look at him with gratitude.
“Turn off the light, I want to sleep for a bit.” Malcolm’s intense drowsiness dismissed any idea of going for another round.
“Yes, good night, Mr. Beck.” The college student immediately turned off the light.
After sleeping for an unknown amount of time, Malcolm was suddenly awakened by a sharp pain. He opened his eyes to see a figure dressed entirely in black staring at him while gripping his jaw tightly.
The severe pain coming from his jaw, caught in the figure’s grasp, left him frozen.
Being suddenly grabbed like that filled Malcolm’s heart with panic.
He wanted to free himself from the figure’s hand but quickly realized he couldn’t move his body.
He was unable to move, not because he was tied up, but because he couldn’t even lift a finger—as if his body was no longer his own.
This unprecedented terror made him scream uncontrollably. But with his jaw clamped tightly by the man, all that came out was a strangled, gasping sound.
“If you don’t want to die, shut the hell up,” the man in black coldly whispered.
The fear of death made Malcolm ignore his strange physical condition and go silent. A terrified look appeared on his face as he stared at the man in black before him.
Due to the backlight, he could only see the person’s full black attire, not the contours of his face. But judging by his voice, Malcolm felt that this was someone he didn’t know.
Is this a robbery? Or an assassin sent by my enemies? Malcolm swore that if he survived this, he would immediately fire all his security guards.
How is it possible that his security team hadn’t noticed someone breaking into the mansion?
“Are you Malcolm Beck?” the man asked, releasing his jaw.
“I… I am Malcolm. I can give you anything you want, just please don’t kill me.”
Even though he could now speak, the president of Montana’s liquor association didn’t dare make a sound to call for help. He knew that if he did, he would be killed instantly.
“Anything I want? Then look at me.”
At his words, Malcolm involuntarily lifted his head to look at him.
After a moment, the man in black slowly asked, “Now, do you know who sent me?”
“I don’t.” The panic in Malcolm’s eyes faded, replaced by a blank expression.
“Didn’t your brother call you this morning about the attack on the Dutton family?”
“Yes, he mentioned something,” Malcolm replied without hesitation.
“Did you send people to assassinate the Dutton family?”
“No.”
Hearing his answer, the man in black cursed in his mind, Just another idiot with no answers.
“Did you provide resources to someone to kill the Dutton family?”
“Did he send you?”
The man in black sighed, pulled out a syringe from a black metal case, and muttered, “You’re on the blacklist anyway, so rest now.”
“Wait, I really don’t know anything!” Malcolm’s attempt to scream was cut short by a blow to his head.
Once finished, the man pulled out his phone and made a call. “All set. We have what we need to sink him.”
“Good. Do it.”
“Yes, boss.”
Comments
Nato J
Dante will hopefully have people take over liquor board association in Montana and Beck Brothers business can go under another name, to hide Dante Business Empire.
Nato J
There goes the Beck Brothers, one less problem to deal with.
