The godfather and The young 4

04.

After adapting to the new life, the young man faced his first assignment.

Early in the morning, the professor took him out. The car drove through One's estate, and the professor asked, "Have you making love with master?"

The young man remained silent.

"You are quite difficult to deal with. Are you so indifferent to everyone other than master?"

"I am not obligated to answer personal questions related to master," the young man replied.

"You're indeed a good puppy, " the professor chuckled. "Well, let's not try to get closer. Let's keep it professional. Later, I'll take you to a 'bakery,' but in reality, it's a place to store 'feed.'"

Cocaine, the young man thought.

The professor continued, "You're aware that we've been getting our supplies from the gang 'Red Gang.' Unfortunately, the second-in-command of Red Gang recently killed the leader, and the successor is Red Gang's crown prince, Wei Xiao. That guy's got a few screws loose; he's more like a puppet emperor in Red Gang. The former second-in-command, his uncle, is ambitious and aims to use Master as a channel to enter the political arena."

The young man nodded.

"So, he reduced the quantity of goods provided to us or used tactics like price hikes to exert pressure, hoping Master would intervene for him. But, of course, Master can't help him; the connection between Master and the gang is a secret."

"Though getting rid of him wouldn't be difficult, we don't want to wade into that mess. The smartest move is to use someone else's knife for the job. The internal dynamics of the Red Gang are too complicated; killing that person would be like poking a hornet's nest for no good reason. However, dealing with alternative channels outside the Red Gang is troublesome and risky. So, our solution is to seize the goods from other downstream members of the Red Gang," the professor explained. "That's what we're doing today."

The car pulled into the bread factory, and the young man followed the professor out of the car.

The factory was filled with flour, making it challenging to discern whether it concealed any drugs. Towards the back, there was an office, and the professor led the young man inside. Several people were already waiting, and upon seeing the professor, they greeted him.

"Today, we're heading to the territory of the military bigshot S, one of the downstream factions of the Red Gang. It's an abandoned military base. The place is now guarded by mercenaries, and one ton of cocaine will be transported from the West Harbor this morning. The base is heavily populated, so we'll try to settle things on the way," the professor explained. He unfolded a paper map on the table, saying, "They'll take the old industrial road around the outskirts."

The young man leaned in, thinking, "The professor is quite old-fashioned, still using a paper map."

"The road is almost deserted, and with S having a military and police background, the government is hesitant to intervene. Therefore, their vigilance during the cargo transport is quite lax. It's just convenient for us to take them down in one go. The vehicle transporting the goods is a military truck. We'll surround them from three directions. Do you have a driver's license?" the professor asked, looking at the young man.

"I can drive," the young man replied.

"Really? You don't have a driver's license?"

The young man smiled, "Brother, we're about to commit robbery. Is a driver's license that important?"

Several people present laughed, and the professor felt a bit embarrassed. "Well, even so, it's still the first time. You better ride with me for now. There's a hairpin turn at the 14th kilometer mark on the road. There's a shallow slope below it. Hopefully, we can deal with the military truck there. Usually, there will be five motorcycles escorting the truck. Everyone should be careful," the professor explained.

After briefing on the mission details, the professor handed the young man a helmet. "Don't cause trouble for the master. Don't reveal your face or anyone's name. Your code name is 'Loyal Dog,' and that's what we'll call you."

The young man nodded.

After making the necessary preparations, the group hit the road in three cars with a total of nine people. They were driving ordinary vans with "Hamburgers/Toast Wholesale" printed on the doors.

The young man sat beside the professor, and the driver, nicknamed "Zebra," wore a striped helmet. He was very chatty, engaging in small talk along the way. "It's quite unexpected that the master actually took in a little dog. Doesn't he look young? Are you scared on your first mission?" he asked.

The young man couldn't be bothered to respond.

"Don't talk to him. Besides the master's questions, this guy is like a mute," the professor replied sharply. "We're almost there. Hurry up and put on your fancy helmet, and by the way, keep quiet."

The group parked their cars on the roadside slope and waited for a while until they spotted their target.

Initially, two heavy-duty motorcycles appeared. The professor, using a radio, instructed everyone to remain calm. Soon after, the military truck showed up, and no one made a move. Two motorcycles trailed the military truck. A few seconds later, the last motorcycle in the rear stopped and approached the side of the car where the young man and the others were. Suddenly, the professor opened the car door and dealt with the rider, taking his place on the motorcycle.

"Let's go," he ordered.

Zebra muttered, "Every time, he takes the coolest role for himself."

The box truck surged forward as if out of control, speeding down the road. Zebra slammed the gas pedal, glancing at the young man through the rearview mirror. He remained calm, clicked his tongue, and quickly caught up with the military truck.

The professor had already shot down one of the riders on the military truck. There were still five people on it, all aiming their guns at the professor, who had to evade the gunfire.

The young man opened the sliding doors on both sides of the truck. "Mr. Zebra, a bit further ahead."

"Don't call me Mr. Zebra; it sounds like a host from a children's show," he grumbled.

Ignoring Zebra's comment, the young man brought the truck closer to one of the riders on the trailing military truck. The rider aimed his gun at the young man, but he acted faster, grabbing the gun barrel and pulling the rider into the truck. Moments later, he tossed the rider out through the opposite door. Zebra cheered, and the young man took aim at the military truck's wheels but suddenly stopped.

Using the radio to contact the professor, he asked, "Brother, can I get into the driver's seat of their truck?"

"Sure, but why?"

"We're approaching fourteen kilometers. If we go any further, we'll get too close to the base. The personnel on the military truck might call for reinforcements. We have no hope at the hairpin turn. We should secure the initiative first. Keep a distance from the base."

The professor agreed, and the young man instructed Zebra to move a bit forward. Taking cover behind the other vehicles, they closely followed the military truck. The driver of the military truck opened the door and started shooting at the young man. Dodging behind the truck's body, the young man seized the opportunity, jumped over, and delivered a powerful kick to the driver's face. The military truck skidded, crashing into the slope.

Hanging onto the military truck's door, the young man faced the recovering driver attempting to shake him off. In the back seat, everyone had already met their demise, and no one cared about this side of the struggle.

Meanwhile, the professor arrived on his motorcycle on the other side, firing at the driver. The young man took advantage, pulled the driver out, and threw him aside. Sitting in the driver's seat, he looked bewildered. The professor on the other side shouted, "What are you doing?!"

"I don't know how to drive a manual transmission."

The professor rolled his eyes in exasperation, "Clutch! Step on the brake and then the clutch!"

The young man followed the instructions, bringing the military truck to a halt. Subsequently, the professor leaned into the vehicle, pulled the handbrake, and said, "Get yourself a proper driver's license for a manual transmission."

The young man shrugged.

Quickly, they unloaded the cargo before the reinforcements could arrive and left the scene.

The young man's excellent performance on his first mission reached One's ears. He called him into the room, "You did well on your first mission. What reward would you like?"

The young man looked at him, "Master."

One continued waiting for him to speak, only to realize that the young man had already made a request. The reward he sought was One himself.

One then said, "Go take a shower."

The water washed away the stains of blood. The young man had wondered why One could trust him so suddenly, even bringing him into his estate overnight.

However, when he found himself once again naked in One's possession, the young man suddenly understood. He meant nothing to One; at their first meeting, he had even killed for tow thousand dollars. He didn't believe that One hadn't thoroughly investigated him. After careful scrutiny, the man concluded that the young man was indeed a pitiful person with nothing to offer.

A person like that, offer him a little kindness, and he'll risk his life for you. It's akin to feeding a stray dog; the dog will wag its tail for you for a lifetime.

Dogs only recognize their owner, oblivious to right or wrong, indifferent to black or white, good or bad. The one who feeds them is the master, the one who gives treats is a good person, and the one who provides a bed is family.

After receiving his reward, the young man had no intention of staying in One's room. He understood that the trust he gained wasn't enough for the master and him to share a bed.

Before leaving, One asked, "Is this reward sufficient, or do you need money?"

The young man shook his head, "Master, as long as I do well, will there be rewards?"

"Clear rewards and punishments," One replied, "Not doing well might lead to death."

"How many times does a person usually get a chance before they die?"

"It depends. A small mistake might earn a beating, but if you make a big mistake, you might not be so lucky." One raised his chin, "Light a cigarette for me."

The young man lit the cigarette for him.

"What do others ask for as rewards?" The young man looked at his profile, and the smoke blurred between them.

"Cars, women, money, houses," One took a drag of his cigarette, "You can think about it."

"I only want my master."

One froze and smiled, "That's cheap.Everyone else is always trying to dig a few zeros out of my account and all you want is for me to cum for you."

"As long as Master doesn't dislike it, I consider this as a reward."

"What about punishment? You're not afraid of pain. What if you make a mistake?" One looked at him, his slender eyes somewhat icy, but a hint of a smile lingered on his lips.

"Once there's a mistake, I'll accept whatever punishment Master decides."