Chapter 378 — The Great Yang

"Armor-piercing rounds?" Liu Yu clicked his tongue in astonishment. "Yang Ce, do we really need that kind of firepower? Ordinary guns should do the job, but armor-piercing rounds—I'm afraid that's a tall order..."

"Oh? Even you can't get your hands on them, Fatty?" Yang Yuchuan asked.

"Ordinary firearms are easy enough to buy in Las Vegas, but armor-piercing rounds—weapons that lethal and that inhumane—are nearly impossible to find on the civilian market, and the black market may not carry them either..." Liu Yu explained. "Even if gun control here is lax, they still won't let heavy weapons run rampant. After all, that's a matter of local public order!"

"All right, then I'll find a way." Yang Yuting nodded, not particularly surprised. What Liu Yu said made sense—though America's gun laws were loose, you still didn't see anyone walking down the street blasting people with rocket launchers or armor-piercing rounds.

"Yang Ce, you're planning to use armor-piercing rounds against that guy?" Liu Yu had more or less guessed Yang Juehuan's intent.

"Yes. I'm afraid that's the only way," Yang Yanzhou said.

"I hope it works! But after stirring up a commotion this big, we'll probably have the FBI on our tails. Going home through the normal channels is likely out of the question..." Liu Yu said with some worry.

"Heh..." Yang Hengye smiled. "Don't worry. Leave it to me."

Ever since Yang Ce set foot on the path of the assassin, he had never feared anyone. He had escaped even the North African badlands unscathed—this place was nothing by comparison.

Liu Yu nodded without a trace of doubt. Yang Ce was called the ace of the Special Services Unit, and he surely had his extraordinary qualities—just as Liu Yu himself was the ace of the Field Unit. He would not make idle boasts, and neither would Yang Shuoxuan.

"Hello, Batten? This is Yang Ce." Yang Ce dialed Batten's number once more.

"Mr. Yang, what can I do for you?" Batten answered the phone with the utmost deference.

"It's not so much an order. I need you to find me the number of Old Lange, the biker gang leader," Yang Yanzhou said. Batten belonged to the Douglas family, a mafia clan—in the town of Airo, there was no weapon he couldn't procure. But this was Las Vegas, where the Douglas family operated only hotels and had never built up any gang business, so getting those weapons through Batten was utterly impossible. Yang Ce simply didn't bother working that angle.

Better to go straight to the Lange family's biker gang—they were a local Shatterstar faction... now one of the Pivot factions. Getting hold of a gun that fired armor-piercing rounds should be a trivial matter for them.

"One moment... Mr. Yang, Old Lange's number is 00xxxxxxx," Batten recited a string of digits, then said to Yang Ce, "Mr. Yang, is there anything else you need?"

"That's all. For now." Yang Ce hung up on Batten and dialed the number Batten had given him.

Old Lange was in the hospital room, planning the gang's future with his son, Young Lange. Though Young Lange had been crippled, he was not sorrowful at this moment. That the biker gang could rise to an unprecedented height—that was what filled them with excitement and anticipation.

The phone rang, interrupting their conversation. Old Lange frowned, picked up the phone, and glanced at it. He had not intended to answer, but seeing an unfamiliar number, he felt an inexplicable tightness in his chest.

These past two days had been troubled times. Old Lange did not dare be careless, so he answered, saying with some hesitation, "Hello, this is Old Lange. Who are you looking for?"

"This is Yang Ce." Yang Shuoxuan wasted no words. "Old Lange, isn't it? Where are you?"

"Ah!" Old Lange was startled the moment he heard Yang Juehuan's voice, thinking to himself what a lucky man he was. Thank heavens he had taken this call—otherwise, who knew whether he might have angered this great demon again and brought his biker gang to ruin in an instant?

"Mr. Yang, hello. I'm at the hospital. Is there anything I can do for you?" Old Lange rose from his bed as he spoke, assuming an exceedingly respectful posture. In his eyes, Yang Ce was omnipresent and omnipotent—perhaps Yang Ce was somewhere nearby even now, able to perceive his attitude this very moment!

So Old Lange did not dare show the slightest negligence. His posture now was like that of a tiny ant speaking to its master.

"Prepare me a heavy sniper rifle and some armor-piercing rounds. I need them urgently," Yang Yanzhou said. "Any problem with that?"

"No problem, Mr. Yang. When do you need them? I..." Old Lange agreed at once. This was no difficulty at all—a heavy sniper rifle was hard for an ordinary person to obtain, but for a gang leader like Old Lange, it was a trivial matter. The gang's warehouse held more than ten of them.

"I'm at the entrance of the Douglas Grand Hotel, in a black Passat, plate number xxx-xxx. Have someone deliver them straight to the car," Yang Yanzhou said.

"Understood. I'll see to it at once." Old Lange did not know what Yang Ce wanted a heavy sniper rifle for. In his view, if Yang Ce wanted to kill someone, a mere thought would suffice—there was no need for firearms at all.

But that was the will of the Great Yang. How could the likes of them presume to fathom the Great Yang's thoughts and intentions? Perhaps the Great Yang meant to shoot down an airplane with that heavy sniper rifle, for all he knew. In any case, whatever the Great Yang said, doing exactly as told could never be wrong!

With that thought, Old Lange immediately set about handling the matter. He could have delegated it to someone else, but how could that be the same? Only by seeing to it personally could he let the Great Yang know how greatly he valued this task!

"Father, was that Mr. Yang on the phone?" Young Lange asked only after Old Lange had hung up.

"It was the Great Yang! Remember, from now on, when we speak of him in private, we must call him the Great Yang! The Great Yang is omnipotent. We must always hold him in reverence! There must not be the slightest blasphemy!" Old Lange corrected him.

"Yes, Father. I was wrong!" Young Lange nodded hurriedly. "You're right. He is omnipotent, so we must call him the Great Yang!"

"Mm, that's better!" Old Lange nodded in satisfaction. "The Great Yang wants me to get him a heavy sniper rifle and some armor-piercing rounds. I'm going to see to it now. You rest well here at the hospital! Our biker gang men are all around this ward—if you need anything, just tell them to do it!"

"Don't worry, Father. I'm not a child. You'd better go handle the Great Yang's business—that's what matters!" Young Lange waved his hand somewhat impatiently, gesturing for his father to hurry off without delay.

Pleased that his son was so sensible, Old Lange naturally did not dare dawdle. He left the ward quickly and at the same time phoned the man in charge of the biker gang's warehouse, telling him to prepare the heavy sniper rifle and armor-piercing rounds. Yang Ce wanted one rifle, but naturally he would not prepare exactly one—he would prepare two, with one as a spare, just in case.