Brazil: Criminal Empire - Chapter 163: Infiltrating the Hitman Broker’s Bar (Patreon)

After narrowing his eyes for a moment, Rock quickly adjusted to the dim light inside the bar.

The place covered roughly 300 square meters.

Just beyond the entrance was an open seating area filled with tables, chairs, and sofa booths. At the moment, not a single customer occupied them.

To the right stood a long, inverted L-shaped bar. Behind it was a tall liquor cabinet packed with all kinds of alcohol.

Two bearded middle-aged men stood behind the counter, looking more like enforcers than bartenders.

A shirtless young man stood in front of them, nervously saying something.

When Rock entered, the two bartenders didn’t greet him. They simply continued polishing the glasses in their hands while quietly watching him.

Rock approached the counter, deliberately putting on an uneasy expression.

Alessandro had already told him how he had found this place.

The shirtless young man was speaking quickly.

“I’m looking for work. I’ve killed someone before. Seriously, I can kill.”

The two bartenders looked coldly between the young man and Rock, amusement flickering in their eyes.

“I... I’m looking for work too.”

Rock spoke with feigned nervousness.

“You ever killed anyone?”

One of the bartenders suddenly looked at Rock.

“No... I mean, yes. I’ve killed someone.”

Rock deliberately acted just as awkward as the young man beside him.

The shirtless man turned and stared at Rock in surprise.

“Hey, man, I got here first. I should get first pick of the jobs.”

“I need to eat too. Besides, can you finish all those jobs by yourself?”

Rock played the part of a reckless rookie.

“All right, both of you, shut up. Come with me.”

One of the bartenders jerked his head toward the back.

Rock silently followed him.

At the rear of the bar was a small door guarded by two burly men with MP5s hanging from their bodies.

When they saw the bartender approaching with the two newcomers, they immediately shoved Rock and the young man against the wall and frisked them roughly.

They found a dagger on the shirtless young man.

Naturally, they found nothing on Rock.

Beyond the small door was an entirely different setup.

Apparently, the bartender had already notified the people inside somehow.

As soon as Rock and the young man entered, a burly man carrying a short-barreled shotgun took custody of them.

“Follow me. Don’t talk. Don’t look around.”

The man kept a firm grip on the shotgun as he stared at them.

“Okay.”

Rock and the young man answered almost simultaneously.

The man turned and led them deeper inside.

They followed him down a twisting corridor for more than ten meters.

Soundproof doors began appearing along both sides.

Rock and the shirtless young man were then taken into separate rooms.

The room Rock entered was remarkably quiet.

If his Physical Constitution hadn’t been enhanced, he would barely have been able to hear footsteps in the corridor outside.

The room itself was extremely simple, containing only a desk and several chairs.

But directly opposite the door Rock had entered through was another door.

Judging from the layout, there was probably an internal passage running behind these rooms.

A well-built middle-aged man wearing glasses stepped through that second door.

He wore a neat shirt, dress pants, and a vest.

Rather than a hitman broker, he looked more like a lawyer.

From somewhere outside, Rock heard the shirtless young man complaining about something.

His muttering quickly faded farther down the corridor.

“We’re very accommodating to newcomers. You can choose between two jobs.”

The man with glasses placed a tablet in front of Rock.

Two contracts were displayed on the screen.

The first paid $10,000.

The second paid $3,000.

The $10,000 contract was none other than Rock himself.

There was no clear photograph, name, or other identifying information.

The listing only described the target as the leader of the faction controlling the Great Rock Wall Favela, with a note that he was believed to be highly skilled with firearms.

That was all.

The second contract, by comparison, included the target’s name, appearance, hobbies, and locations he frequently visited.

It even recommended a specific location for an ambush and shooting.

They had practically done everything except pull the trigger themselves.

Given the difference in difficulty, anyone who wasn’t desperately short on money would immediately choose the $3,000 contract.

But a rookie hitman with even a little ambition would probably choose the first one.

Rock kept smiling pleasantly on the outside while cursing inwardly.

So they had basically turned the Great Rock Wall Favela into a proving ground for rookie hitmen.

He had no idea how many newcomers had accepted the contract on him during this time.

Yet Rock had entered and left the Great Rock Wall Favela countless times without sensing any danger.

Were these rookies simply that incompetent, or had Rock become too abnormal?

Fortunately, after what happened with Alessandro that morning, Rock had already instructed Ciro to warn every full member and reserve member of Battle Angels to stay alert.

The five motorcycles he had added to the reserve patrols should help them flush out some of these rookie assassins.

Rock wasn’t particularly worried about the reserve members getting hurt.

Some Battle Angels members had recently started becoming arrogant, convinced the organization was already so powerful that no one would dare provoke them.

If they still refused to take security seriously after receiving a direct warning from their boss, then if they died, they died.

They could serve as an example for everyone else.

It would also put some pressure on the people of the Great Rock Wall Favela and remind them that Battle Angels still wasn’t powerful enough to control everything by itself.

Everyone had to contribute if they wanted the organization to grow stronger.

Besides, more and more young people from the favela wanted to join Battle Angels.

There were plenty of teenagers hoping to become even reserve members.

If this batch proved useless, Rock could simply replace them with another.

Like certain men choosing girlfriends, there was always another one who would behave better.

The reserve patrols had already been equipped with AK-family rifles, and Rivaldo and the other special operations instructors had trained them as well.

If they still couldn’t handle a few rookie hitmen, then replacing them really would be the only sensible option.

The man with glasses watched Rock carefully review both contracts before casually explaining the terms.

“Once you complete a contract according to the information provided, we take a 10% commission.”

“If you want the first contract to come with intelligence as detailed as the second, our commission rises to 60%.”

“If you need us to provide basic weapons, the first contract costs another 10% in commission. For the second, we deduct an additional $1,000.”

Rock looked up at the man and forced an ingratiating smile.

“What do you mean by basic weapons?”

“A handgun, a dagger, and two magazines of ammunition.”

Rock almost laughed.

So anyone who came here without the ability to gather intelligence or obtain their own weapons was basically working for the organization for next to nothing.

Rock had a feeling there was a reason this hitman brokerage offered rookie assassins two contracts with such wildly different levels of difficulty.

It was probably another layer of screening.

Perhaps the mission a newcomer chose was itself part of how they evaluated that person’s abilities.

No wonder Alessandro had chosen to pay for the basic weapons but had preferred spending all that time staking out the Great Rock Wall Favela rather than paying the organization to gather intelligence for him.

Rock continued swiping back and forth between the two contracts, pretending to struggle with the decision.