Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 819: A Friday Without the Master (6)

"...In the name of the omniscient and omnipotent one, the great Bucky... I, the apostle of the great omniscient and omnipotent Bucky, can save him!"

Solemn, sacred, and seemingly infused with a hint of mystery. The night, streetlights, chaos, the collective gaze of the crowd, and the held breath. A woman watched her husband in pain. At this moment, the man wearing the carnival mask seemed to become a ferryman of souls, leaving an indelible impression on everyone... perhaps. However. "Isn't this the troublemaker from earlier? Don't cause a ruckus!!" "Get lost!!" A group of people surged forward, directly pushing this carnival-masked man away, yet they continued to chatter-mostly about how the man shot in this situation would likely return to the Lord's embrace unless a miracle occurred. "I'm telling you, this will incur the wrath of the omniscient and omnipotent Bucky... Ow, don't hit, don't hit!! No slapping... Who touched me!!! Ow..." Bucky scrambled out of the crowd in disarray, one hand shielding his face adorned with the carnival mask. He hurriedly approached the grieving lady holding her husband and quickly said, "Listen, ma'am! Your husband won't last much longer; you should be clear about that. Why not let me try? What if I can save him? If you don't allow it, you'll become the murderer of your own husband!" "Kill this charlatan!" "Wait..." The lady hesitated for a moment, then quickly wiped her tears away and grasped Bucky's arm tightly. "You... you really can save him?" Bucky wanted to nod but suddenly recalled the maid's explanation about the powers of his props. He glanced at the lady's dazzling jewels and suddenly had a flash of inspiration. He lowered his voice and said, "I think I can at least give you some time to make a will for your husband." The lady's gaze froze. At that moment, some people began to pull Bucky up, and several others held him down, seemingly intending to hand him over to the police-those police officers were currently engaged in a shootout with an armed man on the congested street and were temporarily unable to attend to the situation here. "Please... wait a moment, I want him to try," the lady suddenly said. "Ma'am, this is a desperate gamble!" someone shook their head, "Who knows what he might do? He could cause your husband to die faster." Though the man who had been shot was clearly not going to last long. "This is my husband; I have the right to decide..." The lady took a deep breath and looked at Bucky: "But if you deceive me, I will make you regret it for the rest of your life!" Bucky struggled a bit, and those holding him let go. He straightened his ill-fitting knockoff Zegna suit and placed his hands on his chest seriously, saying, "Ma'am, I believe your husband will be delighted with your decision." The lady got up from the ground, grasped Bucky's shoulders, and pulled him close, lowering her voice, "Can you really give him time to make a will?" "......" ...... Bucky decided to act quickly. Without a word, he had the man who had been shot moved to the side. A few reluctant men worked together to lift the wounded man, their hearts trembling at the sight of the blood flowing from his chest. At this moment, Bucky couldn't be bothered with a lot of "rituals" or reciting lengthy "incantations" to enhance his professionalism. He pulled out the small vial given to him by the maid, opened it, and discreetly tucked it into his collar, then placed both hands directly on the man's chest. In the night, it was easy to see that Bucky's hands were emitting a faint white light. It gradually spread across the chest of the wounded man. The faint glow appeared and disappeared intermittently, then quickly reappeared after fading. Some sharp-eyed observers noticed that Bucky's neck and hair tips were already soaked. The lady was staring intently at her husband, her lips covered in disbelief. Because-the face of the man who had been shot was gradually improving. His eyelids began to flutter and then slowly opened... He spoke, somewhat weakly, but he did speak, "Is this... heaven...?" Finally, Bucky released his hands and slowly stood up. Due to the carnival mask, no one could see how his lips were trembling at that moment. This blessing technique could only slightly stimulate a person's potential. In simple terms, it accelerated the body's metabolism, giving a sense of health and vitality. Bucky had no idea how many times he had used this technique; anyway, he had already finished the whole vial of restorative potion as instructed by the maid. Right now, he felt like his head was splitting, and his eyelids were heavy. He wanted nothing more than to just sleep-preferably on a pair of ample breasts. The wounded man was now slowly getting up, and under the astonished gazes of the crowd, he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal where he had been shot. Aside from the blood still sticking to his skin, there were actually no wounds at all. "I... I'm not dreaming, am I? A miracle..." "This... could be an illusion! These people... maybe they are all in it together!" A skeptical voice rose from the crowd. At this moment, Bucky pressed his hands against his chest and said calmly, "I am the omniscient and omnipotent one, the great Bucky walking the earth as his apostle..." Suddenly, his legs lifted off the ground, floating away before vanishing into the night... The skeptical voices were instantly drowned out by screams, and everyone stared up at the night sky in a daze, not noticing the gleam of fanaticism in the eyes of the man who had been shot. He muttered to himself, "The great omniscient one, the great omniscient one, the great omniscient one, the great..." ...... ...... Wow-!!! In the high sky, a terrified scream rang out, followed by a figure that fell down, landing on the rooftop of a building directly across from the theater. Doing such a free fall, a normal person would probably be finished upon impact. But clearly, this person was not ordinary-his body stopped just inches from the rooftop floor at the last moment. After pausing less than ten centimeters from the ground, he finally landed safely. Bucky hurriedly got up, took off his carnival mask, and couldn't hide the excitement in his eyes. "Miss Yōu Yè! Did you see that? I did it! I brought that person back to life! Really, I brought him back to life!" "Good job," the maid replied indifferently. Bucky chuckled and asked, puzzled, "But why did you bring me away so quickly? I feel like I could continue performing; I would definitely make those who doubted me regret it!" "I have my plans," Yōu Yè shook her head. "Also, that man, while he's alive now, is still in danger. You only accelerated the healing of his wounds; the bullet is still lodged in his body." Bucky thought for a moment, "But he was supposed to die, and I gave him time..." Yōu Yè took out an emerald green olive crown, "So you're lucky to have obtained a source of faith. A person, in the desperation of near death, gains salvation; their intent, compressed in a moment, sublimates into fervent worship of you... what a fortunate guy." How should he put it? Though it was somewhat accidental, the final result was far better than he had imagined. The maid took a few more glances at Bucky, then walked into the night. "Find a place to rest. That's it for today." "Eh? What should we do next?" "Nothing... just wait." The maid left silently. Bucky took a deep breath and approached the railing of the rooftop, gradually calming himself as he looked down at the chaotic street below... perhaps he should wait until the scene was cleared before leaving. At that moment, he suddenly remembered something and hurried over to the only iron door leading downstairs. "Locked? How do I get down now...?" ...... ...... On the moving stretcher, Caroline blinked, then slowly opened her eyes. She took a deep breath, suddenly sitting up and gasping for air, her hands frantically feeling around her neck. Her neck was red, with a very noticeable bruise. Caroline looked around; there were several other injured people nearby, some appearing to have sprained limbs, while others were lying down, playing on their phones. Surrounding them were many police cars; the once congested street had cleared up considerably, and a few police vehicles were parked nearby, their red and blue lights flashing back and forth. Suddenly, a police officer walked up to Caroline, squatted down, and asked, "Miss, you're awake? Are you okay? Is your consciousness clear?" Caroline shook her head, then nodded, opening her mouth to say something, but when she thought of the murder case involving Livia that she was entangled in, she swallowed her words again. "Miss, who was the assailant? What was your relationship with him? Why did he want to kill you?" the officer continued to interrogate Caroline. "That person?" Caroline's expression tightened. The officer shook his head, saying, "He escaped during the shootout." "I... my head hurts so much. Can... can you get a doctor for me?" Caroline said, clutching her head with a pained expression. The officer could only reply, "Miss, please wait a moment, I'll be right back." Seeing the officer walk away, Caroline quickly got up. The officer frequently turned back to look at her, and when he saw her actions, he quickly called out to stop her. But Caroline picked up a stretcher from the ground and threw it at him, using that moment to dash into a nearby alley. By the time the officer caught up, she had already vanished from sight. "Calling, calling, a suspicious woman in a light blue coat, about 1.75 meters tall, around twenty years old, has been spotted fleeing from Fourth Avenue..." --- Later that evening, at eleven o'clock. In a small bar converted from a basement, a large crowd had gathered-more people were still arriving. Two men had just arrived. They parked their car at a distance but didn't get out right away. "Boss Boston, Johnny has successfully escaped, but he got shot in the shoulder. Should we...?" one man asked, looking at Boston, who was in the driver's seat. These two were none other than the Boston boss who had kidnapped Caroline and Arnold. "He couldn't even handle a woman herself and, still got shot!" Boston said, his tone harsh. "This Johnny is really going downhill! But since he got away, let's not worry about him for now; we have more important matters! Let's get out... it should be starting soon. When we go in, you'd better be alert and not cause any trouble; the people inside are all tough characters!" The subordinate nodded, then asked in confusion, "Boss, who exactly are we going to meet? Why are we so nervous?" Boston shook his head and replied, "I'm not sure, but he's probably a very powerful guy. I just saw Big Rock Sam's car; even he is here." "Big Rock Sam! His territory covers two streets, and even such a big shot is here?" The subordinate gasped in shock. Figures like Big Rock Sam were already individuals they looked up to. As for Boston, he was just a small-time leader with a few guys, scraping by without even a fixed territory-of course, there were many such gangs in the city. Boston pushed the door open, and immediately, numerous gazes in the bar converged on him. Boston spotted some familiar faces, along with quite a few that he needed to look up to. He quickly entered with his men and walked towards a corner of the bar. Sitting there early was a man with a scar on his forehead, flanked by two strong guys-these were the only associates Boston had. Boston had received the invitation to come here from this guy. "Has it started already, Boss Ranch?" Boston asked as he sat down. "Why are you here?" Ranch frowned. Boston shrugged, just about to speak when Boss Ranch suddenly made a gesture for silence, "Shh, the main person has arrived." Boston quickly looked in the direction Ranch was gazing. A woman wearing sunglasses, with her golden hair tied up and dressed in a black western-style suit, walked out from the inner hall of the bar. Four tall men followed her. The woman scanned the room and then said, "I apologize for the delay; I was at a more important banquet." As soon as the woman finished speaking, a bald man chewing on a cigar raised his hand and said, "Who the hell are you? Why did you gather us?" The woman calmly replied, "The $500,000 included with the invitation; are you all satisfied?" The bald man sneered, "If it weren't for the money you're offering, I wouldn't have come, and I wouldn't have the patience to wait here for you. However, if you don't make your purpose clear, then I'm afraid I won't be taking that $500,000." "That was meant to be a greeting gift for everyone here, so I'm glad you all accepted," the woman said with a faint smile before suddenly clapping her hands. Everyone instantly became tense, and the lackeys behind several bosses quickly pulled out their guns. "Don't be nervous; I just want to show you something," the woman waved her hand. One of the men she brought stepped forward with a black box and placed it on the counter before opening it. "I hope you all can become my partners and sell these things well," the woman in sunglasses said, standing with her hands behind her back while looking at everyone. "What is this?" A slightly chubby middle-aged man stood up, walked to the counter, and picked up a bag of something that looked like coarse salt. He frowned and said, "Is this...zombie bath salt?" "It's a newly developed product," the blonde woman in dark sunglasses said, clapping her hands again. Two of the men she brought quickly went back inside and brought out a disheveled guy who looked heavily addicted to drugs. His expression was dazed, and when the strong men threw him on the ground, he even began to smile foolishly. The blonde woman gave another order, and one man picked up a package from the black box, took out a bit, and fed it to the addict. "You can see the effect for yourselves," the woman said calmly.