The Tyrant Billionaire

The best outcome would naturally be getting that $300,000 cash check. That's a lot of money, and Hardy is naturally greedy for such a huge sum.

Dani's disappearance without a trace would be most advantageous for him.

If that's not achievable, then the next best option is also good.

Taking down Dani on the street, whether in a street conflict or Colombian retaliation, and pushing the blame onto the Colombians, regardless, the accusation won't come back to Hardy.

It's just a shame about that money.

The next day, Henry and Matthew boarded a plane bound for Colombia, first stopping in Houston for an hour, refueling, then taking off again. After a grueling flight of over ten hours, they finally arrived in Bogota.

It was well past 10 o'clock at night by then.

The two didn't rest, hailed a taxi, handed the driver $5, and said, "Take us to the liveliest nightclub, the wilder the better."

"No problem." The driver smiled, Kissing the money then pocketing it.

Bogota is the capital of Colombia and is relatively bustling. It was 1946, and Colombia's political landscape was relatively stable and the economy was doing well. During WWII, they declared war on Germany and Japan, gaining some international political capital.

Later, Colombia became chaotic, all thanks to the United States. The United States viewed the entire Americas as its backyard, not allowing any country to develop. Mexico, Colombia, Venezuela, Argentina, Cuba...

These countries were repeatedly taken advantage of by the Americans, who absorbed all the nutrients for themselves.

Forget mentioned Canada? Canada is just America's ranch.

But looking at it from a different perspective, these countries were actually lucky. Unlike the British and the French, the U.S. didn't have a colonial mentality. They didn't opt to colonize these countries or enslave their people, but instead chose to ruin them economically, which from Hardy's perspective, was a much softer approach.

You have to understand that the U.S., post-World War II, had immeasurable power. All of the South American countries combined wouldn't stand a chance. The U.S. had more than 300,000 jet fighters, 89 aircraft carriers, and over 10 million veterans who had experienced the brutality of World War II. Yet, despite all these advantages, the U.S.

still chose to dismantle its warships and let those jet fighters rust. While the U.S. approach to taking the resources of these countries may seem unfair to them, it was definitely magnanimous for that time, especially considering that the French and the British were still holding onto their colonies until 1962.

The taxi stopped in front of a two-story building, neon lights flashing. The driver, in somewhat broken English, said, "This nightclub is owned by you Americans. Inside, you'll find everything you need: beautiful women, leaves, powder, play as wild as you want."

Henry and Matthew walked into the nightclub and found that the decoration here was no worse than that in the United States, the music was exciting and the lights were dazzling, and the smell of leaves and coke powder in the air was stronger than that of nightclubs in Los Angeles. there were more Caucasians and Europeans than native South Americans.

As for the South Americans in the nightclub they were mostly women.

Henry and Matthew were barely inside when Colombian beauties approached them. They exchanged glances, smiled, and put their arms around the women, chatting happily.

After a drink, Henry said to the woman in his arms, "You must know who's selling the coke powder here. Can you get them for me?"

The woman smirked, raising an eyebrow. "No problem."

With a seductive sway, she went to fetch someone, returning shortly with a young South American thug in his twenties.

The young man looked at Henry and Matthew, smiling. "Looking for leaves or powder?"

"Both. Leaves here, powder later at the hotel," Henry said, pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, about five or six hundred dollars.

The young man's eyes gleamed and said with a smiled "No problem, I have them all here, they are the best quality you can find."

Colombia, being the origin of these substances, meant prices were much cheaper than in the U.S. Many people come to Colombia for vacation every year to enjoy these substances and return.

To people like Henry and Matthew, they were seasoned. To them, these customers were high quality, they wouldn't leave until they'd spent all their money.

After the transaction was completed,

Henry and Matthew chatted with the women, smoking rolled cigarettes and drinking for over half an hour, they were starting to feel tipsy.

"It's about time to head back to the hotel," Matthew said.

Henry nodded, standing up. Just then, the two women held onto them. "Not taking us back?"

Henry looked at the two women, smiling. "Feeling tired today. Maybe another day. If we run into you again here, we'll take you back."

The beauty opened her hand and found two 10 dollar bills and two small white bags. The beauty knew that this was their tip tonight.

Giving money and the powder, these two guests were indeed generous.

The women swiftly took the money from Henry's palm, kissing them goodbye on their faces.

As Henry and Matthew left the nightclub, they staggered a bit, the alcohol and leaves had taken effect.

They'd just stepped outside when a taxi pulled up.

The two got in, Henry slurring, "Take us to the hotel."

"Which hotel?" the driver asked.

"Any good one will do, we've got money," Matthew said nonchalantly.

"Okay, gentlemen."

The driver drove off.

Within minutes, Henry and Matthew were dozing off in the backseat, mumbling unconsciously.

The driver glanced at them through the rear view mirror, a barely perceptible smile on his face.

The taxi quickly left the main downtown area, entering a desolate side road lined with deep ditches full of tall vines and grass.

Three figures appeared ahead, one of whom was unmistakably the drug dealer from the nightclub. The taxi stopped, and the driver got out, nodding to the three. "Out like logs, just like dead dogs."

"One of them has a few hundred bucks, the other probably have more," the boss said grimly.

The boss gestured to drag Henry and Matthew out. They groggily opened their eyes.

"What do you want?" Henry asked, perplexed.

"Kid, empty your pockets, or I'll shoot you," the boss said darkly.

Henry glanced at Matthew.

Whoosh!

Both moved simultaneously.

Their eyes, once hazy, were now sharp and clear.

Henry grabbed the boss's gun; before he could react, Henry flipped his wrist, and the gun was in his hand.

Another thug moved to intervene, and Matthew delivered a swift kick to his groin.

The thug collapsed, clutching his crotch in pain.

Seeing this, the drug dealer reached for something, but before his hand emerged, Henry's gun was aimed at him.

"Bang!"

The drug dealer fell, with Henry swiftly turning the gun on the others.

"Bang bang!"

The other two thugs were also taken out.

Next, the gun was pointed at the taxi driver.

"Don't kill me! I'm just a driver, they forced me," he pleaded.

"Bang!"

The taxi driver was shot in the head.

Watching the bodies fall, Henry smirked. "I don't care what you are, bringing us here deserves punishment."

Tonight, he and Matthew went to the bar to lure them out, intentionally flaunting their wealth to draw these people out. They searched the bodies without haste.

From the drug dealer, they found another gun.

Wallets, ID cards, a few bills, cigarettes, lighters, and miscellaneous items, they kept what was useful.

As for the bodies...

They kicked them into the ditch.

The roadside ditch was about three to four meters deep, filled with dense vines and grass. The bodies disappeared instantly, unless someone specifically searched, they'd never find these four bodies.

Henry and Matthew returned to the taxi.

Henry patted the taxi and laughed. "Now we've got weapons and a car."

The two chuckled and got in the car and drove off.