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Fortunately, he has exceptional skills and doesn't need to resort to desperately dancing in strip clubs to win over customers like some single mothers who have to do so just to get the hundreds of dollars in food stamps that come with winning a championship.
He can make money "legally" with the two guns at his waist.
For example, arresting fugitives on the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department's wanted list in exchange for a reward.
……
"Nikaido, have you found him yet?"
Jet asked the landlord, who was sitting on the sofa, in English.
Suzuko Nikaido, with a slender lady's cigar dangling from her lips, was rapidly typing on her laptop keyboard.
"Based on the clues I've tracked, the target is most likely hiding in the Shibuya 6-chome area."
Without looking up, she answered, turning the computer screen toward Jett, "This is a topographical map of that area. Make a note of the location of the apartment he is most likely hiding in, as well as the distribution of several police stations and police stations in the vicinity."
She paused, exhaled a smoke ring, and solemnly reminded, "Remember, guns are only for deterrence. You absolutely, absolutely must not fire at people in the city."
"You don't have a gun license in Japan, so if there's a gunshot wound, it will be difficult for me to successfully collect the reward from the police."
"No problem, I know what I'm doing."
Jett grinned, revealing a confident expression.
He considers himself a professional in the bounty hunting business.
Besides his superb marksmanship, his hand-to-hand combat skills were also quite impressive.
Jet's eyes quickly swept across the computer screen, etching the complex terrain map into his mind.
Next, the screen switched to a wanted poster.
Makoto Tomata, 37 years old, once formed a violent group called "Tomota-gumi", which mainly engaged in street extortion and kidnapping.
On October 13, 2022, he led his men to beat the leader of a rival gang to death in broad daylight, and then fled to the Philippines.
This year, he secretly returned to Japan and resumed his old business of kidnapping and extortion in the Shibuya area under a pseudonym.
The bounty for him is eight million yen.
If he could secure the bounty, even if he had to give seven million to Suzuko Nikaido, the remaining one million would be enough for him to live a carefree life in Tokyo for a while, supporting his continued search for the "fox's" trail.
……
Shibuya at night is just as bustling as Times Square in New York.
Neon lights flashed, crowds thronged, and the place was filled with noise and temptation.
Jet loves the bright lights and bustling metropolis, but unfortunately he's broke right now and doesn't even have the confidence to go to a bar for a few drinks or find a prostitute to confide in.
He could only sit listlessly in the back seat of Nikaido Suzuko's car, staring blankly at the fleeting lights outside the window.
Upon arriving at the target area, Suzuko Nikaido parked the car on a relatively quiet street and whispered, "This is it. Go in, I'll wait for you here."
"it is good."
Jet gave a brief reply, unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out of the car.
He walked casually toward the apartment with his hands in his coat pockets.
The streets in the residential area were quite different from the nearby commercial center, appearing much quieter.
Under the cold white streetlights, even the evening breeze seemed to carry a hint of coolness.
He walked into an apartment building that looked rather old.
The facilities here are old and outdated. There are no access control systems or security personnel, and there isn't even an elevator. There's only a narrow staircase leading upstairs.
Jet silently went up to the second floor and searched for the room number in his memory. Soon he saw the sign "212" at the end of the corridor.
Without the slightest hesitation, he quickly drew his pistol from its holster.
The silenced gun muzzle emitted a soft "whoosh" sound, accurately breaking the door lock.
Immediately afterwards, he kicked open the door, rushed into the room with his gun, and shouted in English, "Pattin! Don't move!"
His voice echoed in the empty living room.
Batian Zhen really didn't move.
He will never be able to move again.
A head lay alone beside the sofa, its eyes wide open, still showing shock.
His two accomplices also lay nearby, dark red blood spreading beneath them.
Three crimson beams of light rose from above the heads of the three corpses and quickly disappeared into the brow of another standing figure in the living room.
Qingze turned his head and his gaze fell on Jett at the door.
His blond hair was slightly disheveled and draped over his shoulders. He had a rugged face with unkempt stubble and a tall, robust build.
Most importantly, he had no tags on his head.
"A fox...a fox?!"
Jet stared at the fox mask, his face instantly filled with immense astonishment.
He never imagined that he would stumble upon the "big fish" he had been dreaming of when he came here just to catch a small fish!
Qingze spoke as if he had just encountered a stranger asking for directions, saying in a detached tone, "If I were you, the wisest choice right now would be to put away your gun and turn around and leave."
If you pull the trigger, you will die.
The moment he finished speaking, Qingze's magical power surged quietly.
Strands of condensed, almost tangible black energy, carrying a chilling killing intent, surged forward like a tidal wave towards Jet.
After being promoted to [Black Iron Knight], he discovered that his control over magic had become more refined. He could not only strengthen his body, but also integrate it into his own will, turning it into a direct deterrent to the enemy's spirit.
Of course, only Qingze could "see" this black magical energy flow.
As Jet perceived it, an extremely cold and bone-chilling invisible wind blew towards him, making him feel as if he were naked, running for his life in the cold wind of a New York winter morning.
It's cold! Bone-chillingly cold!
His hands began to tremble uncontrollably, and fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead within seconds. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, almost as if it would jump out of his chest.
Seeing his expression, Qingze ignored him and turned to enter the adjacent bedroom to rescue the kidnapped girl.
"Stop...stop!"
Jet, suppressing the chilling cold, called out to Qingze.
But instead of shooting in the back, he slowly put the gun back in its holster, then stiffly pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shakily took one out, and put it in his mouth.
"pat...pat..."
He had to flick the lighter twice before he finally lit the cigarette.
He took a deep breath, and thick smoke slowly exhaled from his nostrils. However, the smoke did not bring any warmth; instead, he felt as if he had inhaled icy cold air.
What a terrifying creature...
Jet screamed in his heart.
Since his debut, he has dominated the industry for many years and has never encountered an opponent who could almost make him lose his will to resist with just a glance.
“My name is Jett Gardner,” he suddenly said, his voice hoarse from the cold and tension, as if he were giving his last words or pouring out his heart. “I was born in Cayuga County, New York, in a small town called Auburn.”
You probably haven't heard of that place...
Many people associate New York with skyscrapers and Wall Street, but my hometown has absolutely nothing to do with that.
He took a drag of his cigarette and continued, "My dad ran away before I was born, and my mom raised me all by herself."
She was engaged in a less-than-reputable job, and later became addicted to drugs under the coercion of some gang members.
She died when I was fifteen, despite her many illnesses.
He seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps to Qingze: "So I understood from a very young age that in this damn world, nothing is more terrible than poverty."
I became a bounty hunter for money.
"I've arrested so many criminals that I've lost count myself..."
His tone gradually became firm, and his eyes regained their sharp light: "Among those people, your bounty is the highest."
It's high enough for me to retire completely and live out the rest of my life comfortably.
I won't let this opportunity slip by, come on!
He took a final drag of his cigarette, then removed the butt from his mouth and flicked it lightly with his thumb and forefinger.
The half-smoked cigarette traced a faint orange-red arc in the air, tumbling before finally falling headfirst onto the cold floor.
The duel has begun!
Jet reached for his waist with lightning speed, faster than he had ever done in his life.
Drawing the gun, raising it, aiming—the series of movements was as fluid as if he had practiced it thousands of times.
He was confident that he had never met his match in rapid-fire shooting.
At this distance, I will definitely be faster!
He roared inwardly, his azure eyes fixed on the figure in front of him.
Almost at the same time, Qingze made a move.
It was as fast as a gust of wind tearing through space.
Just as Jeter raised his gun to horizontal, before it was fully aimed at the target, the scarlet blade had already silently pressed against his carotid artery like a ghost.
The blood seemed to freeze in that instant.
His two guns froze in mid-air, their muzzles pointing futilely at the ground ahead.
Is this... the speed of a super soldier?!
Jet's eyes were filled with extreme astonishment, which then transformed into a calm that seemed to have seen through life and death.
He slowly lowered his arms and whispered, "I've lost. Kill me."
“No,” Qingze flicked his wrist, the sharp blade leaving Jet’s neck and sheathing itself. “I won’t kill you.”
Looking at Jet's puzzled expression, he calmly explained, "The moment you decided to shoot me and risk your life, your heartbeat returned to normal, and your hand holding the gun was as steady as a rock, without the slightest tremor."