Chapter 34: Home Delivery

Jon Hammond tossed the documents in his hand onto the table, then drank the remaining liquor in the glass sip by sip. The whole room was filled only with the sound of ice cubes rolling in the glass.

When only transparent ice cubes were left in the glass, Jon Hammond, who had been silent all along, finally spoke in a hoarse, low voice, "Holm, so did the person my brother wanted dead, dead or not?"

"Not yet," the man replied simply. His meaning was straightforward: not yet, but it could happen anytime.

Upon hearing Holm's response, Jon Hammond tightened his grip on the glass in his hand. "Then why did my brother die?"

His tone was flat, but suppressed anger burned within him. The image of Harvey Hammond slowly formed in front of him, then suddenly turned into a pile of bloody minced meat.

"Why?!" Jon Hammond roared in fury, slamming the glass in his hand heavily onto the table.

*Bang!* The glass shattered crisply in his hand, and the broken glass cut his hand, causing blood to gush from the wound, quickly covering his entire palm.

Faced with Jon Hammond's furious roar, everyone trembled in fear, including Holm, who stood by like a statue. At this moment, he could only lower his head slightly.

The wound on his hand didn't seem to affect Jon Hammond in the slightest. He didn't even furrow his brow, as if the palm that was bleeding profusely didn't belong to him.

He had never imagined that one day his brother would suddenly die, and in such a gruesome manner. Even now, he couldn't accept this cruel reality.

They had been dependent on each other since childhood. Their mother was just a poor prostitute who was choked to death by a bastard who refused to pay even a small fee when they were very young. As for their father, they had never seen him since birth.

After their mother's death, they were sent to an orphanage, where the children, upon learning that their mother was a prostitute, ridiculed and bullied them relentlessly.

Whenever such situations arose, it was Harvey who would recklessly charge forward first, while Jon, as the older brother, would always fear being expelled from the orphanage and thus endured silently.

After leaving the orphanage, with Jon's relatively sharp wit, they scraped by on the streets, with no education or skills. Their best option was to join a gang.

Jon Hammond's path to success began from this time onwards. He thrived in the gang, standing out among the members who only knew how to use muscles and violence, his intellect making him shine.

After more than a decade of hard work, he finally climbed to this position, controlling nearly seventy percent of the drug market in New York City for the organization, contributing a large amount of funds.

Jon Hammond cared about only one person, his only brother, Harvey Hammond. He knew that Harvey didn't like to use his brain and only enjoyed fighting, so he didn't assign him any important tasks, just letting him be a simple enforcer, and then enjoying life under his protection.

But fate did not favor him. The bad news came so suddenly, his only brother tragically died in his own home, and there were no clues about the killer.

This situation made him extremely angry and frustrated. He wished he could immediately find the killer who murdered his brother and chop them into minced meat to feed the dogs.

Shaking off the glass shards and blood on his hands, Jon Hammond picked up a towel from the nearby tray to wipe his hands while saying to Holm, "Go, bring that guy to me. I want to know what happened between him and Harvey, then I'll kill him."

"Oh, and how are Harvey Hammond's bodyguards doing now?"

Holm replied in a low voice, "One couldn't hold on and died, the remaining five are still alive, but they probably won't last long."

Harvey Hammond's death was so tragic, how could the bodyguards responsible for his safety escape Jon Hammond's punishment?

For the past few days, they had been suffering torture and torment in the basement. Jon Hammond would never let them die easily.

Upon hearing Holm's report, Jon Hammond sat back on the sofa and said, "Take them all to feed the dogs. My dogs have been hungry for days, it's time to feed them."

After saying that, he waved his hand, and Holm turned and walked out of the door.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!* Several gunshots came from behind, as Jon Hammond vented his anger.

Holm wasn't surprised at all. His pace remained steady, and his expression unchanged.

As Jon Hammond's trusted assistant for many years, he knew from his current state that several unlucky people were about to meet their end.

Jon Hammond seemed gentle most of the time, but when he got angry, he was like a madman, even more ruthless than Harvey Hammond.

Soon, Holm arrived at the basement. He waved his hand, and the people inside, already covered in blood and flesh, were dragged out. These people were Harvey Hammond's bodyguards.

By now, they were completely covered in red and black blood, with no good flesh visible on their bodies. Their eyes were filled with despair and numbness, the torture of these days had completely broken their spirits.

Seemingly overwhelmed by the bloody smell and stench, Holm frowned and took out a handkerchief to cover his nose and mouth.

He waved his hand again and said coldly to his subordinates nearby, "Throw them all into the dog cages, including the one who's already dead."

After giving the order, Holm quickly left the basement, as if staying one more second would infect him with the disgusting smell.

°°°

In Brooklyn, at Maverick's home, Maverick, who had been sleeping for two days, was happily eating a hamburger in his left hand, pizza in his right hand, occasionally taking sips of cola on the table.

In front of Venom, there was also a row of chocolates. Venom picked them up one by one, tasting their differences and qualities.

He had been lying in bed sleeping and recovering his strength for the past two days, barely eating anything, and was starving.

So he just ordered takeout. While waiting for the delivery, he was rummaging through the house for food, like a hamster.

*Burp!* After drinking the last sip of cola, Maverick patted his bulging stomach and let out a satisfied burp.

"Finally full. I can feel my body coming back to life," Maverick lay back on the sofa, squinting his eyes, resting.

Venom went to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee for each of them. They sat on the sofa, drinking and relieving their fullness.

As they pondered what to do next, several cars suddenly stopped outside.

°°°

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