Trafford's Trading Club

With a black leather jacket and spiffy blond pixie cut, Jessica sat on a motorcycle and stopped at a highway of the desert.

Right in the middle of the chaotic area of the Middle East.

When a truck approached and got closer, even the horn rang relentlessly but she didn’t seem to have the intention to leave.

Eventually, the truck had to make a sudden stop and two men who wrapped their cheeks with scarfs came out of the truck.

By the way, they still held the nozzles of the guns --- AK47, which was very popular in Middle East.

"Who are you!"

"Go away!"

Both men pointed their guns at Jessica and spoke fiercely in the Middle East dialect.

But suddenly Jessica’s face cracked a charming smile --- but in the view of the two men, it was a sneer.

They felt uncomfortable, glancing at each other

and making a quick decision--- they decided to strafe the woman who was in the way.

However, as they were about to pull the trigger, the woman in black leather jacket pulled out a silver handgun from the motorcycle at a lightning speed.

Aiming, shooting followed by two fast and precise shots hit the two’s eyebrows.

Bang, bang---!

The loud gunshot resounded through this broad highway.

"Damn it!"

At the same time, four men with the same equipment jumped out from the back of the truck--- one of them wore cartridge belts on his body. They did not have any hesitation in strafing at this woman!

The locomotive engines rang like beasts, Jessica grabbed the handlebars with both of her hands and heavily pressed the front shock absorbers, pulling up the front part of the motorcycle forcibly--- The huge rear wheel drive almost made the motorcycle erect upright.

The motorcycle headed to the men directly like a beast--- Jessica now pulled a black handgun out of her left leg after extracting the silver pistol drawn from the front of the motorcycle.

Double guns were still being shot accurately from both sides of the motorcycle!

When several men fell down, the motorbike was stopped before rushing to the headlights of the truck.

Jessica rolled her long legs over and got off from the motorbike. She climbed up to the top of the truck easily.

Here, Jessica saw a dozen of children ageing from seven or eight to twelve years old. They hugged each other tightly in pairs, looking at the woman standing on the truck in horror.

"It’s all right, I’ll send you home." Jessica looked at the orphans as if seeing herself in the past. She voiced softly, putting away her black and silver shots.

Just then.

"Allah - Hu Akbar!"

A man suddenly appeared at the back of the truck--- he probably hid there since the beginning. At this moment, he held a grenade in his hand!

He was going to unplug the safety of the grenade!

In this critical moment, a lightning bolt flashed across Jessica’s eyes, she waved her arm suddenly! A blue-purple arc ejected from her arm and hit the man’s body directly.

Like a conductor, the man was tortured by a strong electric current--- his entire body became numb and he fell unconscious.

He would no longer be aware of anything ever again for he was already dead.

"Sister ... are you an angel?" A young girl looked at it in surprise and asked subconsciously.

"Angel?" Jessica shook her head, "I’m just an avenger. Tell me where your home is."

She needed to send these children back as soon as possible---then get in touch with a stronghold through the communication device on this truck.

Next, she would eradicated this stronghold--- one of the strongholds of the Michael Club was situated in the Middle East.

After leaving that eastern country, she had rooted out two similar strongholds during this period of time.

But the number could only become more!

Jessica looked at the billowing yellow sand, meditating silently, "I’m ... Coming!"

Jessica drove the truck, twisting the steering wheel hard to turn the truck around swiftly. The tire rubbed the ground, sweeping over the bodies with great force.

The bodies were suddenly swept away from the highway.

...

...

A huge body, now flew over the boxing ring rope, falling to the outside floor fiercely--- he didn’t hurt the audience because they got away in time.

‘This guy cannot stand up anymore!’

The audience who were holding the ticket with this boxer could only think that in despair.

"Anton! Anton! Our Anton! He beat the mighty opponent one more time! Since he joined the game two days ago, this is the seventh victory for Anton! Is it a legend? Oh my God, Anton, you are the strongest warrior I’ve ever seen! Scream with me!! "

That referee lifted Anton’s arm, shouting madly!

"Anton!", "Anton!", "Anton!"

The slogan continued. However, he didn’t know why, Anton... Antonio hated these people’s crazy shout now.

He walked off the stage without a word, ignoring the greetings from Nikita. Instead, he headed for the lounge.

Nicky caught up with him to the lounge, closing the door and coming to Anton after a while, smiling, "What happened? Aren’t you happy defeating that guy?

Anton shook his head; he looked at Nikita, suddenly asking, "Nikita, how much money we earn today?"

"We have a good harvest!" Nikita couldn’t help hiding his delight talking about this.

"Nikita, now, is my money enough to build a treehouse base?"

Nikita was stupefied--- he totally forgot about this thing that Anton ever talked!

In fact within these three days, he didn’t only reap rich bonuses by Anton’s victory on the stage, but also made a bet secretly, which made a fortune for him--- this was the most he earned in his life!

"Oh dear Anton, you should know that it is not an easy task to build a tree base!" Nikita pretended to be serious, "You know, a big tree is not just a tree! It’s still on the land! Do you know land is not private, it belongs to the country! So, you have to buy the land under the tree together with the land, so that you can possess the tree legally! But you need a lot of money to purchase the tree!"

Anton shook his head, "But I don’t want to continue to box."

Nikita quickly said, "How can you not box? You are invincible! You are the most powerful here! As long as you stand in the ring, the banknotes will continue to fly toward your pocket. And you just need to throw away your opponent! What an easy matter it is!"

However, Anton stood up.

His body was too tall, so that Nikita had to look up. A strange pressure suddenly emerged from Nikita’s heart, "Anton, what are you going to do..."

Anton shook his head, "Nikita, it’s my last fight today, and I won’t fight anymore, I’m leaving! Give me the money I earned!"

"What? You don’t fight? NO!" Nikita shouted unconsciously.

Perhaps this face was sort of frightened to Anton, so he revealed a scared expression subconsciously.

What the hell!

This Siberian-bear-like guy was actually afraid of his shout! Nikita looked at the scene incredibly. He frowned but didn’t want to push Anton too far--- who knew what would happen if the guy was discomfited utterly? This guy had very little common sense!

"Well, Anton! Just have another three games! Only three games! Then you can stop fighting, OK?" Nikita asked patiently.

Anton thought for a moment, suddenly he extended his hand, stretching out his little finger.

"... What are you doing?"

"Pinkie promise! Three games, don’t pull back!" Anton said.

Who knew what Nikita was thinking about this... anyway, he felt incredible, dumbfounding, and swore ‘#$&*$^%(^%*&’ to this strong man in mind...

Pinkie promise!

"Nikita! This is a man’s promise!"

"Well... OK..."

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