Chapter 189 — Nando Realizes He Looks Like a Fool
The moment the container doors swung open, a full truckload of U.S. Army-marked crates came into view.
Both Steve and Ado instinctively rubbed their eyes, half-convinced they were seeing things.
"Holy shit…" Steve muttered under his breath.
"Wait. We don't know if this is really what we're looking for. Open one," Ado said, already climbing into the container.
He scanned the surroundings and quickly spotted a crowbar lying off to the side—something William had deliberately left behind.
Just in case.
Ado picked it up, walked to the nearest crate, wedged it into the seam, and pried it open with force.
Inside, layers of protective foam neatly cushioned rows of rifles.
M4s.
"Fuck… how did he even get this stuff into Chicago?" Steve blurted out from outside.
Inside the container, Ado had already picked one up, inspecting it carefully.
In truth, he was even more shaken than Steve.
Having spent years working under Nando, Ado had handled plenty of firearms.
And with a single glance, he could tell—
These weren't knockoffs.
These were genuine U.S. military-grade weapons, straight from official production lines.
Not something just anyone could get their hands on.
For the first time, cold sweat formed on Ado's back.
That young man… that "student-looking" guy—
Whether it was him personally, or the forces behind him—
They might be far more dangerous than Nando's entire drug operation.
Even internationally known arms dealers rarely got access to equipment like this.
On the black market, the only sources for such weapons were usually captured stockpiles from the Middle East or small leaks from NATO forces.
And even those were limited.
No one was stupid enough to openly provoke the American military-industrial complex.
Those people—
They were ruthless.
Profit-driven to the point of fueling wars without hesitation.
"Steve… how did you even meet this guy?" Ado asked, his tone unusually serious.
This was no longer something to take lightly.
Before, both he and Nando had underestimated William.
Now, he finally understood what kind of person they were dealing with.
They had assumed that anyone associating with Steve would be small-time at best.
Maybe a low-level arms dealer pushing imitation goods.
But this…
This was on another level entirely.
"How did I meet him?" Steve paused, thinking back to that first encounter—the one that hadn't exactly gone smoothly.
To this day, he still didn't know how William had even noticed him.
With someone of William's apparent standing, how did he end up crossing paths with a nobody like him?
"I guess… coincidence," Steve said after a moment. "One night at a club. We both went after the same girl. That kind of cliché story."
Ado looked him up and down.
"You being alive right now is a miracle."
He shook his head.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve frowned, confused.
Ado didn't bother explaining.
Instead, he pulled out his phone and dialed Nando.
Meanwhile, far away in Brazil—
Inside a luxurious hotel suite—
Nando, dressed in a tailored suit, sat calmly with a Cuban cigar in hand, handling business as usual.
Across from him sat another Latino man, dressed just as sharply.
Between them on the table were two briefcases.
One filled with cash.
The other… with powder.
Just then, Nando's phone began to vibrate.
He picked it up and glanced at the screen—it was a call from one of his men.
In an instant, his expression tightened.
Ever since realizing how unreliable Steve was, he'd been constantly worried about one thing—
His daughter.
He excused himself to the client, stepped out onto the balcony, and answered the call.
"Ado… did something happen to Estefania?"
His voice carried a trace of urgency.
"No, boss. The young lady's fine. It's about something else…"
Ado then quickly explained the situation with the weapons.
After hearing it, Nando fell into a long silence.
His mind raced.
Under what circumstances could someone pull so many U.S.-made military weapons straight out of production lines… transport them across highways filled with checkpoints… avoid random inspections… and deliver them safely into Chicago?
To him, it might as well have been magic.
"Fuck… is that guy a wizard or something?" Nando muttered, cold sweat forming on his forehead.
The higher someone stood in the criminal world, the more terrifying William's actions appeared.
This wasn't something you could solve by bribing a few officials.
Even someone like a well-connected "Smith commissioner" wouldn't dare pull something this blatant against federal law.
If this kind of operation were exposed, no amount of connections would save them.
Selling weapons was one thing.
But having this volume of military-grade arms illegally appear on U.S. soil—
That was a completely different level of crime.
The more Nando thought about it, the more uneasy he felt.
His mind drifted back to that conversation on the yacht with William.
For the first time, he felt like a fool.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke into the phone, his voice cold and controlled:
"Gather people. Lock down that parking lot. I'm heading to Chicago right now."
A brief pause.
"Until I get there—if anyone goes near that truck… you know what to do."
On the other end, Ado understood immediately and nodded, his expression turning serious.
If this shipment was discovered by the police or any federal agency—
He and Nando were both dead.
No exceptions.
After hanging up, Ado exhaled slowly.
Looking at the container packed to the brim with weapons, his scalp tingled.
This was way beyond anything he'd dealt with before.
He jumped down from the truck, shut the container doors, and locked them again.
"Let's go. No sleep tonight," he said, patting Steve on the shoulder.
Steve didn't argue.
He wasn't stupid—he knew exactly what it meant for something like this to sit in a public parking lot.
"I'll grab something from that vending machine," he said, pointing nearby. "We'll need coffee."
Ado glanced over but said nothing.
Instead, he pulled out his phone and began contacting the people Nando had stationed across the U.S. to assist him.