As Johnny emerged from the alley with his injuries, Daniel drifted his car to a stop right at the alley's entrance.
As a qualified taxi driver, it was very important to pick up his customers on time.
As for gunfights, he had seen too many to be surprised; in Marseille, weren't gunfights an everyday occurrence?
Pulling the door open and getting into the back seat, Johnny finally relaxed a little.
"Oh, God, you're injured. Do you need me to take you to the nearest one?" Daniel asked with some concern.
"Is there a Continental Hotel in Marseille?"
Johnny inquired, after all, besides the Continental Hotel, there wasn't any place that could provide better medical services.
"Oh ho, the Continental Hotel you mentioned isn't in Marseille, but I can recommend a local clinic with decent medical care; all the gang members love going there."
As a local, Daniel clearly knew the best place to treat gunshot wounds.
Johnny readily agreed to this; with a local on his side, he wasn't worried, as Daniel was the one most familiar with the local situation.
"But there's one thing I need to tell you in advance: there are a lot of people queuing up there every day, and if you want faster medical attention, you'll need to use some unconventional methods."
Daniel explained, considering it a thoughtful service.
"Hmm?"
Daniel's words made Johnny pause, and seeing his dazed look, Daniel slapped his forehead, "I'm not talking about the gangs, I'm talking about the doctor at that clinic."
Hearing this, Johnny's confusion deepened. What, does he have to worry about the doctor's mood just to treat a gunshot wound?
Moreover, this wasn't even a gunshot wound; he was cut by shrapnel.
Regardless of what Johnny was thinking, Daniel stepped on the gas and drove Johnny to a relatively secluded small clinic in the center of Marseille.
Despite being described as secluded, the entrance of this clinic had various luxury cars parked outside, as well as some dilapidated ones, and many people were scattered around.
Before even getting out of the car, Johnny looked up and saw the name of the small clinic, and was immediately stunned.
"House's Clinic?"
What kind of name is that?
"You wouldn't know, this clinic is very famous in our area, and I heard it's even a chain."
Seeing Johnny's somewhat puzzled look, Daniel rubbed his crew cut and then continued to speak volubly.
"The doctor at this clinic is a cripple, but his medical skills are superb. Whether it's a gunshot wound or a knife wound, he can always heal it quickly."
"That's why many gangs are willing to come here to see him and consciously maintain order."
Johnny nodded, then opened the door and got out. All the gang members who were queuing turned their attention to him, then continued to queue silently.
And at the entrance of the clinic, a large note was posted with a line of text on it.
"If you don't know what it means to queue properly, then I don't mind throwing you into the Mediterranean to feed the sharks!"
Oh, what a domineering warning. No wonder these guys are queuing so obediently. Of course, the premise is that your medical skills are also sufficiently impressive.
Johnny had no intention of cutting in line or anything else; he honestly stood at the very end of the queue.
"Chinese? This isn't the place for treatment, you should go somewhere else." The Latino man in front of him, after scrutinizing Johnny, offered his advice.
In his opinion, how could a Chinese person possibly suffer a gunshot wound?
Even they wouldn't dare to injure these Chinese, after all, they were a cash cow; as long as they treated them a little better, they would continuously receive benefits.
Johnny looked up and scanned him, saying nothing, and continued to queue.
The Latino man also stopped talking, but the two Black young mans in front of him became a bit displeased.
"Did you hear him or not? He already told you, this isn't suitable for treatment?"
The two Black young mans turned around, looked at Johnny, and casually lifted their shirts, revealing two Pistols tucked into their waistbands.
Looking at the two of them like that, Johnny even felt like laughing. Aren't you afraid you're about to start rapping next second?
"Aren't you afraid of an accidental discharge with your Pistols tucked in like that, and shooting off your little brother?"
Johnny even mocked them, and immediately the two Black young mans' faces grew darker.
One of them even stepped forward, very close to Johnny, just staring at him.
"Kid, you're looking for death!"
This guy was very close to Johnny, even his breath was on Johnny's face, carrying a strong smell of salted fish.
Johnny almost threw up, but he didn't deal with these guys immediately.
"I'm giving you a piece of advice: now, immediately, get 3 meters away from me, otherwise, I'll show you what it means to have your ass in the air!"
Before Johnny had even finished speaking, the Black young man had already burst into loud laughter, "Hahahaha, what did I hear, another Chinese kid pretending to know Chinese Kung Fu."
Then, he looked at Johnny again, "Hey! Your kind of threat doesn't work on me, understand?"
The Black young man's expression turned fierce, but the next second, Johnny made his move.
Johnny's fist directly slammed into his jaw, while his left hand fiercely jabbed several times into the Black young man's armpit.
However, this was not the end; Johnny's right foot also moved, sweeping fiercely.
At the same time, his right hand changed from striking the jaw to horizontally slicing the Black young man's neck.
"Ow!"
Intense pain instantly assailed the Black young man's brain, and at this moment, he was sprawled on the ground in a kneeling, ass-up, head-down position.
The surrounding gang members were all stunned.
Johnny's move was too swift for anyone to react, but they all saw clearly how clean and precise Johnny's attack was.
Then, Johnny looked at the other Black young man, who waved his hand and took a step back, indicating it had nothing to do with him and that Johnny could do as he pleased.
Clearly, now everyone could see that Johnny, this Chinese, was not to be trifled with.
Such a fierce attack was not something just anyone could accomplish; at least, they couldn't.
The Black young man, who had been groaning in pain on the ground for a while, stood up directly, his tone and expression becoming even more vicious. He even pulled out the Pistol tucked in his pocket.
But what awaited him was an even faster gun-disarming technique.
He hadn't even reacted before Johnny had already snatched his Pistol and pointed it at his 'little brother'.
"What...?"
Looking at his empty hand, and then at the Pistol across from him pointing at his 'little brother', that Pistol was so familiar, but all the hairs on his body stood up, and he dared not move.
"Hehehe, Bro! Relax, I was just playing with you!" The Black young man's expression became extremely terrified.
But Johnny had no intention of letting him go. He looked at the Black young man, "You idiot, if I don't teach you a lesson, you'll really think I'm made of mud, won't you?"
With that, he directly pulled the trigger.
Bang!
"Ah ah ah ah!"
The Black young man could clearly feel the excruciating pain of his balls exploding. He couldn't hold it in, directly clutching his crotch and kneeling on the ground, blood flowing down the torn hole in his pants.
All the surrounding gang members collectively took a step back, some even covering their own crotches.
"Damn it! I will kill you! Fuck you! My balls are gone! (You bastard, I wish your whole family happiness and health)"
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