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Chapter 245 c
🕑 Added 2025-05-24 15:08:02 +0000 UTCChapter 245 c
They had taken advantage of the Valentinos being too busy to respond and seized a considerable portion of territory in Vista Del Rey. From that moment onward, conflicts between the Valentinos and 6th Street began breaking out periodically in the district. However, since neither side dared to escalate things into an all-out gang war, the scale of fighting was deliberately kept at a lower level—more like skirmishes than actual battles. Because of that, neither side was able to completely drive the other out of the area.
Now, with the Clemente family at war with the Kiryu-gumi, the rest of the Valentinos saw it as a golden opportunity to reclaim their lost turf in Vista Del Rey. Just as they were preparing to make their move, both the Manuel family and the Gustavo family received a short message from Leo. The message was brief and to the point: “If you trust me—or trust Jackie—then don’t move. Stay put. Don’t touch the Clemente family’s territory.”
Leo’s warning left both Manuel and Gustavo confused. They couldn’t understand why Leo was telling them to hold back. It was true that the Clemente family was much stronger than any single Valentino branch, but with all the Valentinos getting involved, and the Kiryu-gumi also fighting against Clemente, how could he possibly hold them all off?
In the end, Gustavo, who had grown up with Jackie, chose to believe him. If Jackie trusted Leo, then Gustavo figured he could too. Manuel, on the other hand, wasn’t convinced. Or rather, he remained skeptical. During the previous Valentino council, the reason he had shown greater support for Jackie was partly because Jackie used to work under him, but mostly because he didn’t get along with Juan and the others. Letting Jackie take control of Padre’s former operations was better than letting them get carved up by Juan’s faction.
Still, that didn’t mean Manuel was going to follow Jackie’s lead on everything. Jackie might be a boss now—but so was he.
Even so, Manuel played it smart. He only sent half his men to Vista Del Rey, keeping the other half back to hold his own territory. That way, if anything went wrong, the ones who stayed behind could hold the line until the others returned.
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In Vista Del Rey, at a nightclub formerly controlled by the Clemente family and under 6th Street’s protection, the place now stood deserted. The main entrance was wide open, but no one dared to go in. There were no signs of the Clemente family inside. Members of the Juan family were hiding nearby, keeping a close watch on the club.
“Boss, how much longer are we waiting?” one of the younger guys finally asked, unable to hold it in. They had been waiting since morning—almost three full hours. Everyone was growing restless, but the captain leading the crew hadn’t given the order to move. With no choice, they held out for as long as they could. Eventually, after some discussion, one of them was pushed forward to go ask the captain what they were waiting for.
“Just wait a little longer.”
“Boss, if we keep waiting, we’ll miss the whole thing. Everyone else has already taken over a bunch of places. We haven’t even got one yet.”
The captain looked conflicted, but finally made up his mind. “Let’s go. We’re moving in.”
“Boss gave the word!”
“Everyone, move out!”
More than a dozen men, armed with various weapons, cautiously emerged from hiding and slowly approached the club from multiple angles. The street had originally been filled with pedestrians, but upon seeing armed members of the Juan family out in force, the civilians reacted quickly—running for their lives in every direction.
The group soon reached the entrance of the club. Several of them peered through the open door and windows.
“Boss, can’t see anyone inside.”
“Let’s go. Check it out.”
The captain kicked the door open with one solid blow. The place was indeed empty. He began giving orders to his men, instructing them to check the upper floors. A few minutes later, they returned with the report—there was no one in the building. Anything of value had already been taken, but much of what couldn’t be moved was still there.
The captain grinned. “The Clemente family really bailed. Not one left behind.” After hearing that Clemente was fighting the Kiryu-gumi in Japantown, Juan had mobilized everyone in his crew and scattered them out like a fishing net. In Juan’s own words, this was a race against time.
Clemente’s main base was in Santo Domingo. The turf they’d carved out in Vista Del Rey was valuable, sure, but compared to their core holdings, they were bound to fall back and protect the heart of their territory.
That gave the Valentinos their opening. What used to require bloody fighting could now be taken with minimal cost. Only an idiot would hesitate.
And it wasn’t just the Juan family. The Gonzalez and Hernandez families had also mobilized, and even the Manuel family had taken action. Only the Gustavo family and Padre’s former forces held back.
“Those two idiots won’t even get scraps,” the captain sneered. If you’re late to the draw, the turf gets divided without you. Once someone else claims a place, getting them to give it up later is pure fantasy.
“Leave a few guys here. We’re hitting the next place.” The captain was just about to lead his team out when his eyes landed on a liquor cabinet. It was filled with an array of expensive bottles. Leaving without grabbing a drink seemed like a waste—after all, it had all belonged to the Clementes.
“Hey, you. Grab me a bottle of tequila.”
One of the crew nodded and ran over.
Just as he pulled a bottle down from the cabinet—click—a few soft beeps sounded.
Then—
BOOM!
The entire nightclub exploded in a hellish fireball. Glass and flames burst through the windows, and smoke poured out in thick clouds. Half the building was obliterated in the blast.
No one inside survived.
And this wasn’t an isolated event. Simultaneous explosions erupted across all former Clemente territory in Vista Del Rey. Of all the Valentino families, the Juan crew suffered the worst casualties. Because their leader had acted the fastest and sent out his people before anyone else, they had taken the most turf—and suffered the most devastation.
The Clemente family was one branch of 6th Street. Many of their members were former soldiers, veterans from real wars. They didn’t just know street tactics—they understood warfare, and how to weigh sacrifice against strategic value. On the battlefield, sending soldiers to die as bait to achieve a greater goal was standard procedure.
Clemente himself wasn’t a soldier, but his father had fought in the Central American Wars. Clemente had grown up steeped in that mindset. He knew his family couldn’t hold Vista Del Rey, so instead of handing it over to the Valentinos for free, he chose to leave behind ruins.
He ordered his men to rig the properties with traps and bombs. Anyone who stepped inside would trigger them.
And then—BOOM.
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At the Juan family’s compound, in the office of the family head, Juan received the report from his men. When he heard how many of his crew had been killed, his face went pale.
“Motherfucker!”
His lieutenant hesitated, then asked instinctively, “Should we pull our people back?”
