Killing the MotherFucker.

Jack went outside from the hotel and saw Clark's car rolling in.

As the sleek Range Rover rolled to a stop, Clark casually rolled down the window, letting out a puff of cigar smoke that blended with the city air. His black sunglasses gleamed under the bright sunlight, and he had an air of nonchalance that was hard to miss.

"Yo, Doc, where are you heading now?" Clark asked, his tone relaxed as he glanced at Jack through the rearview mirror.

Jack opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat, fastening his seatbelt. "Take me to the Crown Building first, then a local gun shop," he replied, his voice calm and direct.

Clark arched an eyebrow, his lips curling into a sly smirk. "The Crown Building? What are you planning to do with that?"