Chapter 167 Assault
Crest looked at the people around him, feeling a sense of sadness. He used to be a powerful figure in the family, and could decide the fate of tens of thousands of employees with just one word. But now, apart from some mercenaries hired with money, there are only a dozen people willing to follow him, and among them there must be an insider of Edward's brat.
The two cousins who were willing to support him behind the scenes, Elfry and Ian, one was terminally ill and the other was too old to live , so they fantasized about using the legendary book to revive their lives. As for Kleist, he couldn't stand the result of losing power completely after the old man's death, and he couldn't stand that guys like Edward and Arthur, who didn't even have the qualifications to sit in front of him, were now climbing over his head, so he was chasing an impossible thing in the eyes of others.
Since the last patriarch's direct descendants all died in the upheaval two or three years ago, Kleist was the only one in the family who still believed in the patriarch's delusion, because he still clearly remembered how rational and wise the old man was before he became suspicious, stubborn, and withdrawn in his later years. It was impossible for him to be so convinced by ordinary scams or myths and legends. He must have seen it with his own eyes and experienced the magic of that existence, so he had been persistent in wanting to get it.
As for the disaster that resulted in the instant annihilation of the backbone of the family, this was a price that could be paid if the book could be obtained. However, after making so many preparations, nothing was gained in the end. No one could tolerate such a result.
Therefore, the previous head of the family is now almost nailed to the pillar of shame in everyone's eyes. No one mentions how wise he used to be. All they know is that he brought disaster to all the people of the Whitt family because he had provoked a mysterious family of a huge country without authorization.
Only Kleist still remembered, only Kleist would chew his name between his teeth from time to time - Ashburne Whitt.
But according to Crest's investigation, the Xiao family members who were suspected of owning the book seemed to think that there was no danger after that, and in the past two years they no longer hid like turtles, but appeared openly. She was just a little girl in her twenties, and she couldn't be more difficult to deal with than her elders, nor was she as cunning and patient as them, so she gave them the opportunity to succeed.
Kleist sighed for a moment, waved his hand, and said casually: "Let's get started."
His three trusted men responded in unison and began to convey the mission to the people below. All the people carrying out the mission were equipped with instant cameras and microphones. Kleist, leaning on a cane, stood in front of the monitoring screen and watched the operation unfold as planned.
…
The transportation system in City S quietly changed its controller.
On the main traffic arteries of S City, the time of the traffic lights changing was slightly different from usual, maybe just a few seconds, but after several changes, the error of a few seconds easily caused serious traffic jams in this city with a large flow of people. In several places, vehicles scraped and rear-ended each other because drivers did not react in time, car owners quarreled on the road, and vehicles parked at the hub made the traffic flow slower. Only on the route planned in advance by the people of Crest, the green lights all the way allowed them to pass at the fastest speed, and soon after they passed, the road was blocked.
Xiaoxiao was looking at an art exhibition in an art gallery. This was an exhibition jointly organized by several unknown young abstract painters. In S City, where people would crowd everywhere, only this place was still deserted. There were almost no people in the exhibition hall except Xiaoxiao and Yan Ce who was following her. Even the organizer of the exhibition was nowhere to be found. A tour guide asked unenthusiastically if anyone needed an explanation, and after being rejected by Yan Ce, he went away to play with his mobile phone.
Xiao Xiao looked at several paintings in a row. Seeing a large number of chaotic blocks of color piled together, lines and dots that would give people trypophobia, colorful pictures that looked like kindergarten children's scribbles, and various paintings that twisted the human body into strange shapes and piled together, she couldn't help asking: "Yan Ce, can you understand what these paintings are about?"
Yan Ce said without pause: "Abstract paintings break the traditional concept that paintings must imitate nature. They take intuition and imagination as their starting point and reject symbolism..."
"Okay, I'm not asking you about the concept of abstract painting. I'm asking, can you understand what these paintings are trying to express?" Xiao Xiao interrupted him.
Yan Ce can hack into the museum’s database at any time to retrieve information about these paintings, which of course includes emotional introductions by the artists, but when it comes to understanding… He stared at the paintings for a while, which was rare, before he said, “I can’t appreciate the aesthetics and connotation of the paintings, but I can see that there are very unique binary logic operations in the lines of some paintings.”
Xiao Xiao was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing and said, "You are the only one who can give such an answer! Well, I can't see any calculations, so I still prefer to imitate the paintings of nature, at least that way I can understand what they are painting." After she finished speaking, she couldn't help but sigh softly and said, "Sometimes I really doubt whether I can understand what they are thinking no matter how many books I read or how close I am to those students. I don't understand why their imaginations are always so boundless, I don't understand the music and paintings they appreciate, and I don't like the stars and TV shows they like. Their behavior sometimes makes me envious, and sometimes makes me feel crazy and incredible, but I know that I can never be like them."
Yan Ce remained silent. His strong calculation ability and high degree of anthropomorphism did not mean that his emotional ability was equally developed. When he did not know what Xiao Xiao was talking about or did not know how to answer, he would always remain silent.
Xiao Xiao stopped looking at the paintings on the wall and walked slowly along the passage, saying, "Look how well that kid did. Sometimes I wonder why I didn't think of doing the same thing as him. I thought I was better than the ancestors of the Xiao family, but compared to him, it seems that I have always been just playing small tricks. These days, I gradually figured it out. I was too scared. After Yasiborn, I no longer dared to trust other people and let others discover my specialness. I thought I was still moving forward, but in fact, I had long lost the courage to move forward."
Yan Ce said calmly: "You are the best."
Xiao Xiao smiled and was about to speak when suddenly all the lights in the art gallery went out.
Yan Ce said: "The power supply has been cut off and the wireless signal has been blocked."
"They are here?" Xiao Xiao looked around and realized that they were the only two people in the exhibition hall.
Yan Ce suddenly stretched out his hand and pulled Xiao Xiao into his arms. His tall and broad body completely blocked the girl. With a "bang", a bullet hit Yan Ce in the back, and a hole was torn in his hand-made suit, with a few wisps of black smoke coming out.
But the man's body didn't even shake. He raised his arm without looking back and fired a shot behind him, killing the gunman who came out from the corner.
"Coming." Yan Ce then answered Xiao Xiao's question indifferently.
At the same time, Shao Baoer and twenty or thirty other people came out from various places such as the corners of the room, the roof, behind the oil paintings, and the bathroom, and engaged in a firefight with the suddenly appearing enemy. The sound of "tat tat tat" immediately filled the entire art gallery.
Outside the art museum, there were crowds of people walking by, completely unaware of what was happening inside the exhibition hall just across the wall.
…
There was a van parked on the side of the road with colorful advertising pictures painted on its body, parked next to the woods near the park.
A traffic policeman walked over and looked at the car window. Seeing that there were people sitting in the driver's seat and the passenger seat, he knocked on the window.
The two people in the car looked at each other and exchanged a few glances. After a while, the driver lowered the window and asked with a smile: "Hello, what's the matter?"
The driver had black hair, black eyes, and yellow skin, and spoke fluent Mandarin. In the eyes of foreigners, he looked no different from a Chinese. But in the eyes of Chinese people, they could tell at a glance that he was not a Chinese.
However, there are more and more foreigners working in Sugar Country. The traffic police did not say anything, but warned: "You can't park here. You have to drive away immediately."
The driver looked a little more relaxed, handed over a cigarette and said, "We're waiting for someone, it will only take a few minutes at most, big brother, can you make some concessions?"
The traffic police looked at the expensive cigarettes, then at the driver, and a faint smile appeared on his serious face, and the driver smiled as well. The young traffic police reached out to take the cigarettes, and when he was about to get them, he suddenly stretched out his hand and grabbed the driver's wrist and pulled him towards him, and with his other hand, he clenched his fist and hit him on the head with a bang . The driver fainted instantly, and the traffic police muttered: "I told you to go, but you didn't go. If you don't accept my toast, you will be fined!"
The man in the passenger seat hurriedly reached his hands into his arms, and the window next to him suddenly broke into pieces. A man with a very cold expression grabbed his head and slammed it forward twice, and the passenger fainted with blood all over his head. The cold man lifted his shirt and saw a black pistol hidden inside.
The rear carriage was also opened, and after a series of ping-pong sounds, silence returned to normal.
Shi Xingchen, who was dressed in a suit and tie as if he was going to attend a banquet, pushed up his glasses, patted the non-existent dust on his sleeves, and said, "The boss said this is an emergency, so we don't need to deal with it directly, we can just call the police. What do you think?"
An old man, reeking of alcohol, said, "They are all foreigners anyway, just kill them."
"We don't know what these people want to do." Zhou Dong said disapprovingly.
"They've hidden guns and these devices in the carriage show they've hacked into the transportation system. What good can they do?" The old man squinted at him, seeming to be somewhat disdainful of his indecision.
Gong Lan, who was trotting beside Zhou Dong, looked at him with wide eyes in horror. When she was with these people, they did a lot of things, most of which were to punish bad guys, which was very satisfying. It seemed that she had just seen what some people were like at this moment.
Zhou Dong said coldly: "We are not killers, nor are we anyone's puppets. Lu Xiong, for your sake, it's best not to do this."
The gray-haired Lu Xiong sneered and was about to speak when Shi Xingchen interrupted their escalating argument and asked, "If we call the police, how will these guys be sentenced?"
The traffic policeman took off his hat, got on the car and searched it, then helplessly spread his hands and said, "There was only one person with a pistol, and the equipment in the car was also damaged by you. Plus, they were all foreigners, so..."
Lu Xiong pulled out the dagger and was about to pedal. Before Zhou Dong could stop him, Shi Xingchen stopped him and said, "Uncle, we have our own rules. Let me handle this matter."
Lu Xiong looked at him steadily, snorted and chuckled, put the dagger away, and returned to his lazy look. He took out the wine jug from his waist and took a sip.
Shi Xingchen said to the "traffic policeman," "Tan Ming, didn't we find a lot of white powder from that gangster's house last time? Is it still with you?"
Tan Ming rolled his eyes and said with a smile, "They are all here."
"Hide in their car, then call the police. Don't forget to take a few fingerprints." Shi Xingchen said, and then asked Zhou Dong and Lu Xiong: "Are you satisfied now? Hurry up, we have another target."
…
Kleist folded his arms anxiously, tapping his arms with his fingers. The plan went smoothly only at the beginning, but then it seemed to be stuck in a quagmire, and his men lost contact one after another. Even if he was simple-minded, he knew that he might have stepped into a trap.
"Click." The door lock made a slight sound.
Kleist immediately raised his gun and yelled, "Who?"
A strong sense of uneasiness rose from the bottom of his heart. He had arranged a lot of people outside the door, and no one would come in without his permission. But now...
Did his men rebel? Or were they all dealt with?
The door was pushed open a crack, and Kleist fired three shots in a row without hesitation, "Bang, bang, bang". Several transparent holes were made on the wooden door, but there was still no sound.
Several of his close associates had already put down their work and raised their guns for defense. One of them looked at Kleist and slowly approached the door. After taking a few steps, he suddenly fell down!
——What’s going on?
As soon as this thought came to Kleist, an irresistible sleepiness enveloped him completely. He struggled hard and fell down one after another with several people around him.
Rong Yuan walked in wearing a gas mask and whispered to the person who could no longer hear, "I'm sorry, I've been in a tight spot lately. Even a small mosquito is still meat. Who told you to lose tens of thousands of merits? Oh, there's also a guy who lost 130,000 merits, Crest, what did you do before?"
Of course, the fainted Kleist had no way to answer him, nor could he stop him from pulling him up by his hair. A cold light flashed across his neck.
"Bad taste." Wandou commented with a sluggish face, "The book says that villains die because they talk too much. Rongyuan, you better be careful."
Rong Yuan ignored it and said to himself: "Leave the body here as a warning, right?"
