Hidden Assassin 224

Manhattan, 2:00 AM.

In the streets surrounded by towering skyscrapers, the city’s hustle and bustle continued, the brilliant lights extending into the endless streets. The traffic was still dense, with fewer pedestrians than during the day. The number of homeless people, beggars, and strangely dressed young people increased. Police cars parked on the roadside, two policemen stood by the utility pole, sipping coffee and chatting. The white steam from the coffee mixed with their breath and words. Somehow, everyone subconsciously stopped and looked up at the night sky in the city, surrounded by tall buildings, raising their hands.

Feathery snowflakes were falling from the sky.

On the eve of Christmas, the first snow of the winter fell in New York.

In the “Saint John” restaurant, which was open 24 hours a day, people who were still resting inside talked excitedly about the falling snow through the large floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Compared to the previous soft background music, which was a bit monotonous, the arrival of the first snow undoubtedly brought new vitality to the restaurant. Everyone’s faces showed genuine relaxed smiles, talking about the snow, talking about things that were truly interesting.

This restaurant is about 400 to 500 square meters in size, with a simple and elegant decoration and sufficient lighting. At this time, the restaurant was about 80% full, mostly young men and women, most of them were employees who worked overnight in nearby companies and office buildings, coming here to relax and take a break. These people usually drank coffee, and there were also those who didn’t know where to go on this Christmas Eve. They usually had a glass of wine in front of them and drank silently without saying a word. Occasionally, someone would push the door open, subconsciously patting the snowflakes off their shoulders, calling out something at the counter and taking it away for takeout.

A young woman in white was sitting at a corner seat near the window. She wore a white baseball cap with a Nike logo, and under the brim was an exquisite face with an oriental flavor. She held a book in her hand and flipped through it quietly. A white windbreaker was hung on the side of the chair, the warm fleece sweater outlined a figure that was somewhat lacking compared to Westerners but perfectly suited to an Oriental. The fleece sweater was also white, blending perfectly with the snowy scene outside. She was wearing gray-blue trousers, one leg crossed over the other. There was a cup of coffee in front of her, which seemed to have cooled down after she stayed for a while, but she didn’t seem to mind. She occasionally put down the book, took a sip of coffee, and then smiled at the snowy scenery outside.

Even in the world metropolis of New York, it was rare to see such a near-perfect Chinese girl. After a while, a man in his thirties, wearing the restaurant’s uniform and with a mature and charming appearance, came over with another cup of hot coffee, gently replacing the coffee cup in front of the girl. The girl slightly raised her head and glanced at him: “I didn’t ask for service.”

“Your coffee is cold, this one is free to try.”

“Hmm.” Not too surprised, the girl nodded and then lowered her eyelids. She flipped a page in the book and said softly, “Thank you.”

She’s hard to talk to, the man thought. Perhaps she was used to getting such inexplicable benefits. Then, he naturally pulled up the chair on the other side and sat down: “If you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Sam Elliott, the chef here. Are you Chinese?”

The woman smiled, closed the book, and looked up: “If you’re the chef of this restaurant, then I think you should go back to the kitchen.”

The chef smiled, ignoring the dismissal in her words: “Japanese?”

She shook her head and her gaze drifted to the snowy street outside. The traffic was still congested, coming and going. The snowflakes melted as soon as they fell to the ground, but the flying snowflakes and the white steam from people’s breath still brought a sense of coldness. In front of her, the chef was still talking with a smile that was very pleasing.

“So you’re Chinese. I’ve been to China several times. Beijing, Hong Kong, Hangzhou, China is great…”

“Thank you,” the woman took a sip of coffee, then smiled and confessed, “I hate America. If possible, I wish I could stay away.”

…

…

From a purely artistic perspective, this was a room with absolutely no beauty. Of course, in terms of pure practicality, it had ample lighting, reasonable arrangement, various modern facilities and equipment, a large display screen on the metal wall, neatly arranged bookshelves and folders, everything designed for efficiency, the standard American style.

“… Respected Mr. Castro, to show our gratitude, Mr. Omori has sent us here today, not only to express our thanks, but also to bring you this plan for our next stage of cooperation. As we all know, the Japanese Gao Tian Yuan, the Chinese Yan Huang Jue Xing, and the Nordic Dark Lyra, after the last meeting, have already begun to form an initial alliance, so currently, we are still on the defensive in the Asian region. The Japanese government hopes for stability. After their intervention, we have also been greatly restricted…” The sound of conversation rang in the room, “… There’s a Chinese saying, ‘If the lips are gone, the teeth will be cold.’ Therefore, Mr. Omori hopes that everyone can temporarily set aside their past prejudices. After New York, we will also go to South America, Australia, and Europe, and we hope Mr. Castro can issue a joint statement with Mr. Omori…”

“Mr. Omori already called me before you boarded the plane regarding this matter. It will be no problem.” Mr. Castro sitting inside laughed, “However, there are still different opinions within the organization about certain things… Tracing back to the root, the Pei Luo Jia was formerly known as ‘Dead Color Bodhi,’ originating from China. It has evolved over hundreds of years into the global organization it is today. Clearly, in some respects, there have been fundamental changes. We don’t believe that the integrity of the organization is necessarily a good thing. The Pei Luo Jia forces in Northern Europe are dominated by the French, who, at present, have almost become freedom fighters fighting for the independence of Corsica. We all know Corsica is a sacred land. It is rightfully an independent country. I admire their spirit, but I have to admit, they can no longer be called assassins. And in North America, we don’t just run a killing business. You know, we even participate in politics…”

The entire Pei Luo Jia was riddled with internal contradictions. Although the American branch had a good relationship with the Japanese headquarters, there were naturally people they didn’t see eye to eye with. They spoke of freedom for Corsica, but being practical, they had a dislike for the French’s hopelessly romantic sentiment. In their eyes, these fools opposed everything they could, using this to express their unique taste and style. After several unpleasant collaborations, both sides had fallen out. There was also some friction between South America and North America, and the Australian branch had always been insignificant, disliked by everyone and disliking everyone…

Of course, these were minor matters. When they needed to unite, they could temporarily come together. After all, they faced many crises. After the previous attempt to kill James and frame the Yan Huang Jue Xing failed, the ‘Creation Miracle’ had been constantly looking for trouble with the American Pei Luo Jia… After talking for a while, they got to the most practical matter at hand.

“Regarding that Zhang Yahán, we are not trying to kill her. We have always held a considerable amount of awe for a killer as powerful as Yu Jin Xiang. However, since the unauthorized actions of ‘No Thoughts of the Gods,’ there has been little room for compromise between the two sides. As we know, although the Yan Huang Jue Xing has been protecting this person, Miss Yu Jin Xiang actually has no real intention of cooperating with the Yan Huang Jue Xing. She is a true free spirit. Therefore, as long as we have a hostage she cares about, we will have a significant advantage. Of course… if she goes to Japan, we can only kill her, but that would be very troublesome. It’s unnecessary…”

“We understand this. But as we know, the Yan Huang Jue Xing’s response this time was very quick. It seems they had some people here before Miss Zhang arrived in America. They rushed to the scene and provided protection for Miss Zhang.” Castro smiled, “Of course, don’t worry. We won’t be intimidated by that level of protection, even if the legendary ‘Undead’ Mr. Cui Guohua is there… After all, this is America. Protection is much more troublesome than destruction.”

“We certainly understand the strength of the American branch.” The Japanese envoy echoed with a smile, “And the Yan Huang Jue Xing is also an unwelcome person in America, right?”

“Haha, in normal times, the FBI and the NSA would have been involved, but because of the last incident, the Creation Miracle also has great animosity towards us. They used their influence within the government. This time, they should remain neutral, of course… I like neutrality.”

He smiled, revealing his teeth. The phone on the desk rang. The man named Castro picked it up, and after a moment, hung up. “Actually, our people have already completed the initial reconnaissance. I think we can carry out the operation tomorrow. At that time, maybe Mr. Watanabe can take Miss Zhang back to Japan together. I think it will be a pleasant trip…”

…

…

The snowflakes continued to fall heavily. In the restaurant, the chef continued talking.

“Then I think we have something in common. I hate New York too…”

To be fair, he was indeed a charming man. Although his approach was a bit abrupt, his smile was sincere, and his way of speaking was not unpleasant. He didn’t look like a playboy either. If it had been an ordinary conversation, at least most girls would have smiled and nodded in agreement, and some might even develop a crush. However, before he could elaborate on his reasons for hating New York, the woman glanced at a car parked by the roadside, smiled, and stood up, picking up her windbreaker and placing the money on the table.

“It’s said that if you believe in the Lord, then any sin will be redeemed.”

She said this, and the man suddenly felt a bit confused. He subconsciously nodded, only then did he notice that the woman was holding a Bible, although it looked like the cheapest and crudest pirated Bible in the world, which was obvious at a glance.

“Praise the Lord.”

The tone seemed sarcastic, but she didn’t say anything else. She put on her windbreaker and walked straight out of the door, stepping out into the falling snow.

The man opened his mouth, sighing helplessly for a long time. A waiter came over to clear the table, laughing: “Sam? You get rejected sometimes too?”

“Occasionally.” He smiled nonchalantly, but his gaze involuntarily turned to the window, following the Chinese girl. He saw her walking back towards the restaurant along the street, the snowflakes landing on her baseball cap and coat. The street scene remained the same, the bright streetlights, the constant flow of traffic, the two policemen chatting in the police car at the corner, a small car not far away opened the door, an ordinary person walked out of the restaurant with takeout coffee and egg tarts, carrying the bag into the car. The small car seemed to be about to drive away.

The woman stopped in front of the window, as if remembering something, and followed the man to the parking spot by the roadside. The man had already gotten in the car, and the woman leaned in through the car window and said something. A round object could be faintly seen attached to the front windshield. For a moment, the person in the car’s expression and actions seemed strange.

What are they saying?

The question arose involuntarily in his mind. From the back, it seemed like the woman’s body moved slightly. The glass on the front passenger door shattered abruptly. Before he could even react to what was happening, the woman’s windbreaker suddenly flew up. In her hands, she held two submachine guns, one pointed at the person in the car window, the other pressed against the head of an American man who had rushed out of the back door.

He would never forget what happened in that moment for the rest of his life.

In a flash, gunshots rang out. Even inside the restaurant, they could be heard clearly. Through the transparent glass window, amidst the falling snow, the man’s head exploded like a watermelon, blood splattered everywhere. The gun barrel was pulled down without hesitation, the whole body was directly torn apart, bullets pierced through, countless pieces of flesh spread out, instantly creating a terrifying trail of blood several meters long on the ground.

Within a few seconds, the small car was riddled with holes from the crazy gunfire. The two people inside were shot to pieces, one escaped, but only ran a few steps before being knocked into the air by the traffic flow, followed by a chaotic mixture of honking and crashing sounds, a large-scale traffic accident occurred in an instant.

Supporting herself on the car roof, the woman flipped over the small car and walked straight towards the man who was trying to escape from the ground. At the same time, the two policemen in the police car at the corner finally reacted…

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