Guns and Coffee in the World of Science

Chapter 164: Xiao Hei's 2nd Miss

Just then, the elevator door dinged open, and two staff members walked in, chatting animatedly: "Wow, I didn't expect to see cars like that nowadays."

"Well, what was that car called?" One of them scratched his head, obviously not remembering it very well.

"It's the Porsche 356A! The GTR next to it looks pretty cool too!" Another person's tone revealed his unconcealable excitement.

Hearing this, Conan's pupils shrank slightly, and he shuddered as if struck by lightning. He turned abruptly and ran to the French window, practically pressing his face against the glass to look down. In front of Building B's exit, two familiar figures slowly emerged. Their steps were unhurried, yet they exuded an unmistakable sense of oppression.

The two men walked over to the black Porsche 356A. One opened the door and climbed into the driver's seat, while the other calmly took the passenger seat. With the deep roar of the engine, the Porsche started steadily and slowly drove away from Building B. The yellow GTR parked next to it stood motionless.

Conan's heart sank, his eyes fixed on the departing car, his mind racing. He recalled the reports he'd reviewed earlier. His hand unconsciously clenched the window railing, he gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and his eyes revealed a complex emotion.

"Sure enough..." Conan muttered to himself, his eyes still fixed on the Porsche's taillights as it gradually disappeared into the distant streetscape. His gaze grew more serious, and he wondered to himself, "Are they among them too?"

"I didn't expect you could actually hold it in?" Chen Shuo's voice suddenly came from Conan's ears, with a hint of teasing and temptation in his tone.

Conan didn't turn around, but his gaze remained fixed on the window, watching the Porsche 356A gradually disappear from view. His eyes were deep, and his voice was low and calm: "They appeared here at this time...which means..."

Chen Shuo smiled slightly and nodded: "Just as you thought."

Conan raised a confident smile and turned to look at Chen Shuo: "Then please arrange a meeting for us, Brother Shuo."

Chen Shuo raised his eyebrows, his tone becoming more playful. "Oh? Are you not afraid of them anymore?"

Conan shook his head, his eyes revealing determination: "We will meet sooner or later. Instead of waiting and responding passively, it is better to take the initiative to control the situation."

Chen Shuo paused for a moment, then smiled appreciatively. "Very good, very courageous." His voice was low and steady, with a hint of elusive meaning. "However, meeting isn't a problem. The question is... are you ready?"

Conan didn't answer directly. He just put his hands in his pockets, looked up at the window, and the smile on his lips became more and more firm: "How can there be so much to prepare?"

---

That night, Damu Yansong angrily pushed open the door and slammed it behind him, his face so gloomy it looked like water could drip out. He took off his coat while cursing angrily, "Damn it... How dare one or two of you disrespect me like this! Just wait! I'll make your opening ceremony a joke!"

As he spoke, he pulled out his phone and quickly flipped through the address book. Just as he was about to dial a number, a clear and pleasant female voice rang out in the silent living room: "Ah, ah... Mr. Congressman, you really have a strong desire for revenge."

The voice was elegant yet chilling. Oki Yansong shuddered, and the phone in his hand dropped to the ground with a thud. He turned abruptly, his voice trembling as he shouted, "Who!? Who's here!?"

On the living room sofa, a woman wearing a strange metal mask sat lazily, legs crossed, her posture as elegant as if she were at home. In her hand, she held a black pistol, slowly and slowly putting the silencer on it, her fingertips moving with practiced ease.

Omu Yansong's face turned pale instantly, cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and his voice was shaking so much that he could hardly speak a complete sentence: "Who are you? How did you get in?!"

The woman did not answer Damu Yansong's question, but just lowered her head and concentrated on tightening the silencer in her hand. She raised her head, her eyes fell coldly on Damu Yansong's face through the mask, and without any hesitation, she raised the pistol and pointed it at his forehead.

"Bang!" With a dull thud, Damu Yansong didn't even have time to react. He fell to the ground with his eyes wide open. There was a bullet hole in his forehead. Blood spread quickly, forming a glaring red on the floor.

The woman glanced down at the body lying on the ground. The corners of her mouth curled slightly under her mask, as if she was showing a bit of disdain: "Why do you have so much to say... Brother Shuo said that villains die from talking too much! I am a villain now."

She muttered to herself as she casually put away the pistol, walked towards the door, and walked out of Omu Yansong's house gracefully and calmly.

A few minutes later.

In the darkness of the night, a figure nimbly climbed over the wall and sneaked into Damu Yansong's home with a knife. He was stunned when he walked into the living room and his eyes fell on the corpse on the floor.

"..." The black shadow was stunned. He lowered his head and looked carefully at the big man Yansong lying on the ground. His eyes swept across the bullet hole on his forehead and his brows frowned instantly.

He squatted down, touched the blood on the ground, looked up at the corpse with its eyes wide open, and muttered, "No... is there anyone else besides me who wants to kill him?"

Watching this scene, he couldn't help but fall into deep thought, and the knife in his hand subconsciously dropped: "What's going on? Who is more anxious than me?"

---

The next day, sunlight streamed through the curtains into the Changpan Group's employee lounge. Yuan Jiaming placed a plate of chocolate cake on the table with anticipation. He picked up a knife and was about to savor this rare dessert when a sudden news report came over the TV screen beside him:

"...Councilman Oki Iwamatsu's body was found last night. Police have launched an investigation and the preliminary ruling is homicide..."

Yuan Jiaming glanced at the screen and snorted indifferently: "Tsk, I don't like that guy anyway, it doesn't matter if he dies." He muttered, his eyes only on the exquisite cake in front of him, and he obviously cared more about his gourmet time.

Just as the knife was about to pierce the cake, a low and cold voice came from behind: "I say... you really are so leisurely, Yuan Jiaming..."

Yuan Jiaming shuddered, the knife in his hand dropping onto the plate with a snap. He turned stiffly, his eyes filled with fear. Gin and Vodka were standing at the door, staring at him coldly.

"GIN..." Yuan Jiaming was oppressed by the aura of gin and vodka, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. With trembling hands, he picked up the table knife and pointed it at the two men, his voice trembling so much that even he couldn't hear it clearly: "You...you are here to kill me?"

Gin was slightly stunned, then snorted disdainfully, his eyes full of mockery: "What do you want to do with this kind of toy? Are you going to make us laugh to death?" His tone was as cold as a knife, making Yuan Jiaming's heart beat wildly.

"Humph!" Vodka crossed his arms, his eyes filled with indifference and sarcasm, and said in a mocking tone: "Since you are so timid, you dare to hack into the organization's computers. I don't know whether you are brave or cowardly."

Yuan Jiaming's face turned pale, and his lips moved, but he couldn't utter a word. His hand holding the knife was shaking even more violently, and he could barely stand still.

Gin glanced at him coldly, clearly losing patience with his reaction. He turned gently and walked towards the door, his voice low but undeniable: "Take him, let's go."

Vodka nodded, sneered, and walked towards Yuan Jiaming. He grabbed his wrist, easily snatched the knife away, and tossed it aside. He whispered, "Be honest and don't try to play tricks, or you won't live to see tomorrow."

Yuan Jiaming's body was as stiff as a rock, and he walked out limply under the pressure of vodka, his eyes filled with despair. He knew he had no choice.

ten minutes later.

A dark figure quietly crept into Yuan Jiaming's home, gently closed the window, and looked around. The room was empty and eerily quiet. He glanced at the dining table and noticed a piece of chocolate cake on it, as if someone had just put it down.

"Hmph, it looks like this guy will be back soon." The black shadow muttered in a low voice, believing that Yuan Jiaming would be back soon.

He found a secluded spot in a corner and waited. However, time passed, and there was still no movement in the room. An hour later, Yuan Jiaming still hadn't appeared.

"Damn it, where did that guy go?" The shadow was getting increasingly irritated, gritting his teeth and cursing silently, but he didn't dare to make any sound. Just as he was hesitating whether to leave, the doorbell suddenly rang.

"Ding-dong-"

The shadowy figure instantly became alert, his eyes glaring as he held his breath and listened attentively. A moment later, the voices of several children could be heard from outside the door: "Brother Yuan Jiaming! We're here to play with you..."

The black shadow cursed inwardly: "Damn kid!" He didn't dare to stay any longer, and quickly jumped out of the window, escaping the scene cleanly and neatly.

Standing in the shadows not far away, he looked down at his watch, then glanced at the window where the light was still on, gritted his teeth and cursed in a low voice: "Two operations in a row have failed, this is hell!" After cursing, he clenched his fists unwillingly, turned around, and disappeared into the night.

---

At night, Conan stood alone at the entrance of Building B of the Twin Towers. In stark contrast to the daytime tranquility, Building B was now unusually bustling. Men in black moved in and out, each one moving swiftly and precisely, seemingly methodically arranging the hotel. They spoke little, yet worked together like a precision machine, their occasional glances revealing a calm and alert demeanor.

Conan stood quietly at the door, his eyes warily scanning the men in black. His childlike appearance didn't attract anyone's attention, as if he belonged here. This made Conan's heart tighten slightly: "Sure enough, they knew I was coming a long time ago."

Just as he was thinking, a burly man in black walked out of the gate and glanced at Conan with a cold, knife-like gaze. Without saying anything, he said in a low voice, "Follow me."

The man in black didn't even look at Conan. He turned around and walked into the hotel on his own. His steps were steady and powerful, and he didn't care at all whether Conan would follow him.

Conan stood there, his eyes narrowed slightly, he took a deep breath, then took a step forward and followed.