North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 176 The more highbrow, the more vulgar (Seeking monthly votes)

It was during the dance troupe's rehearsal, and the entire hall was deserted except for the dancers on stage who were swaying like swans.

There was only one exception.

She was a middle-aged woman sitting in the best viewing spot in the back section of the audience.

She wore a scarlet wool coat, her burgundy curly hair was carefully styled, and a cigarette was held between her deep, Slavic features. Her lazy, casual gaze swept across the stage.

Jaina strode briskly to the seat in front of her in her high heels, and before she even sat down, she heard a woman's indifferent voice behind her:

"I'm sorry, Jaina."

The woman parted her red lips slightly and exhaled a smoke ring. "This is a private matter for your Antonio family. The dance troupe will not interfere."

Jaina turned around abruptly, her eyes behind her sunglasses staring coldly at the other person.

After a deathly silence of more than ten seconds, she slowly removed her sunglasses, her voice cold: "Do you know who you're talking to right now, Angelica? I am not only the head of the Antonio family, but also a member of the High Table Council! Do you dare to refuse me?"

The Russian woman chuckled softly, flicking ash from her cigarette with her slender fingers, her gaze still lingering on the dancers on stage, seemingly oblivious to the threatening undertone in the other person's words.

She only spoke lazily when Jaina had grown impatient:
“If I’m not mistaken, Giordani is already on his way to Milan. With your family’s influence in Italy, dealing with him shouldn’t be difficult.”

Angelica exhaled a wisp of smoke and continued, "Look at how panicked you are."

She finally turned her face, her eyes filled with schadenfreude: "I'm afraid that the world-renowned 'Judge' has also come to 'visit' you."

Although she did not name them, both of them knew the answer.

Although the High Table has a position called "Judge" responsible for monitoring the operational order of hotels on various continents, they are ruthless and decisive, and all High Table members, including directors, avoid them like the plague.

But even these fearsome High Table enforcers are nothing more than docile lambs compared to the "judges" Angelica speaks of.

Because the man she was referring to left behind only death steeped in gunpowder smoke and blood that would never congeal wherever he went.

"You know that, Jaina?"

Angelica continued, "I've calculated it for you; your mortality rate this time is 90%."

Gianna's face suddenly darkened: "You underestimate the Antonio family. Even Mussolini couldn't shake us back then, and now you think you can wipe out my family with just one terrorist?"

No, no, no, quite the opposite—

Angelica slowly exhaled smoke rings. "I've already increased your survival rate."

She narrowed her eyes. "Even if you arrange for more bodyguards and mobilize more gunmen, do you think your gang of mafia members can be more elite than the U.S. Secret Service and the Counterterrorism Bureau?"

Seeing Jaina remain silent, she chuckled and asked, "Do you know why I've left you with only a 10% chance of survival?"

Jaina's gaze was sinister, and she remained silent.

Angelica didn't take it seriously and explained leisurely, "According to my North American informants, although Rorschach has extremely strong action capabilities and tactical skills, and his will is as unshakable as steel, he is not without weaknesses."

"What weakness?" Jaina immediately pressed.

"He's obsessed with mature women—especially women like you who are in their early thirties and have a lot of charm."

Angelica gave her a meaningful look, observing her full breasts and the shape of her hips encased in her tight dress.

“When Rorschach was a policeman in Chicago, he went to bars almost every night and a strip club the next day. He brought home only mature women in their thirties and forties.”

"Clearly, this is a young man with boundless energy who has nowhere to vent it, and who happens to have a particular fondness for older women."

"That's your advantage."

Angelica's gaze fell on Gianna's luscious lips, and she shrugged and said jokingly, "So when he holds a gun to your head, I advise you not to resist, but to kneel down and play the flute for him with all your heart."

"Perhaps our judge will spare your life because of your excellent ventriloquism."

"You shameless Russian bitch! Giving that madman a blowjob? Do you think I'm some kind of prostitute?!"

Jaina remained silent for a moment, then finally burst out with a vicious curse.

"Don't forget, your dance troupe was able to come all the way from Russia to Milan to perform entirely because of my connections! Without me, you'd still be eating frozen canned fish in Siberia right now!"

She pointed at Angelica through gritted teeth, her fingertips trembling slightly from her emotional outburst.

However, Angelica remained unmoved, merely flicking her cigarette ash and saying indifferently, "Of course I remember your kindness, Gianna. You are a member of the High Table Council, while I... am merely a 'dance teacher' who trains assassins for the High Table. How can my status compare to yours?"

She paused, then replied helplessly, "But this is the elder's order. He strictly forbids all High Table council members, including vassal forces, from hunting down Luo Xia. So..."

She shrugged, her expression full of helplessness.

Jaina stared intently at her, a curse churning within her.

In the past, it wasn't that no one dared to kill in mainland hotels—Paris, London, Milan, Osaka, Bangkok…every place has had its share of rule-breakers.

But their fates were all the same: they were all besieged by the High Table Council, and none of them survived more than twelve hours.

This time, however, the elders strictly forbade anyone from touching Rorschach's finger.

Why? Jaina couldn't understand.

It is said that Rorschach was born into a single-parent family, and his father disappeared when his mother was pregnant.

Could this Chicago country bumpkin be the elder's illegitimate son?
Jaina couldn't understand it, and she didn't have time to figure it out; she just felt like the flames were already burning her eyebrows.

"Just you wait and see."

She glared at Angelica, "I'll live a long and arduous life to show you damn bitches! I'll outlive all of you, and the Antonio family will only grow stronger under my rule!"

After saying that, Gianna picked up her handbag, her face once again covered with a mask of indifference, and strode quickly toward the theater exit in her high heels.

But just as she was about to leave, Angelica suddenly spoke again.

"Since you have indeed contributed to the troupe, I can bring the girls to your manor to perform for three days."

Jaina paused, glancing at her suspiciously.

Angelica smiled at her and nodded, saying, "Although the elder is protecting Rorschach, he hasn't mentioned John's name. If John really shows up, my girls will help you deal with him."

"."

Jaina neither thanked her nor refused; she didn't even say a word.

She gave the Russian woman a final, cold glance, snorted, and left the theater without looking back.

At first, the other woman addressed John as Giordani, which clearly indicated that they were old acquaintances. She had no idea whether this woman wanted to help her get rid of John or wanted to protect him in advance.

However, having another professional assassin team guarding the manor was ultimately more beneficial than harmful. So she didn't refuse their offer.

Before long, only Angelica remained in the audience, quietly watching dozens of girls on stage tiptoe, dancing lightly and gracefully like swans.

A female leader, still in her costume, approached and, gazing in the direction Gianna had gone, asked in a low voice, "Since the elders forbid outsiders from interfering, why did you get involved? It couldn't really be to save John, could it?"

“Heh, I do have some connection with Night Demon, but not to the point of disobeying the elders’ orders for him,” Angelica replied calmly.

"Why then?"

“Because of nanobombs!” Angelica’s eyes darkened. “When the Eastern European weapons experts were evacuating, that bitch Anna tricked us and fled to New York with the prince of the little country. Not long after, news came from our CIA contacts that KGB agents had defected.”

"Immediately afterwards, Rorschach attacked the Statue of Liberty with nanobombs."

The female tour leader's pupils contracted slightly: "You mean..."

"That's right!"

Angelica stated unequivocally, "Anna is most likely having an affair with Rorschach. This traitor has been a double agent for so many years, and now she's defected from the CIA to join a terrorist!"

She sneered, raising the corners of her mouth: "This time, the moment Rorschach shows his face, send someone to follow him. I will not only retrieve the nanobomb, but I will also personally execute this traitor!"

"But how do we explain this to Elder Gaozhuo?" the female team leader asked hesitantly.

"High table?"

Angelica scoffed dismissively, "They're just a bunch of lowlife criminals. Don't forget our true identities."

The female team leader nodded emphatically, her eyes filled with determination.

"Should we send a few Redbirds out to make contact with Rorschach beforehand? He's full of hatred for America, and we might be able to bring him to our side."

“This…” Angelica had never considered trying to win over Rorschach, but judging from his actions, he was indeed hostile to the United States.

"Let's talk about it later. I'll have a chance to talk to him when I have the opportunity."

"Also, there's been a bit of a problem with Luni."

"What happened to that girl this time?"

"It seems like she's recalling memories from before she was brainwashed."

"."

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At 8 p.m. sharp, a grand banquet gathering Milan's high society was held as scheduled at the Antonio family's estate.

A fleet of top-of-the-line luxury cars, guided by waiters, were neatly parked in the parking area at the entrance of the manor.

Among the guests who stepped off the car were top fashion designers, internationally renowned movie stars, and even high-ranking officials from different political parties in the municipal government.

Guests, arm in arm with their partners, gracefully displayed their invitations and underwent security checks at the red carpet entrance in front of the villa.

The Antonio family has been operating in Italy for over a century, with partners throughout both political and business circles.

As for the fashion world, needless to say, this is Milan, where there is no shortage of top models.

Almost every few steps you could encounter a famous face that frequently appears on television or magazine covers; the whole scene was extremely luxurious.

A black Bentley slowly drove into the estate.

After getting out of the car, Luo Xia quickly scanned his surroundings.

Tonight, he wore gold-rimmed glasses and a well-tailored custom-made suit, appearing exceptionally refined and roguish after careful disguise.

Anna, standing next to him, was wearing a long, flowing gold fishtail dress, but unusually, she was wearing sunglasses that covered half of her face.

As she raised her hand to straighten the front of her dress, and was about to take Luo Xia's arm, she suddenly noticed that the man beside her had been standing still since getting out of the car, staring intently in a certain direction.

"What's wrong? Did you see someone you know?" Anna asked in a low voice.

Rorschach shook his head slightly and gestured with his chin towards a spot not far away: "Look at that woman, isn't she Monica Bellucci?"

Anna followed his gaze.

Beside the fountain in the center of the courtyard, a plump, brown-haired woman is talking with a friend.

The woman wore a tight-fitting, deep V-neck dress. Although she looked to be over forty, her figure remained flawless.

Especially her impressive bust, which made the dress look full and shapely, and it was dazzlingly white under the lights.

“It should be her. This woman was originally an Italian model,” Anna replied casually.

She noticed Rorschach's fixed gaze and, thinking of his particular fondness for mature women, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and offer a ridiculous suggestion: "If you're really interested, why don't you just go up and strike up a conversation? With your looks and the wealthy identity Harold arranged for you, you're guaranteed to succeed."

"Surely not? She's an international movie star, how could her belt be so loose?" Luo Xia was skeptical.

"Ha! If you don't loosen your belt, how can you become an international movie star?"

Anna lowered her voice and chuckled, "At banquets of this caliber, they'll prepare a dozen or so empty rooms just for couples who hit it off. You just have to tell the waiter you're not feeling well, and they'll kindly escort you upstairs and even tell you where the condoms are."

Rorschach smiled noncommittally.

It's quite common for men and women to hit it off at parties and then find a place for "deeper interaction."

However, if the object is someone who sparked your sexual awakening in your youth, then the meaning is somewhat different.

Rorschach stroked his chin, smiled and nodded at Monica who was looking at him. The night was still long, and he had plenty of time.

After tossing the car keys to the waiter, he took Anna's hand and walked into the manor.

Along the way, Luo Xia noticed that many men and women would get close together while chatting, and some even touched each other without regard for others.

The banquet had barely begun when an ambiguous atmosphere filled the air, especially among the models and politicians.

"Holy crap, the higher up they go, the more vulgar they become," Rorschach muttered under his breath. "Is this a dinner party or a 'sex party'? The atmosphere is so weird."

As a former insider, Anna explained, "The Antonio family has extensive connections in Italy. No one dares to take photos secretly in this estate, and no one dares to talk nonsense outside. So, normally respectable political and business figures shed their pretenses here and indulge in unrestrained pleasure."

"I see."

Rorschach nodded knowingly. He knew these celebrities and socialites were no good when he snuck into the Puff Daddy party in New York, and now that he's in Europe, it seems like nothing has changed.

Oh right, things have changed; at least he hasn't seen many Black people yet.

This is much more enjoyable than a Puff Daddy party.

Just hours before they got off the plane, Harold learned through special channels that the Antonio family was going to hold a grand three-day banquet.

With Harold's global business network, getting a few invitations would be a piece of cake.

In less than half an hour, Rorschach and Anna received their gold-embossed invitations and were each given a new identity: Rorschach transformed into a tech tycoon with a market value of billions of euros, while Anna naturally played the role of the supermodel he casually picked up.

Harold knew exactly what would happen at the manor tonight, and he didn't want to witness any bloodshed. He didn't even bother with off-site hacking support and simply took his two dogs for a stroll through the streets of Milan.

As for John, the cold-blooded killer was assigned other tasks.

And with his long hair, he's easily recognizable wherever he goes, far more so than Rorschach, who sometimes sports a slicked-back hairstyle and sometimes a full beard.

Upon entering the villa's lobby, the first thing that catches the eye is not the luxurious party one might expect, but rather melodious waltz music and a ballet troupe gracefully dancing in the center of the lobby.

Anna's previously calm expression suddenly tensed when she saw the group of dancers.

Luo Xia also unconsciously narrowed his eyes—in his vision, all twenty-odd ballet girls were shrouded in a thick black mist!
(The power went out at home tonight. The building's electrician had already left for the day, so I asked a neighbor to come and take a look. They discovered that the wires were burnt. That's why I'm typing this on my phone, so there's only one update today. I'll make up for it tomorrow. Sorry.)
(End of this chapter)