Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 112 Terrible Sense of Humor
The atmosphere inside the room was almost frozen.

The bodyguard standing behind Boris's fingers trembled slightly as he instinctively reached for the pistol at his waist.

The other person noticed and quickly whispered a warning: "Don't use the gun."

He then turned to Boris and, as calmly as possible, commanded, "Face the wall and spread your arms."

Boris remained motionless.

His face was ashen, his Adam's apple bobbed, but he couldn't utter a single complete word for a long time.

The bodyguard repeated, this time raising his voice: "Now! Stand facing the wall!"

Upon hearing this, Boris shrugged.

His gaze swept over the corner of the table, the buckle, and the shoe prints on the carpet, before settling on the middle-aged man's feet.

The other party was slowly backing away and had already approached the gate.

At that moment, the tension that had been building in Boris's mind finally eased—

It snapped.

"You're trying to escape?"

His whole body tensed, his eyes widened, and driven by fear, he roared:

"You fucking want to run away right now?"

"You son of a bitch, you want me to die here alone?"

“Boris—” The middle-aged man froze, trying to control the situation. “Calm down.”

"calm?!"

Boris suddenly stepped forward, yelling, "Fuck your calm!"

All the suppressed emotions were instantly ignited, blood rushed to the head, and a whoosh filled the brain.

He pulled a metal lighter from his pocket, held it high in the air, his arm trembling, his voice completely shattered:
"I'm telling you all, don't fucking move—don't fucking move!!"

"If I lift a finger now, we'll all fucking die!"

The middle-aged man's expression changed, and his attitude softened immediately:

“Boris, listen to me, put these things down, we don’t need to come to this.”

"You want my trust? You want my money? You want Igor dead? You can have either."

"We can talk—"

"Talk to your mother's ass!!"

It would have been better if he hadn't said it. The moment he did, the anger in Boris's chest instantly overwhelmed all reason.

"I risked my life to run errands for you guys, and you've never treated me like a human being from beginning to end!"

"I'm just a tool, aren't I?!"

"Mossad, you son of a bitch! A bunch of animals! You fucking treated me like a dog!!"

He was trembling all over, his fingers pressing on the lighter's switch, as if he had already mentally identified it as a real trigger.

The middle-aged man's face finally no longer held that aloof indifference.

Rather, it was fear, real, visceral fear.

He took half a step back, his tone changing: "Boris, listen to me, we—"

"Shut up!!"

"Shut the fuck up!!"

"Today, none of us will leave here alive!"

"Today, I'm going to drag you all down with me!!"

The next second—

"click"

The door was gently pushed open from the outside.

A black figure appeared silently.

No one had time to react.

There were no warnings whatsoever.

"Bang-bang!"

A short gunshot rang out.

The two bodyguards fell backward almost simultaneously.

A spray of blood erupted from his neck.

The middle-aged man was startled and instinctively wanted to turn around and run away.

But the assassin was even faster.

The door was closed and locked.

Then he slapped him across the face.

The middle-aged man tilted his head to the side, staggered backward, and half of his face instantly swelled up with a burning sensation.

"Shut up. Kneel down. Put your hands behind your head."

Before he could finish speaking, the dark muzzle of a gun was pointed at him.

The middle-aged man swallowed hard, not daring to say anything, and did as he was told, his voice trembling.

Seeing this, Zhou Yi nodded in satisfaction, then turned to Boris, who was still standing in the same spot.

“Good job, buddy.” “Now, tie him up.”

Boris seemed not to understand.

His eyes were unfocused, his legs were swaying, and his body was shaking.

It seemed that the outburst just now had exhausted all its strength.

"me."

He opened his mouth several times, but couldn't remember what to say.

Immediately afterwards, he raised his right hand, paused in mid-air, and stiffly pointed at Zhou Yi's face.

"You have blood."

Zhou Yi tilted his head slightly and wiped his cheekbone.

The bloodstains on the back of his hand had dried and turned dark.

He glanced at it, then smiled. "Thanks for reminding me."

"Now, it's your turn to make your move."

"Stop dawdling."

Boris's throat tightened, as if something was stuck in his trachea, something he couldn't swallow or spit out.

"I"

His gaze fell on the middle-aged man.

The person who was just moments ago high and mighty, ordering him around, mocking him, and ready to abandon him, is now kneeling on the ground, his face swollen and red, his eyes filled with fear.

He suddenly felt acid reflux in his stomach and a buzzing sound in his ears.

He repeated “I” again.

Just a second before Zhou Yi was about to urge him again—

Boris suddenly lunged forward, stumbling and scrambling toward the middle-aged man.

He picked up the blood-stained rope from the ground and began to tie the other person's wrists with his hands and feet.

His movements were clumsy and disorganized, and he almost got himself tangled up more than once.

But he never stopped.

Zhou Yi watched calmly, neither stopping him nor helping him.

He tucked the pistol back into his waistband and lit a cigarette.

A few minutes later, Boris finally completed his task.

The two sat slumped on the ground, facing each other, both looking equally disheveled.

Zhou Yi walked over and checked it over. "Well done."

He then approached the door again and knocked three times.

"Boom, boom, boom."

The sound of the impact was unusually clear in the deathly silence.

The middle-aged man suddenly looked up, staring at him in horror, not understanding what was going to happen.

—"Knock knock".

Zhou Yi spoke.

The middle-aged man remained confused.

--"who?"

"Your men are all dead."

—So the answer is of course—'me'.

Hearing these familiar sentences, Boris turned pale and couldn't manage a smile.

The room fell silent again.

Zhou Yi waited a moment, shrugged, and sighed: "Well, my sense of humor might really be terrible."

"But it's alright, it's nice to meet you, Benjamin."

"Do as I say later, and you won't die, understand?"

Upon seeing that his name had been called, the middle-aged man's lips moved slightly, and he nodded.

"very good."

Zhou Yi smiled slightly, suddenly drew his gun, cocked it with one hand, aimed it at the back of Boris's head, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

"boom."

The body fell onto the carpet.

The scarlet liquid splattered on the middle-aged man's face, startling him so much that he quickly lowered his head.

Zhou Yi ignored him and squatted down. He first checked the fuse box on the side of the vest, and with a gentle tug, the control line he was holding in his palm came off.

The indicator light goes out instantly, indicating that the main circuit has been interrupted.

“Alright,” Zhou Yi stood up, “now we should talk about something serious.”

Do you know Mikhail?

"do not know?"

"It's okay, you'll see him soon."

　Chapter 97 is pinned to the top of the readers' circle; I wonder how long it will stay there.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)