Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 60 impart
The office is located on the third floor and is decorated in a typical Eastern European style, with solid wood bookcases and black leather sofas.

A group photo hangs on the wall, with Ceaușescu standing in the center.

Mikhail Koman was a middle-aged man in his fifties with graying temples, wearing a well-tailored three-piece suit with the buttons on his cuffs gleaming in the light.

Hearing the noise at the door, he looked up and saw Zhou Yi walk in. He smiled and said, "John, my friend, I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

He immediately stood up, opened his arms, and made an exaggerated welcoming gesture: "You changed your hairstyle? This is not like your style, but I must say, you look much more energetic."

Zhou Yi closed the door behind him and silently observed Coman's expression as he spoke.

No abnormalities have been found so far.

I estimate there shouldn't be any major problems.

Having reached this conclusion, Zhou Yi pulled up a chair and sat down, saying directly, "I'm here to see someone, Koman."

Koman's smile deepened. He picked up his cigar box, took one out, and lit it. "Finding someone? Of course, no problem. I'm always the best at helping my friends find people."

"I'm looking for those three Ukrainian girls from last night."

"My girls?" Coleman leaned back on the sofa and exhaled a puff of smoke. "You've fallen in love with them, haven't you? John Kurt would be ecstatic if he knew."

"Enough talk, Koman, I need to see them now."

Realizing he wasn't joking, Koeman tapped his fingers lightly on the table, as if weighing something.

After a moment, he sighed and shrugged: "I'm sorry, they left Romania early this morning."

"Where have you been?"

Koman gave him a helpless look: "Sorry, buddy, it's industry practice and client privacy, I can't disclose that."

The air fell silent for a moment.

Zhou Yi stared at Coman's face, his fingers itching to move.

If this were in Brazil, I would have shoved a gun into his mouth long ago.

It's a pity, but we still have to be more restrained in the real world.

Zhou Yi lowered his eyelids and said softly, "Mikhail, you'd better reconsider your answer."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, your answer makes me very dissatisfied, and if I'm dissatisfied, the people behind me are probably even more dissatisfied."

Koman paused for a moment: "They're just ordinary models, how could they possibly be associated with DCS[1]?"

Zhou Yi smiled enigmatically: "I never said it was DCS."

Koeman's expression finally changed. After hesitating for a long time, he honestly confessed, "They are in Dubai."

"Dubai?" Zhou Yi was a little surprised this time.

After finishing work in the early hours of the morning, you still have to take a plane during the day to rush to other events?

They're quite busy.

"A Saudi prince is having a party over there, tomorrow."

"I sent a total of thirty-two people."

"You know, I only asked them to make time for you because of our friendship."

Upon hearing this, Zhou Yi immediately summoned the system in his mind.

[World Code: PM-18465]

[Countdown begins: 95:21:04]

There are less than four days left.

It should be done.

"Okay, then get me an invitation."

"So urgent?"

"Of course, work is work."

Koman hesitated for a few seconds, but finally gritted his teeth and nodded, saying, "No problem, but there's one thing, please try not to involve other people."

Zhou Yi nodded in satisfaction, took out a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and got up to leave the room.

"You have my number, call me later." However, as soon as he opened the door, he was bumped right into by a figure coming straight at him.

The other person stumbled, lost their balance, and fell to the ground.

She was a woman with short hair.

Zhou Yi glanced down at her, ignored her, and continued smoking as he walked out.

The woman on the ground opened her mouth, but said nothing. She pushed herself up and got up, her gaze fixed on Zhou Yi's back.

In that instant, she caught a glimpse of the black gun butt hidden in the corner of the coat's hem.

The woman's gaze sharpened slightly as she stared thoughtfully in the direction he had disappeared.

"Katarina, what are you standing at the door for? Come in."

Koeman's voice came from the office.

Katarina took a deep breath and walked in with a natural expression.

In the office, Koman leaned back on the sofa: "Did you see clearly who you bumped into just now?"

"An Asian man who doesn't seem to be a regular customer, but rather someone you know."

Koeman chuckled. "An acquaintance? You could say that. He was introduced by Kurt."

Katarina's heart skipped a beat: "Kurt? That DCS agent? Could he be one too?"

"Who knows who he works for, but anyone who can get out of that line is no ordinary person."

Katarina noticed that Koman was talking a lot today, so she went along with it and asked, "So, what did he want to talk to you about?"

Koman sighed, his tone tinged with helplessness: "He wants to find Anastasia."

"What? Still thinking about her?" Katarina teased.

Koman picked up the cigarette pack on the table, took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth: "Who knows? His reason was far-fetched, and I didn't ask him for details."

"Then how did you answer him?"

"What else can we say? Tell them they've already gone to Dubai on a private jet."

Dubai? Who invited you?

Koman exhaled a puff of smoke, seemingly unconcerned by her reaction: "You don't even know this? They're from Saudi Arabia, their names are ridiculously long, it's that time of year again for their annual gathering."

"I'm just surprised they chose this time."

Koman smirked, half-jokingly. "If they want to go ahead, who can stop them? You know how these parties are, they're getting more and more creative with the games."

Katarina suppressed her excitement, but still casually agreed with him.

Interpol has been following this lead for a long time, but has made little progress.

Unexpectedly, she found a breakthrough today.

I estimate I can make a lot of money from this news.

At this moment, Koeman suddenly narrowed his eyes slightly and looked directly at her: "What? You're interested too?"

“That does sound interesting. I didn’t expect you to still be in contact with them,” Katarina replied noncommittally.

“That’s how business is these days. Whoever can afford it is God,” Coman chuckled and continued, “But if you’re interested in taking a look, I can arrange it for you.”

Katarina raised an eyebrow and said with a smile, "Are you showing off your connections?"

"Don't get me wrong, I mean, if you're really interested, I can get you an invitation."

Koeman's words carried a hint of sarcasm, "After all, there aren't only women's services over there, there are also options suitable for you—"

Katarina raised her finger and shook it: "Forget it, I'm not interested in those kinds of occasions."

"Whatever." Coman shrugged, quickly ending the conversation: "Alright, let's not talk about this. What did you come to see me about?"

Katarina regained her composure: "Someone wants to buy some goods recently, can you arrange that?"

"of course."

　[1]Defense Clandestine Service, a branch of the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA)

　　
　
(End of this chapter)