My absurd experiences in North America over the years

In the shadows of a corner of the bar, Li Fu's fingers tightened slightly as he held the wine glass; he was like a silent sculpture.

His gaze was fixed on the vicinity of that private room like that of a hawk.

The whiskey swirled in the glass, and the ice cubes clinked against the sides, masking his heartbeat and breathing.

About fifteen minutes later, a familiar figure appeared; Winslop had arrived.

The once arrogant young man has changed a lot. His eyes are sunken, and his face shows a kind of dejection that should not be seen at his age. He even has stubble on his chin.

His steps were somewhat unsteady, probably a result of the combined effects of long-term anxiety and alcohol.

He paid no attention to his surroundings and went straight into the reserved private room.

About five or six minutes later, another somewhat familiar person appeared. He was a middle-aged man wearing a dark gray fedora with the brim pulled low, covering most of his face.

Li Fu couldn't be sure if the other party was the mysterious broker he had only seen from the side last time.

The middle-aged man was wearing a well-tailored black trench coat, the hem of which wrapped around his body, and the collar turned up, obscuring his neck.

Although his face was not visible, the calmness and composure that emanated from his very being clearly distinguished him from an ordinary person.

Li Fu's pupils contracted slightly; his intuition told him that this person was most likely the target he was looking for.

The middle-aged man didn't linger after entering; instead, he went straight to the private room Winslop had entered.

Li Fu's gaze instantly sharpened.

The bar was dimly lit, and he couldn't see the face clearly, only the outline of the other person.

Winslop came out to greet him.

The two looked at each other, but neither spoke; they simply exchanged glances.

Then, Winslop turned slightly to the side and made a "please" gesture. The middle-aged man took a deep breath and pushed open the hidden door first.

Winslop followed closely behind and disappeared behind the door.

A smile appeared on Li Fu's lips.

This can be confirmed now.

The middle-aged man wearing a hat is the mysterious broker codenamed "God's Chosen".

He did not rush into action, but waited patiently.

About half an hour later, the door to the private room was opened again.

Winslop came out alone, his face looking unwell and his steps more unsteady. He stood at the door for a while, seemingly trying to calm himself down.

Then he turned and headed towards the exit.

Li Fu ignored him; his target was the middle-aged man who was still in the private room.

Two minutes later, the door to the private room was finally pushed open.

The mysterious broker emerged.

He maintained his composure, as if everything that had just happened was just a routine business meeting.

He did not go in the same direction as Winslop.

Instead, they headed towards another exit, which led to the staff passageway to the Blues Cellar.

Li Fu put down his wine glass, pulled his hat brim down, and got up to follow the other person as they turned to walk toward the exit.

However, he did not get too close, but maintained a distance of about thirty meters, using the people coming and going as natural cover.

The mysterious broker made his way to the underground parking garage through an employee passageway known only to staff members.

Li Fu was prepared. He used his familiarity with the terrain to take the safety passage and arrive at the underground parking garage ahead of time.

He hid among the vehicles and observed secretly.

Upon seeing the other person get into a black Maybach, he immediately got into the driver's seat of his Ford Mustang, which was parked there.

This is a car he rented, and then he used a fake license plate.

The Maybach's engine gave a low growl as it slowly drove out of the underground garage.

Li Fu followed silently into the traffic.

The night in Los Angeles was deep, and neon lights cast bizarre reflections on the wet asphalt.

The Maybach drove smoothly ahead, making no attempt to avoid anything, as if it were just an ordinary nighttime drive.

Li Fu did not turn on the headlights, maintaining a distance between the two vehicles by relying on the dim light of the streetlights.

He knew that brokers of this caliber should have a strong sense of counter-surveillance, and following them too closely or tailing them step by step at intersections would be the most foolish thing to do.

There is a traffic light intersection ahead.

The Maybach slowed down and came to a stop.

Li Fu didn't brake. He jerked the steering wheel, and the Mustang roared as it accelerated up from the right-hand overtaking lane.

In the instant they were driving side by side, he turned his head and, even through the tinted windows, he still managed to catch a glimpse of the silhouette in the driver's seat.

The dark gray hat was still on his head, one hand rested on the steering wheel, and the cufflinks peeking out from his wrist gleamed with a cold metallic luster under the streetlights; they were probably a watch.

The target has been confirmed to be correct.

He didn't slow down; the Mustang, like a black lightning bolt, overtook the Maybach.

In the rearview mirror, the Maybach didn't notice anything amiss and maintained its steady speed, as if the overtaking maneuver was just a chance encounter between two passersby.

This is a tracking technique.

Once you're sure the other driver won't turn, overtake them to eliminate the feeling of being followed and make them think you're just a passerby in a hurry.

After passing for about 200 meters, he lightly applied the brakes, reduced the speed, and slowly glided to the side of the road.

Twenty seconds later, the Maybach smoothly drove up from behind, passed through his field of vision, and continued forward.

Li Fu shifted gears again and followed like a ghost once more.

This tactic of following while stopping is suitable for tracking longer stretches of road, ensuring the other party remains unaware of the danger.

The car headed north, passing through the bustling city center, and gradually entered the quiet area of ​​North Los Angeles.

The streets here have become wider, the trees on both sides are denser, and every house has a heavy iron gate and a neatly trimmed hedge.

This is a typical area for the ultra-wealthy.

Since it was inconvenient for Li Fu to go inside, he could only park the car in the shade of an oak tree some distance away and turn off the engine.

Through his night-vision binoculars, he saw the Maybach finally stop in front of a Spanish Revival-style villa located halfway up a hill.

The mysterious broker got out of the car, took off his hat, and casually tidied his hair.

Because it was so dark, he could only see the person's features in a blurry way, but the person's overall figure and walking posture were already deeply imprinted in his mind.

If he's right, the other person is probably also Jewish.

Li Fu put down his binoculars and looked down at the high walls of the villa. It must be heavily guarded inside, making it inconvenient to take action.

"Chosen by God?"

A mocking smirk curled at the corner of his mouth, which inexplicably reminded him of that ridiculous phrase, "the Promised Land."

They think they are superior and regard others as ants.

Then let's go to hell with our ridiculous beliefs!

Tonight, he didn't approach rashly, but instead noted down the address and quietly blended into the Los Angeles night.

Once the other party's identity is confirmed.

He has plenty of ways to kill his opponent silently.

Even the most skilled bodyguards can't stop them from hiring.