You're a US police officer, what are you thinking about going back to the East for?

The fourth floor of the unfinished building, behind the dark load-bearing columns.

A night breeze blew through the tattered dustproof netting.

The observer ghost, who had been crouching by the window frame like a lifeless stone, suddenly leaned forward slightly.

The four-eyed night vision goggles on his face emitted a faint green light. In the thermal imaging field of view, a dozen or so glaring red humanoid heat sources suddenly appeared across the originally cold and dark street.

Instead of taking the main road, these heat sources lined up along the walls and around cars, forming a tactical encirclement formation that silently blocked all the first-floor exits of this unfinished building.

Ghost's finger rested on the trigger of the MP7 submachine gun.

"A discovery has been made."

He spoke, a rare occurrence for him, his voice hoarse: "People are gathering around."

K, who was leaning against a pillar with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them.

He grabbed the already assembled TAC-50 sniper rifle beside him, ripped off the lens cap, propped up the heavy barrel, and pressed his eyes firmly against the high-powered scope, scanning in the direction the ghost was pointing.

By the faint reflection of the streetlights at the street corner, K could clearly see several burly men wearing bulletproof vests and carrying assault rifles crouching in the shadows of the alley.

"Holy crap, they really came!"

K's pupils contracted sharply, and he muttered a curse in a low voice.

He turned his head sharply, his eyes piercing like knives as he stared at the wrench sitting on the ground.

"What do we do now? You're a fucking idiot!"

K growled through gritted teeth:

"Didn't you say you were invincible at counter-surveillance?! Didn't you say you'd washed your tails clean?"

"Did these dozen or so fully armed guys just pop out of nowhere? You managed to drag them all back to your hideout!"

Wrench was completely startled. He grabbed the rifle next to him and scrambled to the window to look down.

"Holy crap, this can't be! This shouldn't be happening!"

Looking at the tight encirclement below, cold sweat poured down his forehead. His face was filled with disbelief as he desperately tried to explain himself:

"My movements were absolutely flawless! I navigated three dead ends, avoided all sorts of blind spots, changed clothes, and even walked a long way through that stinking sewer!"

"We didn't even see a ghost behind us, how did they follow us?"

"Does he have wings and fly around with me? That's totally illogical!"

"Who the hell cares if it's the sewer or the mains! We're already downstairs!"

K impatiently interrupted him, slammed the safety off the sniper rifle, plopped back down on the sleeping mat, and adopted a posture of complete resignation.

"Alright, the guys have surrounded the building. Judging from their tactics, they're all tough nut to crack. Now, everyone, just wash your necks, sit here, and wait to die."

The voice just fell.

"Click".

A crisp click of a bullet being chambered echoed in the darkness.

The ghost stopped looking down and immediately turned its gun around.

The MP7 submachine gun, fitted with a silencer, had its dark muzzle pressed directly against K's forehead.

"If you want to die, then die on your own."

The ghost's voice was flat and monotone, yet it carried a chilling killing intent.

"I can't die."

Looking at the dark muzzle of the gun in Ghost's hand, and that cold attitude that was anything but a joke, K's Adam's apple bobbed, and his previously volatile temper instantly subsided.

They were all mercenaries who lived on the edge, so he knew very well what Ghost's situation was.

This guy has a sister who is seriously ill, and he's spending money every day; it's a bottomless pit that can never be filled.

He didn't know if the disease was truly incurable or if the hospital simply refused to cure it. His sister was being kept sucking the ghost's blood, and in any case, the disease was still not cured.

Aside from taking on high-risk murder jobs on the dark web, Ghost had no other legitimate way to earn those astronomical medical bills.

In his opinion, Ghost was the most abnormal lunatic in the team, and K really didn't dare to provoke him at this time.

This person would actually shoot and kill his teammates at any time for money.

"Okay, okay, you can't die, your life is precious."

K slowly raised his hands, finding a way to back down, following the ghost's words:

"I was just complaining a bit. I know you need this money to save your life, and I don't want to take you with me."

After compromising with Ghost, K immediately turned the conversation to Wrench, who was still in a daze, and vented all his pent-up anger:

"It's all that good-for-nothing's fault!"

K lowered his voice, pointed at the wrench's nose, and began to curse:

"Ghost, look at him!"

"After retiring from the military overseas and returning to the United States, he realized he was utterly useless in this society. Aside from working as a lowly security guard at a supermarket for fifteen dollars an hour, he couldn't do anything else!"

"Just because he felt he'd rot away at home and his life was too boring, he insisted on dragging us into a team to take on orders and look for excitement!"

"Now look what's happened! They've cornered us in the building. How are we supposed to escape from under their noses?"