The appearance of the bounty this time was purely an accident.
In a situation like this, it was almost impossible to mobilize more than a hundred special forces soldiers to encircle Luke except on the battlefield.
He wouldn't enter a battlefield either.
He had no interest in killing people; it was all for experience and credit points.
Even if some people would definitely have experience and credit points to gain, he didn't intend to kill them all.
Of the two hundred cases he had handled in the past year, most of the people he had sent to prison, and most of the people who died were gang members who had done all sorts of evil.
Even if he could shoot the other petty thefts, bank robberies, and gun threats, he would only be able to subdue the other party.
The bounty at the Continental Hotel gave him an opportunity.
Actual combat was the only way to test the truth.
Today's actual combat had tested his theory.
Without a lot of heavy firepower, ordinary human troops were no longer a threat to him.
That didn't sound like a big deal. Every army had heavy firepower.
However, Luke and his other aliases were all active in major cities.
In such an environment, it was unlikely that the army would use heavy firepower, or the consequences would be too severe.
In the city, he was invincible against ordinary people.
He wasn't pleasantly surprised by this conclusion; instead, he felt a little empty.
The phrase "lonely as snow" was indeed a true portrayal of his current mood.
From this moment on, fighting ordinary people would become a simple and unsuspenseful act of grinding points, even if the opponent was an elite hitman or a special force soldier, and even if there were hundreds of them.
Unless the opponent was a superhuman, or had extraordinary equipment and weapons like a certain tycoon, they were just moving targets under his gun.
As he thought that, he quickly cleaned up all the "trash" and the scene, and threw them into a truck that had been parked in the park's parking lot.
This was also a prop that he had left here in advance, specifically for cleaning up the place.
Turning his head to look at the dead silence in the park, he pondered for a moment, then chuckled. "I'll leave you guys a souvenir!"
As he spoke, he took out a life-sized sculpture from his inventory under the cover of the truck and placed it on a small peninsula by the lake.
Most of the hitmen tonight had died here. It was a good place to leave a souvenir.
After setting up the statue, Luke waved his knife, and a line of standard English words appeared on the base of the statue.
Glancing at the sentence that looked as if it had been carved by a machine, he nodded in satisfaction. He turned around and was about to leave when he suddenly stopped. He waved the knife again and carved a number under the message — 126.
"Your memories should be clearer now." Luke chuckled. He got into the truck and soon disappeared from the park.
Swamp Park fell into silence once again. Only the falling snowflakes gradually piled up on the unconscious assassin and the black statue.
The snow was getting heavier.
…
In the Continental Hotel in New York, Winston was sitting on a sofa by the fireplace with a book in his hand, reading idly.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
He frowned. "Come in." Just by hearing the knock, he knew it was the manager on duty, Charon.
A Negro with a thin face came through the door and approached Winston.
He was dressed in a neat black suit, and his back was straight. His movements were quick but not impatient, and he even appeared quite gentle, which was completely different from the unrestrained and natural style of most African Americans.
This was Charon, who was also Winston's most trusted subordinate.
"Sir, something happened," Charon said softly as he lowered his body slightly.
Winston wasn't in a hurry, but he didn't delay either. He put a bookmark on the book in his hand, closed it, and placed it on the coffee table next to him. "What is it?"
Charon said, "There's a problem with the smiling man's order. News just came. Only one of the 127 hitmen who went to Swamp Park survived. "
Winston's breathing paused for a moment, and he took off his gold-rimmed glasses. "What exactly happened?"
As he spoke, several thoughts floated through his mind.
An ambush? An official intervention? Or … that person had come out of hiding?
Thinking of the last thought, he couldn't help but shake his head. That was impossible. That person had gone through so much to leave this circle just for a precious love. How could he come back?
"The person who survived was deliberately sent back by the smiling man. She called the hotel as soon as she woke up, and that's how I found out," Charon said.
Winston's expression was calm as he slowly stood up. He took two steps and stood in front of the fireplace, adding two more logs to the fireplace. "What did he say?"
Charon's racial talent prevented his expression from deepening further, but his expression was even more stiff. "Sir, did he say exactly what he said?"
Winston watched as the wood that had just been thrown into the fireplace gradually changed color and ignited. "Speak."
Charon said, "His exact words were — go back and tell the Continental Hotel that this is just a small greeting gift. Since I'm in New York, I'll stand, and you'll have to kneel. I'll sit, and you'll have to lie down, just like you are now. "
He had confirmed this repeatedly.
He knew that his boss would ask.
In Winston's eyes, the fire in the fireplace was dancing, and the new wood made it even more lively.
After a moment of silence, he said, "Take good care of the person who's still alive. Make sure she remembers all the useful information."
Charon said, "Yes, sir."
After waiting for a moment, he didn't hear anything else. After a moment of hesitation, he said, "Sir, that smiling man …"
Winston waved his hand with his back to him. "Ignore him for now. Continue as usual."
Charon opened his mouth, but in the end, he said respectfully, "Yes, sir." He then left the room.
126 hitmen had died for one order. This was an extremely rare situation for the Continental Hotel.
Charon had wanted to ask what to do, but he couldn't guess many of Winston's thoughts. However, he believed that the boss had his own plans and didn't need to be reminded repeatedly.
Winston stood in front of the fireplace for a long time until he felt a little hot. He walked back to the living room and took out his phone to dial a number. "Investigate the order. Number 041125. The contract code name is the smiling man. Include the payer and the reason for the contract. Remember, I don't want goods that can be bought from the streets. I want firsthand information. "
Hearing the other end of the line, he hung up.
He walked to the window and looked at the first snowfall that was getting heavier and heavier. A bad feeling flashed through his heart.
This kind of premonition had helped him avoid many crises. He would rather believe it and spend time and effort to verify whether it was true than classify it as the paranoia of an old man.
This world was too dangerous.
The Continental Hotel wasn't invincible.
…
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