Super Detective in the Fictional World

Chapter 957: Loneliness Like Snow, and Messenger

The appearance of the bounty this time was purely unexpected.

Except for on a battlefield, there was basically no other way that a hundred special force soldiers would be deployed to besiege Luke.

He wouldn’t enter a battlefield either.

He didn’t treat killing people like a hobby. It was all about experience and credit.

Even though some of them definitely had experience and credit points, Luke didn’t kill all of them.

He had handled 100 to 200 cases in the past year, for example, and most of the perpetrators had been sent to prison. Most of those who died were gang members who had done a lot of evil.

Even if he could open fire to deal with the rest, like petty thieves and bank robbers, he just subdued them.

The Continental Hotel bounty had been an opportunity.

Actual combat was the only way to test the truth.

Today’s battle had been a test of his speculation.

Without a lot of firepower, ordinary human troops were no longer a threat to him.

That didn’t sound like much since everybody in the military would have heavy firepower.

However, Luke and his various aliases operated in big cities.

It was unlikely that the military would use heavy firepower in such an environment. The consequences would be too severe.

In the city, he was invincible against ordinary people.

He wasn’t surprised at this conclusion. Instead, he felt a little empty.

That “loneliness like snow” phrase was indeed a reflection of his current mood.

From this moment on, a battle with ordinary people would be a simple and predictable act of grinding points, even if the enemy was an elite killer or special force soldier, even if there were hundreds of them.

Unless the opponent was someone with super abilities or had extraordinary equipment like a certain tycoon, they were just moving targets in front of his gun.

As Luke mulled over this, he quickly cleaned up the “garbage” and the crime scene and threw them into a truck in the park.

This was also a prop that he had placed here for the purpose of cleaning up the scene.

He turned around and looked at the park, which was completely silent except for the snow. Pondering for a moment, he chuckled. “I’ll leave you a souvenir!”

Using the truck as cover, he took out a life-sized sculpture from his inventory and placed it on the small peninsula next to the lake.

This was where most of the hitmen had lost their lives tonight, so it was a good place to leave a souvenir.

After setting up the sculpture, Luke swung his knife, and a line of standard English words appeared at the base of the sculpture.

Looking at the sentence that looked like it had been carved out by a machine, Luke nodded in satisfaction and was about to leave, when he suddenly stopped. He swung his knife again and carved a number — 126.

“Now, your memories will be clearer and further.” Luke chuckled and drove the truck out of the park.

Swamp Park fell silent again. Snowflakes fell from the sky and gradually piled up on the unconscious assassin and the black statue.

The snow was getting heavier.

...

In New York’s Continental Hotel, Winston was reading a book leisurely on the couch next to the fireplace.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.

He frowned. “Come in.” When he heard the knock, he knew it was Charon, the manager on duty at reception.

A thin black man entered and walked over to Winston.

He was wearing a neat black suit, and his back was straight. His movements were quick and unhurried, and he looked quite refined.

This was Charon, Winston’s most trusted subordinate.

“Sir, something’s happened,” said Charon in a low voice.

Winston wasn’t worried, but he didn’t waste any time. He slipped the bookmark he was holding into his book before placing the book down on the coffee table and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Charon: “There’s a problem with the order on the smiling man. We’ve just received news that only one of the 127 killers who went to Swamp Park survived.”

Winston paused for a moment before he took off his gold-rimmed glasses. “Exactly what happened?”

As he spoke, several thoughts flashed through his mind.

An ambush by other hitmen? A government operation? Or... had that person come out?

At that 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 to deliver a message. She called the hotel as soon as she woke up, which is how I learned of it,” said Charon.

With a calm expression, Winston slowly stood up and walked over to the fireplace to add two logs to the fire. “What did he say?”

Charon was usually in control of his expressions, but it was clearly stiff this time. “Sir, his exact words?”

Winston watched as the wood that had just been thrown into the fireplace gradually changed color before the flames rose. “Say it.”

Charon said, “His exact words were: Go back and tell the Continental Hotel that this is just a small meeting gift. Since I’m standing in New York, all of you have to kneel. If I sit, all of you have to lie down, just like you right now.”

Charon had confirmed this repeatedly.

He knew that his boss would ask.

The flames in the fireplace danced in Winston’s eyes. The fire burned more aggressively with the new wood.

After a brief silence, he said, “Take good care of the person who’s still alive. Make sure she recalls any useful information.”

Charon: “Yes, sir.”

He waited for a moment, but didn’t hear more. After a brief hesitation, he said, “Sir, that smiling man...”

Winston waved his hand with his back to him. “Ignore him for now. Continue as before.”

Charon opened his mouth, but still said respectfully, “Yes, sir.” He then left the room.

One order had killed 126 hitmen, which was very rare at the Continental Hotel.

Charon had wanted to ask what to do, but he couldn’t guess Winston’s thoughts. However, he believed that the boss had his own plans, and he didn’t need to remind him repeatedly.

Winston stood in front of the fireplace for a long time until he felt a little hot. Only then did he return to the drawing room and take out his phone to dial a number. “Investigate order number 041125. Contract code name: Smiley Face. Include the client and the reason for the contract. Remember, I don’t whatever drivel is floating around on the streets. I want verified firsthand information.”

After getting a reply from the other end, he hung up.

He walked to the window and looked at the first snowfall that was getting heavier and heavier. He had a bad feeling.

This premonition had helped him avoid many crises. He would rather trust in it and spend time and effort to verify its authenticity than chalk it up to an old man’s paranoia.

This world was too dangerous.

The Continental Hotel wasn’t invincible.

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