Now This Is Fishing

The method for controlling Ian Crook is, frankly speaking, nothing particularly surprising.

Kang De injected the Paradox Element into the white man's body through a stream of water, causing his body to be explosively strengthened, making Ian's physique unlike that of ordinary people.

For some reason, after Kang De took over the Paradox Engine, he gained absolute authority and dominion over the Paradox Element or their Paradox Element entities, and could force the infected entities to disobey their will and obey.

However, this ability is not as useful as imagined. At least it cannot make the infected feel at ease. It can only issue some simple commands. For example, Ian was just a weak white man sitting in an office. Even if Kang De ordered him to "become Rambo," he would never be able to do it.

Therefore, Kang De commanded: Do not move, do not resist, relax.

Ian was thus completely stripped of control over his body and could only watch helplessly.

Meanwhile, Horus's split control structure had slid into Ian's clothes, enveloping and controlling his joints. Coupled with Kang De's order to "act in accordance with external forces," the Paradox Element would respond perfectly to Horus's split auxiliary device.

This is how John Wick came to be.

So, what appears to be Ian Crook escaping from the water room is actually just a simple exoskeleton powered by Ian Crook that ran out.

Even Ian himself was unaware of this, because he had been deprived of most of his sense of touch. He was unaware that there were cold, powerful mechanical devices controlling his body throughout. He could not perceive them; he only knew that after hearing that sound, his body began to move uncontrollably.

It's like... being possessed by a demon.

The people inside the Military Intelligence Section 5 building would have no idea.

Ian stripped the suit jacket off the agent outside, put it on, and then advanced with his gun held in a central locking firing stance, water droplets dripping from his hair and wetting the shoulders of his suit.

All of this had nothing to do with the body's owner; he was simply a helpless bystander, watching this incredibly realistic first-person shooter game as he rapidly ascended the stairs.

He heard the devil's evil whispers in his ear.

"Let's play."

Ian leaped and ran across the fire escape stairwell at speeds surpassing those of professional athletes.

Keep moving upwards.

At the same time, a terrifying voice echoed in his mind.

"David, your old boss, that geezer," the devil whispered, "What floor is his office on? Where is his office? Let's go find him."

Ian was startled, then he realized he could communicate with the voice. He responded loudly in his mind, "What are you doing? Damn it! What are you going to do with my body?"

"Revenge, I love revenge." The voice chuckled softly, "Don't you like it?"

Ian instinctively refused, "No! You can't!"

"No? Then what should we do? You're finished. You'll be the scapegoat, the target of that accident's revenge. If I hadn't saved you, you'd be dead. You heard it too. Your wife and daughters won't escape either. Think about those women you found in North London, their experiences, their fates—they'll all be repeated on your wife and even your daughters... In the future, if you want to sleep with your wife, you might have to pay."

Ian roared, "Shut up!"

The next moment, he heard the demon give a soft hum, which then transformed into thunder, reverberating within his soul and causing him intense tearing pain.

"You incompetent, filthy scum, I'll forgive your rudeness one last time. You'd better choose your anger wisely and understand the situation. I can save you from this predicament, or I can make your death far more painful than it was originally intended, including your wife and daughters—it all depends on my mood."

A powerful and terrifying aura swept over Ian, as if the entire soul world was echoing with angry roars. The dragon's Dragon Might from the otherworldly dragon, even if only a little was leaked through the Dragon Oath, was unbearable for mortals. In that instant, Ian was filled with fear and despair.

He escaped from a deadly situation, only to fall into the clutches of a demon.

He asked weakly, "Who are you? What do you want to do to me?"

"That's unimportant," the demon chuckled coldly, "And none of your business—tell me, which floor is he on?"

The voice seemed to contain immense power and authority, causing him to submit involuntarily.

"The... ninth floor."

"Clever."

In the deputy director's office, an elderly gentleman, dressed in a different outfit and with his hair washed, stood with a gloomy expression in front of the office window, gazing at the Palm Tree Roundabout and the River Thames.

"Yes, sir, we are investigating, and we take this very seriously."

"I'm sorry, sir, but we have an inescapable responsibility. We are urgently investigating the loyalty of MI5 members. We are deeply shocked by Agent Richard's defection, and we are trying to find his accomplices."

"No, it couldn't be the Irish Republican Army, I assure you... Yes, sir, I'm sorry, we will try our best to make amends, we will find the person who orchestrated all this as quickly as possible, whether they are Scotland, Ireland, Pakistan, Iran, France, or China."

An angry roar came through the phone, "Fuck you China! You pay thieves only know how to make up ghost stories from China to scam funding, and now you're trying to fool me with that same trick? Why don't you tell me that the China are listening in on our conversations right now? Huh?"

"Do you think I'm as stupid as Trump?! Do you really think I don't know how much of the hundreds of millions of pounds allocated to you each year is used to buy toilet paper that costs hundreds of pounds a roll?!"

David listened meekly to the roars coming from Downing Street.

"In short! You know the consequences if those videos fall into the hands of the Irish Republican Army! Even if they fall into the hands of other hostile countries, it's unacceptable! Get all your spies to work right now! Get them listening! Get them searching! I demand that you maintain the stability of the current situation at all costs!"

"No more accidents are allowed!"

"Oh my god, unbelievable! What a fucking stupid intelligence chief I appointed! Your cremation team dared to drive into the city center and even overturned their vehicle in the River Thames! Why didn't you just dump those piles of meat in front of my house! The Queen's driving skills are better than your idiot drivers!"

Once the boss's anger subsided, David stood at attention and said, "Sir, I assure you! There will be absolutely no mishaps! We will control the situation and manage everything!"

"That had better be! Otherwise, before you step down, I'll drown you in the River Thames!"

David put down his phone, paused for a moment, and then cursed, "That damn golden retriever!"

Emotional venting wouldn't solve the problem. David took a deep breath, calming his anxiety. He had to find out the truth as soon as possible and figure out if Richard had accomplices.

Because Ian confessed everything within minutes of being tortured.

This idiot subtly mentioned the Round Table and the habits of the mentally unstable dogs it keeps. These veiled words will be amplified infinitely by conspiracy theorists, so Ian must not be given the opportunity to appear in court. In addition, all channels and suspicious persons must be closely monitored.

Relax, relax, stay calm.

David tried to convince himself.

Only a liar and dissolute man would be so anxious. In fact, there is nothing to be afraid of. Whichever organization obtains this video and wants to use it to attack England or achieve some other purpose, the first thing they need to do is make it public. And how can they make it public? Only through the media.

Whether it's social media or traditional media, the power of discourse is in our hands... so there's no need to worry. Moreover, concealing the traces of the extraordinary is a consensus among the permanent members of the Security Council. Anyone who dares to lift the lid on this to the public, whether an individual or an organization, will face joint strangulation and suppression from the five most powerful international powers on the planet—so there's nothing to be afraid of.

It was just an idiot who accidentally messed things up.

At this thought, a sinister glint flashed in David's eyes. He picked up the landline receiver, dialed the number, and wanted to ask that idiot Ian if he had revealed any new information, and perhaps give him a new trick.

He had already decided that he would treat this fool to a traditional skill that Military Intelligence Section 5 had abandoned: the car press.

The perpetrator would stuff fragile items like light bulbs into the victim's genitals—in front for women and in back for men—before delivering a heavy punch to the abdomen. The scene was quite gruesome.

This form of torture was abolished not because it was too cruel, but because it had been used in the past and gone wrong, causing serious consequences. This dates back to the Suez Canal Crisis of the 1950s and 60s, when Military Intelligence Section 5 Middle East Department was interrogating someone for intelligence. A reckless idiot shoved a light bulb into the victim's mouth, punched him, and the mouth was completely ruptured, rendering him unable to speak. This directly led to the United Kingdom missing crucial intelligence, ultimately resulting in a geopolitical setback.

As a result, the old colonial system, represented by Britain and France, began to disintegrate as a result of this event, and the brilliance of the British Empire, after the turmoil of World War II, finally began to fade and decline irrevocably.

The loss of a horseshoe nail led to the loss of an empire—that's a damn United Kingdom tradition.

Incidentally, a similar serious violation by the Canada Royal Mounted Police involved the administration of ice during interrogations, which directly led to the death of the interrogated person. This, combined with the repeated massacres of civilians by the US military, the prisoner abuse incidents in Australia, and the conduct of the Five Eyes Alliance, is all consistent with the same pattern.

As the leader of Military Intelligence Section 5, David was well aware of this anecdote, but it was quite fitting to use this humiliating punishment, which was explicitly forbidden, on an insider who had ruined things.

He deserves it.

The deputy director's expression was grim; he was about to give the order.

But the next moment...

The piercing alarm blared, shaking the entire building.

The door was flung open, and the secretary, pale-faced, cried out, "Sir, there's been a shooting!"

The roar grew louder as it approached.

"David!" The voice was as piercing as a demon's, "David!"

The old gentleman's expression changed drastically. "Ian!"

He took a pistol from the drawer, expertly checked and released the safety. "What's going on!"

The secretary said urgently, "He killed the interrogator and rushed up the fire escape!"

How could that be?

"Yes, sir!"

Gunshots rang out in succession, accompanied by terrified screams and the sounds of people fleeing. This was indeed Military Intelligence Section 5, one of the three branches of the United Kingdom intelligence. The headquarters building housed hundreds of staff members, but none of them were the suave and skilled agents portrayed in the movies.

The fictional life of a secret agent is like what's portrayed on the screen: driving luxury cars, chasing women, and engaging in fierce gunfights with terrorists. But the real work of a secret agent is to tediously and mechanically search for and analyze clues from piles of documents, information, and records, to the point that Military Intelligence Section 5 has posted recruitment information online.

The vast majority of employees here are no different from those in commercial companies.

Upon hearing the gunshot, they all screamed in terror; this was not part of their job.

The headquarters of Military Intelligence Section 5 was attacked by gunfire.

"Highest alert level!"

"All staff in the hallway, immediately move to the nearest room!"

"Lock the doors! They're bulletproof!"

"Security forces have been deployed!"

"Keep going! Stay calm!"

The broadcast system carried the calm orders from the branch manager in charge of security. As employees of an intelligence organization, they still possessed basic psychological qualities and the ability to act. They hurriedly followed the instructions, but safety belonged only to those on other floors, because the intruder had already reached the ninth floor.

"David!"

He roared, "Come out! You hypocritical executioner! You cruel bastard!"

Ian, covered in blood, appeared in the sight of the employees who hadn't had time to escape. They all recognized the disheveled man. Everyone knew what had happened at Palace of Westminster, and everyone knew he had messed up. And now he was here with a pistol, shouting the deputy chief's name.

Several security personnel drew their guns, but Ian reacted with lightning speed, striking three men in the wrist, abdomen, and collarbone. This wasn't a movie or a game; the low power of a handgun meant it might not kill, but a single shot was enough to incapacitate a well-trained soldier.

"David!"

Ian roared, "Come out! Be a man and face me!"

"No one move! Hands over your heads! Lie down! This is a personal matter!" The people obediently lay down, listening to Ian Crook's desperate and painful roar, and then they heard a familiar voice, the voice of Deputy Director David, coming from the recording.

"... Including your family, they will no longer enjoy the rights that the families of Military Intelligence Section 5 members have—no one will protect them anymore, and those people will know where they are... This is what you deserve."

The voice was sinister and ruthless, and its contents sent chills down one's spine.

Ian shouted, "I did something wrong, and I'm willing to be punished, but why involve my family? They're innocent! David! Come out!"

The man held a recording device and a gun, his voice filled with grief and rage. Many people secretly looked up to examine the crazed man. He had signs of torture on his body, his hair was wet, his eyes were filled with tears, and his expression was one of grief and indignation. This heroic demeanor at the end of his road aroused people's sympathy.

And a subtle feeling towards the deputy director...

It brought misfortune to his family.

It also carries a certain sexual connotation.

This...

Ian was still roaring as he strode toward David's office, "Old man, come out here like a man! Don't hide in your office while your colleagues face guns outside! Come on, you coward!"

He walked in step by step, and after a long while, David's voice came from behind the door. "This is not a wise choice, Ian. I suggest you put down your gun—I will withdraw my threats against your family; they were just to scare you. How about we take legal action?"

Ian sneered, "Teacher, now, I am your law."

David shouted, "Ian, we have to talk."

"Talk? You want to kill me to silence me, you want to hunt down my family, how can we talk?" Ian said coldly, "Anyway, I'm not going to live, so don't expect to get away with it either. I will expose all the information I have and all your shameful deeds to the public!"

"Don't be impulsive, Ian. This won't do your family any good—we shouldn't take this path of mutual destruction. I have a suggestion, and I suggest you listen to it before choosing whether to kill me or not."

"--Don't believe him! There's something fishy going on!" Ian's warning echoed in his mind, but the demon controlling his body and displaying astonishing acting skills remained unmoved and stopped in its tracks.

What suggestion?

"The proposal is..." David paused, then said coldly, "Go to hell!"

The office door was kicked open with a bang, and several SWAT officers in bulletproof vests and holding shields rushed out. They were Military Intelligence Section 5 security forces. They went directly to David's office from the secret elevator. The agents, protected by the shield bearers, raised their shotguns and aimed them at Ian Crook's torso!

David, hiding in the inner room with the door closed, watched the scene on the monitor and sneered.

Although I don't know how he escaped from the washroom... but at less than five meters away, a direct shotgun blast meant that bastard was doomed.

A deafening roar followed by a blinding flash of light as the agent pulled the trigger.

David squinted, preparing to enjoy the spectacular sight of Ian's upper body being blasted into a bloody mess.

But the next moment, his eyes widened.

Black Flame suddenly erupted from the opponent's body, roaring and burning, and fiercely condensed in front of him. The projectiles that were fired seemed to be completely melted away. Ian pushed his hand, and the wall of fire rebounded, engulfing the security agents. Intense screams rang out!

What's this!?

David suddenly stood up, his mind blank. He was stunned by what he saw and didn't know what was going on—how could this be!

A commotion arose at the end of the corridor as a large number of combat personnel approached. Ian rushed into the office, but the room was already locked, with metal barriers lowered. Through the camera, David saw the unfamiliar Ian Crook look up and give him a cold smile.

"It's not over yet, David."

Then he leaped and crashed into the huge floor-to-ceiling window.

With a crack, the glass shattered. Before the riot police arrived, Ian leaped from the ninth floor, his body wreathed in black Flame. He landed with a thud, the black fire spreading and the ground cracking. The impact from the ninth floor left him unharmed. David, who witnessed this, was utterly stunned!

The old gentleman watched as Ian stole a car that was about to go out on business, grabbed the driver and threw him more than ten meters away, then stepped on the gas, broke through the gate, shot down the guards who tried to stop him with two shots, rushed onto the road, and sped off south!

Having witnessed all of this, David swayed and collapsed weakly into his chair.

He dialed his cell phone, his hands trembling.

Having lived for fifty-eight years and been in the industry for forty-one, he felt a fear that penetrated to the bone for the first time.

The unknown is what we fear.

He didn't know what Ian, fueled by boundless rage and utter despair, and possessing numerous secrets, would do after breaking out of Military Intelligence Section 5.

But he knew he had to do something.

Otherwise, it wouldn't be as simple as the Prime Minister personally drowning him in the River Thames.

A cold voice came from the other end of the phone. "Who is it?"

"Ian Crook," David said with difficulty, "Has become just like you."

On the road, Ian stepped on the gas and sped off, overtaking one car after another. The faint sound of sirens could be heard behind him. But the driver wasn't the real Ian; Ian Crook was just passively watching it all unfold, watching himself kill the executioner, rush up to the ninth floor of Military Intelligence Section 5, shoot the agents, wreak havoc at headquarters, and then hijack the car and leave. He went from unease to fear, from fear to numbness.

"We can't make such a fuss!" he said. "We'll be surrounded by the whole of London soon!"

The demon's voice was filled with delight. "Such a good thing? This must be seven stars, right?"

Ian yelled furiously, "Damn it! What are you trying to do?"

"You are filled with resentment. You have been persecuted and humiliated by those damned bureaucrats and cold-blooded superiors, and even your family has been implicated. Despair and anger have taken over your mind. You vow to take revenge on everything and make the corrupt British government pay for it. How to attract the world's attention? Of course, by creating a huge news story, such as kidnapping enough people to force all the media to focus on it."

"Then announce the truth to the world."

The devil chuckled and said, "So, let's find a popular tourist spot and pull off a big heist, kidnap enough people, issue a desperate ultimatum, and thwart all government efforts and actions."

Ian's scalp tingled with fear, because to everyone else, it looked like he had done it all! Unable to resist, and with his demands ignored, he was utterly desperate. "Why did you do this?"

The demon actually replied, "Of course, it's about making them helpless against you, yet raging in vain."

"What good will it do for us?" Ian asked desperately.

"It has its advantages—only in this way will they realize something."

"What is it?"

Kang De's voice was calm and composed.

Only those who are extraordinary... can defeat those who are extraordinary!

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PS1: Update... The United States election results are coming out soon! Let's watch the show.