Checking into the hotel went surprisingly smoothly. Same as before, Schiller really was very good at this sort of thing. When the front desk staff first saw them come in, they were a little nervous; after all, Deathstroke's getup was hard to call that of a good person, and Schiller's demeanor was even more suspicious.
But Schiller fixed his eyes at once on the hand they were moving toward the alarm button. The other party realized they had been discovered, and because they were afraid of catching a bullet, they did not dare make any rash moves. All they could do was greet them with smiles. When Schiller slapped his credentials down on the front desk, they had no choice left.
"Aren't you afraid someone will come after you?" Deathstroke asked as they got into the elevator.
"They already have." No sooner had Schiller finished speaking than the elevator gave a violent jolt. Then a hotel staff member's voice came over the speaker:
"Sorry, sir, there's a minor fault with the elevator. Please wait inside for a moment. The repairman will be there right away."
Deathstroke had already heard something wrong. Though it sounded like a hotel employee, the tone trembled slightly, as if the person might have been held hostage. Schiller took a step forward and stood at the elevator entrance.
The elevator jolted again. Schiller seemed to be calculating something, then took a few steps back and stood at the very rear of the elevator. Holding his gun in both hands, he slowly raised his arms and aimed at the upper half of the elevator doors.
After a while, the elevator doors slowly opened, only to about the width of a small fist. Schiller fired with a bang. A scream came from outside the doors, and a figure