A Wave of Operations Fiercer Than a Tiger

The Continental Hotel on Pearl Street.

As Lake walked into The Continental Hotel, he immediately felt that the atmosphere tonight was different from yesterday. Yesterday, the hotel lobby had only a few people, but today it felt somewhat crowded.

The Textile Factory is gone.

The time for The Continental Hotel to expel Carlos and issue a bounty is also approaching. It is estimated that at this very moment, the bounty on Carlos is already in process.

He took the elevator to the bar.

Whoa!

Lake raised an eyebrow, surprised by the crowded bar, and then sat down opposite Carlos, who was the only one sitting there.

With a swish.

Lake could clearly feel a series of gazes falling upon him.

Lake chuckled, turned, and gave the many assassins in the bar who were looking at him intentionally or unintentionally the middle finger.

This was a provocation.

Undoubtedly.

But the many assassins acted as if they didn't see it, merely shifting their gaze from Lake back to Carlos, who was sitting opposite him, downing drink after drink as if he wanted to get himself drunk.

Lake also withdrew his gaze and looked at Carlos, "How is it, are you satisfied with my work?"

Carlos looked up, speaking as few words as possible, "Aren't you afraid that if this matter is exposed, you'll be hunted by The Continental Hotel?"

Lake shrugged, "Would you say anything?"

Collusion between assassins and law enforcement is a serious crime.

After all, one is in the dark, and the other is in the light. Darkness and light are like fire and water, difficult to mix. Moreover, no one wants to see fire and water mixed together.

Unfortunately...

I am the embodiment of both darkness and light.

Besides.

Even if The Continental Hotel investigates the NYPD, they will only find that Carlos used the NYPD's power to eliminate The Assistance, as Carlos's confession is being used as evidence.

Carlos could actually say that Lake did it, and then use the information about Lake tipping off the NYPD to exchange for a different punishment from The Continental Hotel, meaning expulsion instead of a bounty.

Carlos could choose, but he couldn't.

His son, Wesley, was still being held at the NYPD. Before he could figure out Lake's relationship with the NYPD, Carlos wouldn't do that.

"Account."

"Here!"

"..."

As soon as Carlos spoke, a bank account registered overseas was pushed in front of him. He looked up and saw Lake smiling, "You don't seem worried that I'll go back on my word."

Lake's tone was relaxed, "No, your worries and fears are not something I worry about or fear."

So what if he was hunted by The Continental Hotel?

Put on some glasses.

Even if Lake stood in the lobby of The Continental Hotel, face to face, others would still think he was just a newbie who had just entered the assassin world.

Moreover...

No matter how the process went, by going all out against The Continental Hotel, Lake was confident that The Continental Hotel would be the one to close its doors in the end.

Therefore, the things Carlos worried and feared about were not something Lake cared about at all.

Soon.

"Transferred."

After Carlos transferred his savings to the bank account provided by Lake, he looked at Lake, "You can confirm it."

Lake didn't speak, nor did he take out his phone. As an assassin, he didn't have a phone.

But Lake had a special way of checking accounts.

Cheat system, top-up, overseas bank account 602—005-24-678!

With a thought.

Ding dong!

[Top-up successful]

[Fifty-nine thousand seven hundred US dollars!]

"..."

Lake raised an eyebrow and looked at Carlos, "Just this much?"

What the heck.

It's one thing if I'm broke, but you're one of the top ten assassins in the assassin world, and you only have this much? You must be fooling me.

Carlos, though somewhat suspicious how Lake knew the numbers, still shook his head and asked, "If you knew that no matter what, you were going to die, would you still keep your savings?"

Lake opened his mouth.

This reasoning was absolutely flawless. I knew that no matter how I struggled, I was still going to die, so why keep the money? Of course, I'd spend it on good food, good drink, and good times.

So…

After Carlos defected from The Assistance for his beliefs, he came to The Continental Hotel every night for the full service. Not only his savings, but even his gold coins were pitifully few.

Carlos took out the last dozen or so gold coins from his pocket and pushed them towards Lake. "This is all I have. I probably won't need it soon anyway."

Lake looked at the gold coins in front of him and thought about the transfer of less than sixty thousand US dollars in his account.

His heart…

So I worked this hard for so long, and I don't even have enough for a single lottery draw?

Lake took a deep breath and looked at Carlos, unwilling to give up. "Didn't you think about leaving some money for so-and-so? From what I hear, that person's living conditions aren't great."

Not just "not great," it was downright heartbreaking.

He lived in a cheap apartment under the subway, his girlfriend was cheating on him, and the most tragic thing was that he knew about it but chose to remain indifferent.

Lake didn't know why Wesley made that choice, but Lake felt that if he were Wesley, with his girlfriend cheating on him, he'd drag those two down with him even if he died.

The betrayal of a cuckold is an irreconcilable hatred.

There was no room for negotiation.

Carlos shook his head. "He has his own life."

Lake had nothing more to say.

Having such a father, Lake felt sorry for Wesley. He had the opportunity to become a rich second-generation heir, but because of his father, he ended up in his current state.

If only Carlos and Wesley weren't Americans but from China.

At the very least, if they were Chinese, Lake was sure Carlos would have left his son a substantial sum of money for his living expenses, not too much, but not too little either.

Unfortunately…

The differences in Eastern and Western education led to differences in philosophy.

Lake sighed. "Forget it. Anyway, there should be a two-million bounty to contend for later. What do you think?"

He had originally thought that after this operation, he would have at least over five million in earnings.

But the result…

First round, he showed off too much and killed Sloan without even getting the password.

Second round, he didn't consider the differences in Eastern and Western education, which led to earnings far below his expectations, a world of difference.

But the third round should at least guarantee earnings of two million, right?

That's good.

At least it wasn't a situation where he worked hard like a tiger only to get a meager result.

Lake thought to himself, he couldn't have all his efforts amount to less than one lottery draw.

Carlos nodded.

Since he was going to die anyway, dying at the hands of others or at Lake's hands made no difference. So, rather than dying for nothing, it was better to do Lake a favor. At least, in Lake, Carlos saw the word "credit."

However…

Carlos's gaze swept across the many assassins in the bar. "I'd like to give it to you, but can you snatch it from them?"

Lake's lips curved upwards, and he followed Carlos's gaze.

What he saw.

People of various skin colors, but all with eyes that seemed intent on devouring him.

Lake said softly, "A bunch of country bumpkins. Whoever dares to snatch it, I'll kill them!"