Handling Instructions
Next time, the 9mm Luger bullet from the MP5 Submachine Gun would bore a fatal hole through Miki Hayato's head.
Goyun sang, "Lift up your skullcap, let me take a look at your brow..."
"Ahhh! My leg!!"
Miki Hayato screamed, completely forgetting the handprint swelling rapidly on his left cheek and the pale circular burn mark from the muzzle.
He saw Yamamoto Takeo's expressionless face and cold eyes, and shuddered involuntarily.
The other man really dared to take his life.
He immediately cried out in utter terror, "You, you... don't! I'll talk, I'll talk! Whimper, whimper, I'm injured! I'm going to die!"
So much for the fearless spirit of facing death without flinching!
Oh, right. It was the Reiwa era now!
These bastards were all like this—crying their hearts out!
"Who was it?"
Yamamoto Takeo pulled the MP5 Submachine Gun's muzzle back slightly and coldly stared at this maggot from a cesspit.
"It was Nakamura Yuta. He..."
Yamamoto Takeo did not even need to press him further. Tearful Miki Hayato immediately spilled everything, honestly listing all the people he had brought and the superior he was supposed to meet.
He and the other unconscious companions on the ground were indeed all corporate slaves employed by Hatta Commercial Co., Ltd.; they were not disguised impostors. However, they also secretly belonged to the Senkai Association. After receiving their assignment, they had followed them all the way here specifically to deal with Yamamoto Takeo and Sakurai Norika. As for veteran driver Okamoto, he was merely an insignificant nobody who had happened to get shot.
Both the embassy and Hatta Commercial Co., Ltd. had been kept completely in the dark. They had no idea that the people they sent were not rescuers, but assassins out to take lives.
As soon as Miki