Carlo stood before the female supervisor's corpse. He had left alone earlier, following Dean's instructions, but unexpectedly, he had circled back.

Now, he held a gun in each hand, furiously aiming at a figure in the emergency exit passageway: the hot girl from the duty room.

Her snow-white, slender right thigh was bloodstained. She leaned weakly against the emergency exit door, holding another man in a security uniform as a human shield. A gun was pressed to his head, creating a standoff with Carlo.

"Fuck, what the hell is going on here!" Harry cursed angrily. He scrambled up from the ground, raised his revolver, and joined Carlo in the narrow passageway, establishing a crossfire on the hot girl.

The male security guard held hostage by the hot girl still hadn't seemed to grasp what was happening.

With a pistol pressed to the back of his head, he stared at his supervisor lying in a pool of blood and said blankly, "Fina, I'm the captain! You killed Manager Indy? Are you crazy?"

BANG!

A cruel glint flashed in the hot girl's eyes. She shifted her gun barrel, aimed at the self-proclaimed captain's cheek, and pulled the trigger. The shot brutally punched a bloody hole straight through his once-handsome face.

The male security guard felt his face go numb, then noticed something had fallen onto his chest.

He looked down to see several bloody, shattered teeth and half a still-twitching tongue...

Overwhelmed by excruciating pain and the horrifying sight, the security captain's eyes rolled back, and he mercifully fainted.

"If it weren't for the mission, I'd have crushed you damned fly long ago!" Fina spat.

With one shot, she'd incapacitated the babbling hostage in her grasp, who clearly couldn't understand the situation.

Ignoring the searing pain in her leg, the hot girl looked suspiciously at Carlo, who was confronting her. "How did you know something was wrong with me?"

Carlo remained silent.

He was actually completely baffled.

「Fifteen minutes earlier.」

Carlo, following Dean's instructions, had pretended to leave. He then asked about the hot girl's start date. After confirming she had only recently been hired, he reappeared before her, ordering her to put her hands on her head and get down.

At that moment, the hot girl had been chatting with the male security guard (now her hostage) and Manager Indy (now deceased).

Seeing Carlo return, she didn't say a word. She kicked the unfortunate Manager Indy toward him, then pulled out her gun and started firing indiscriminately while grabbing the stunned male security guard and retreating toward the emergency exit.

But Carlo was no pushover.

Dean valued him for his formidable hand-to-hand combat skills and marksmanship; he was considered a key combat asset for the squad.

Although Carlo didn't understand why the hot girl reacted so extremely, he responded swiftly. Using Manager Indy's body as a shield, he returned fire, successfully wounding the hot girl in her right thigh.

This led to the current stalemate.

Unsure what the hot girl would do next, Carlo maintained an angry and cold facade. He said firmly, "There are four of us. The commotion will attract other security guards. You can't escape. Drop your gun and surrender if you don't want to die!"

The hot girl knew her chances of escaping injured were slim to none.

She had only asked because she wanted to die knowing why. Since he wasn't talking... then they would all die together!

A crazed determination flashed in her eyes. She was about to open fire recklessly.

Just then—

CREAK!

The monitoring room door opened again.

Dean stepped over Manager Indy's corpse. He glanced down at the manager, whose eyes were still open in death, a hint of concern on his face. Then, looking somewhat irritated, he turned to the hot girl at the end of the passageway. "I don't know who you are, but you shouldn't have killed this woman. It's going to cause me trouble."

This Manager Indy was likely part of an Intelligence Organization, Dean mused. She probably got implicated in my investigation and ended up dead here. This will affect me to some extent later.

This thought troubled Dean.

The hot girl stared at Dean as if he were an idiot.

How can he say such calm, nonsensical things while staring down the barrel of my gun? Is this pretty boy a moron? Can't he see the gun in my hand? I'll kill the pretty boy first!

The hot girl immediately swiveled her gun. She prepared to use her human shield to block any shots while she tried to kill the people in the passageway, hoping for a slim chance of survival.

Just as she was about to pull the trigger, a breeze swept through the corridor, lifting a corner of Dean's suit jacket.

Along with it, a bullet shot out.

Before the hot girl could comprehend how the pretty boy had fired, a tremendous force slammed into her gun hand. The impact sent her pistol flying and violently twisted her wrist, dislocating it and leaving it protruding at an unnatural angle.

Wasted another designer suit, Dean thought, regretfully touching the still-hot bullet hole in his jacket. He leisurely drew his handgun from his waistband and approached the hot girl.

She still tried to resist.

BANG! BANG!

Two more shots.

Bloody holes erupted in the hot girl's remaining good leg and left hand, completely incapacitating her.

Overwhelmed by pain, her face contorted. She glared viciously at Dean, as if wanting to tear a chunk of flesh from his body.

Dean pinched her smooth chin, inspecting her as one would livestock, ensuring she had no means of suicide. After a thorough search of her person, he found a mobile phone.

He skillfully opened the phone.

The interface looked ordinary, but as Dean manipulated it, the screen slid to the left, revealing an unfamiliar yet somehow familiar red interface!

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