356: Chapter 356 Bloodbath

This indifferent tone made Latif's scalp tingle instantly, and goosebumps rose all over his body.

In his memory, Adrei was always that passionate, fiery young man who smiled every day.

The person sitting in the driver's seat ahead could not possibly be his driver!

At this moment, Latif also noticed a shallow wound on the back of Adrei's neck; it would have been invisible if not for the spots of blood around it.

The driver remained with his back to him, but that once-familiar figure now appeared abnormally stiff, exuding an indescribable sense of eeriness and numbness.

Latif took a deep breath, trying his best to restore a normal expression, and said naturally, "Adrei, I suddenly remembered I have something to do. Stop the car; I need to get off at the side of the road. You can head back on your own."

The figure in the driver's seat made no movement, maintaining the stiff posture, and replied in a voice like stagnant water, "Very well, President."

But Latif began to panic, because although he said that, the vehicle showed no signs of stopping at all; instead, it was going faster and faster.

"Stop! I said stop!" Latif said again.

"Very well, President." Adrei replied again, and the speed of the car increased once more.

This mechanical response sent a chill through Latif's entire body. Years of experience made him instinctively lunge for the car door, wanting to push it open and jump out to escape, but the next second, a dull locking sound came from the door, completely sealing off all routes of retreat.

Immediately after, a palm suddenly reached out from behind the Lansem seat. Latif didn't even have time to react before he felt his neck being tightly locked by a great force, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Latif tapped the car window in vain, attempting to call for help.

But this bulletproof sedan from the Central Continent had, at this moment, turned into an airtight cage, and all cries for help and resistance were firmly stifled between the car seats.

Not a single sound could escape, and no passerby could see this desperate President...

The vehicle drove straight into a slum in Baghdad and stopped in front of a mud house.

The car door opened, and a stern-looking, burly man stepped out. This man was one of the Clones Lin Fei had implanted with the Hades Chip in the first batch, and he had named him Durant Stern.

Durant opened the car door, grabbed the unconscious Latif like a chick, and carried him into the mud house.

The mud house was not empty at this time; more than a dozen uniformed guards were lying on the floor, and Durant casually threw Latif onto the ground as well.

At this moment, another standing Clone soldier opened the box in his hand. The most eye-catching items inside were those chips the size of sunflower seeds, as well as test tubes filled with green liquid, inside which seemed to be crawling creatures moving slowly—these were the biological carriers for the chips, the Moromi mutant insects...

An unknown implantation surgery began.

After all the Hades Chips were implanted into the necks of these people, Durant clapped his hands. Even though these people were still in a state of unconsciousness, their bodies still stood up, raised their right hands, and performed an extremely standard triangular oath to Durant.

These people's eyes were also open, and apart from being somewhat hollow, one couldn't tell much difference from a normal person.

This was the power of the Hades Chip; even if the host was unconscious, they could still control the host's actions.

Latif numbly got into the sedan and continued to drive toward the government building.

Arriving at the government building, the guards at the gate took one look and lazily opened the barrier for the car; clearly, they did not care about this puppet President.

The sedan drove steadily into the interior of the government building and stopped firmly below the front steps.

Latif pushed open the car door and stepped out with a stiff gait but a normal posture. His hollow eyes swept across the surroundings, and there was no expression on his face—neither panic nor fear, as if everything that had happened in the slum mud house just now had never existed.

On the way to the conference room, Latif encountered an official.

Upon seeing him, this official said directly, "Latif, you suddenly summoned us here—is there something up, or is this an order from Prime Minister Hadasan?"

"Are you mute?" Seeing he didn't speak, the official questioned further.

Latif did not respond; he just looked at him indifferently and walked past the official, leaving.

The fat official was furious. He usually looked down on this nominal President, and now, seeing the other party dare to ignore him, his anger instantly rushed to his head. Regardless of the occasion, he pointed at Latif's body from behind and cursed.

He used dirty language involving sexual organs and the like.

But no matter how he cursed, this puppet President still ignored him and disappeared from sight.

More and more people arrived at the government building. There were actually about a hundred people in the largest conference room in the building; these were the high-ranking officials of Iraq.

Now, only their Prime Minister Hadasan had not arrived. Everyone knew that he was the Master who truly controlled the power of life and death in this country.

Outside the conference room, more than a dozen government guards stood, guarding both sides as usual.

Not long after, a dense sound of footsteps came from the corridor. Hadasan arrived with his own troops. This troop was fully equipped and had clearly received specialized training.

This was a troop Hadasan had personally cultivated, loyal only to him, and only he dared to bring his private armed forces here so blatantly.

After Hadasan walked into the conference room, his troops naturally stood guard at the door. But unlike before, Captain Kalisa of this troop felt that the guards in front of him were a bit strange.

Although their appearance hadn't changed, they gave Kalisa an unnatural feeling.

"Hey, Haru, what's wrong with you today? Didn't you eat breakfast?" Kalisa asked one of them. Kalisa knew this person somewhat, as he often fawned over him on weekdays.

The anomaly appeared; the man called Haru did not respond, his expression remaining numb.

Some faint discussions sounded inside the conference room; clearly, the conversation inside had already begun.

Kalisa's mood suddenly became somewhat irritable, and his heart became uneasy. The source of the unease was, naturally, these dozen or so eerie guards.

Just as Kalisa was preparing to confirm once more if these guards had taken the wrong medicine today.

A sudden change occurred!

Those dozen or so government guards, who had originally been motionless, suddenly had the hollowness in their eyes transform into cold killing intent.

Without any warning, a dozen hands simultaneously reached for the pistols at their waists, their movements uniform and as fast as ghosts.

"Watch out!" someone in the troop exclaimed!

But it was too late. Before Kalisa could react, a bullet had already drilled into his skull, shattering most of his head, and he fell to the ground with a thud.

Dense gunfire rang out. Ten seconds later, these thirty well-trained troop soldiers were silent.

The conference room also went quiet, clearly shocked by the sudden situation outside; they didn't know what had happened, and no one dared to come out to check.

After the killing, these puppet guards had no expression on their faces. Ignoring the corpses and blood on the ground, like executing a program, they kicked open the heavy door of the conference room and rushed in with guns.

Looking at the people sitting in their seats, they pulled the triggers without hesitation.

These so-called Prime Ministers, generals, and high-ranking officials had no power to resist in front of the dense and precise bullets and fell one after another into pools of blood.

The scene was bloody, crisp, and neat.

A few minutes later, the gunfire stopped abruptly.

In the highest-level conference room of the entire government building, among the hundred or so high-ranking Iraqi officials, except for Latif, not one survived.

Blinding blood flowed out from the doorway of the conference room.

At this moment, Latif finally woke up from his daze, looking at the corpses all over the floor in terror.

A voice sounded terrifyingly in his mind: "Mr. Latif, congratulations on breaking free from their control."