61: Chapter 61 Where did Jiang Rumu go?

"I'm eating Hotpot base."

Fahd stared fixedly at Li Li.

That stiff, clumsy Chinese, heavy with the scent of cumin, seemed extremely eerie under the pale bathroom lights.

Li Li raised an eyebrow.

He hooked his left hand backward.

Click. The bathroom door was locked tight.

"When you walked past me, there was a faint scent of perfume," Fahd said, speaking at high speed, Arabic words tumbling out frantically, not even stopping to breathe. "It's the scent on Ms. Jiang. I have a very good memory. Plus this drop of red oil—it can't be anyone but you."

Li Li's facial muscles twitched.

He raised his hand and wiped his face hard with his rough cuff.

The thickest patch of blood and dust was wiped away, revealing his original skin tone.

"You've got a sharp nose."

Li Li pulled the hem of his tactical vest straight to cover the drop of red oil.

Fahd's back pressed against the cold tiles as he slid down bit by bit, collapsing beside the toilet.

He let out a long, heavy breath, his tense shoulders finally slumping.

Li Li crouched down.

He flipped his wrist, and a multi-function folding knife slid from the inside of his tactical vest into his palm.

The blade cut precisely into the high-strength nylon zip tie on Fahd's wrist.

Snap. The zip tie broke.

"What do those three outside want?" Li Li put the knife away.

Fahd rubbed his wrist, which had been chafed into a deep purple welt.

"Take us away," Fahd looked up, his voice very low. "The helicopter is on the roof. They want to take the three of us back to Tel Aviv for a global live-streamed public trial. They want to force Ala Country into a total ceasefire and cede the border."

Li Li rotated his left wrist.

These Israel agents were certainly sharp. Decapitation strike combined with political blackmail. If they really pulled this off, the entire landscape of the Middle East would be reshuffled.

Li Li glanced at his watch.

"Three people. All armed with Uzi submachine guns."

Li Li drew the glock 17 from his waist, ejected the magazine, and flicked the gleaming yellow bullets with his thumb.

He pushed it back in and chambered a round.

"A direct confrontation risks stray bullets. If I hurt your uncle or your father, this Hotpot meal will have been for nothing."

Fahd stood up and stretched his stiff neck, his joints popping with a cracking sound.

"How do we do this?"

Li Li pointed at Fahd, then at himself.

"You, hit me."

Fahd froze.

"Grab the gun. Fire. Then I'll 'die' my way out." Li Li took off the Uzi submachine gun hanging on his chest, removed the live magazine, and tossed it into the sink. "Make some noise. Hide in the innermost stall. Don't come out no matter what."

Fahd reacted extremely quickly.

He grabbed the stainless steel soap dispenser from the vanity and turned around.

He swung his arm with all his might, smashing it hard against the huge vanity mirror in front of him.

Crash!

The ear-piercing sound of shattering glass exploded in the cramped space, and countless shards of glass showered the floor like a rainstorm.

"Help—!"

Fahd shouted at the top of his lungs in Arabic with all his might. The sound was so shrill it could pierce through the blast-proof door.

Li Li cooperated by retreating, his back slamming hard against the door panel.

Bang!

Li Li raised the glock 17 in his right hand and pulled the trigger at the bathroom ceiling.

The bullets pierced the plasterboard, and dust rained down.

Immediately after, Li Li twisted the door lock backward and slammed his body backward.

The bathroom door was slammed open from the inside.

Li Li clutched his chest tightly with both hands. The blood plasma that had been smeared on his tactical vest beforehand—belonging to that dead fatty—oozed out in large amounts between his fingers.

He staggered back two steps and tumbled out of the bathroom.

He fell heavily onto the anti-static carpet of the conference room.

His legs kicked twice, his head lolled to the side, and he went completely still.

Inside the conference room.

The lead spy and the injured spy whipped their heads around.

The spy guarding the door immediately leveled his submachine gun, the barrel aimed fixedly at the bathroom.

"What's going on!" the lead spy roared. Hebrew echoed through the empty room.

"Fahd grabbed the gun!" the injured spy looked at "Gardener B" lying on the ground, his face full of malice. "That waste of space!"

The lead spy glanced at his tactical terminal.

The helicopter would be here soon. There was no time to waste.

"Clear the bathroom! Dead or alive!"

He waved his hand.

The door-guarding spy and the injured spy moved left and right, covering each other, and closed in on the bathroom along the wall.

The lead spy stayed put, lowering his gun to aim at Zair and Deputy Prime Minister Mohammed, who were crouching in the corner, preventing these two big shots from causing trouble in the chaos.

The first two kicked open the half-ajar bathroom door.

It was quiet inside.

Only the sound of a dripping faucet. The floor was covered in shimmering broken glass.

The two crept in, one after the other, their gun barrels scanning back and forth.

Inside the conference room.

The lead spy, who had stayed behind, was staring at the bathroom, his attention fully focused inside.

On the carpet.

The "dead" Li Li silently braced his left hand against the floor.

His body muscles tightened instantly.

No unnecessary movements. Not a sound.

Li Li slid along the floor for three meters, darting directly into the lead spy's blind spot.

The lead spy only felt a cold breeze sweep across his back. Before he could turn his head—

Li Li's right knee slammed into his lower back spine.

His left hand formed a knife-hand, striking the opponent's temple with pinpoint precision. The force penetrated the bone, reaching the nerve center.

Crack.

A faint sound of bone cracking.

The lead spy didn't even let out a muffled groan. He rolled his eyes and collapsed to the floor.

Li Li caught his falling body and laid him slowly on the carpet, not letting the Uzi submachine gun make a single sound.

One down.

Li Li drew the glock 17 from his waist and strode toward the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom.

The two spies had already searched the first two stalls.

Only the innermost one remained. The door was tightly closed.

The door-guarding spy gave a tactical signal to the injured spy. Both raised their guns simultaneously, preparing to spray the door with indiscriminate fire.

Li Li appeared silently at the bathroom entrance.

His muzzle lifted.

Bang! Bang!

Two 9mm Parabellum rounds.

The first round pierced the back of the door-guarding spy's head. A splash of blood bloomed into a glaring red flower on the tiled wall.

The second round hit the injured spy's cervical spine with precision.

Both fell forward stiffly, crashing onto the broken glass covering the floor. Blood instantly spread across the floor, flowing into the floor drain along the gaps between the tiles.

Two seconds. Combat over.

Li Li blew the smoke from the muzzle.

The innermost stall door opened a crack. Fahd poked half his head out.

He glanced at the two corpses on the floor, then at Li Li, who was standing at the door with an expressionless face.

Fahd opened his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing frantically.

This Dubai prince, who had seen it all, had his brain completely crash at this moment.

This is a damn internet celebrity? This is a damn amateur?

Taking out two fully armed Mossad elites in two seconds. Such skill would be at the pinnacle of the Royal Guard.

"Basic operation. Don't be surprised."

Li Li holstered his gun.

Dense footsteps and the roar of demolition tools could be heard outside the conference room.

Li Li walked out of the bathroom and arrived at the console.

He scanned the surveillance footage on the screen.

The entire security system of the Abu Dhabi palace had been fully rebooted. Large numbers of fully armed Royal Guard members were sweeping floor by floor.

"Israel only gave them a ten-minute extraction window," Li Li tapped the keyboard twice to pull up the perimeter defense map. "Once time is up, the perimeter anti-aircraft missiles will lock onto the airspace again. They never intended to leave alive. Or rather, the higher-ups just treated them as expendable."

The screen cut to the banquet hall.

Li Li leaned closer to the screen.

It was a mess. Tables and chairs were overturned. Expensive tableware was shattered all over the floor.

Under the table where Shen Jue had been sitting, a few unwrapped candies were scattered.

But the Production Team members were nowhere to be seen.

Jiang Rumu wasn't there either.

Li Li rotated his left wrist. His heart skipped a beat.

Fahd walked out of the bathroom.

When he passed the lead spy lying on the floor, Fahd stopped.

The lead spy had only been knocked unconscious. His fingers were twitching slightly; there were signs he was waking up.

Fahd bent down and picked up the Uzi submachine gun from the floor.

He pulled the bolt.

The barrel was aimed fixedly at the lead spy's head.

Rat-tat-tat-tat!

Half a magazine was emptied instantly.

The lead spy's head was completely mangled. Red and white matter splattered onto Fahd's pant leg.

Zair and Deputy Prime Minister Mohammed sat in the corner, watching Fahd's actions without a word.

Deputy Prime Minister Mohammed looked at Li Li. The scrutiny in the eyes of this Dubai Sheikh was gone, replaced only by extreme shock and awe.

Li Li turned his head to look at Fahd.

Fahd tossed the empty submachine gun on the floor and straightened his gold-trimmed formal wear, which was covered in wrinkles and blood stains.

"Ala Country does not need traitors," Fahd said in Arabic, enunciating every word clearly. "And it does not need living captives."

Li Li didn't say much.

Boom!

A large hole was blown into the thirty-centimeter-thick blast-proof door by a directional explosive charge.

Over a dozen Royal Guard special forces soldiers filed in. The beams of their tactical flashlights crisscrossed frantically throughout the conference room.

"Clear!"

"Mr. President!"

The security captain rushed to Zair, knelt on one knee, his breathing shaking.

Zair raised his hand and let the medics cut the zip ties on his wrists.

The seventy-something-year-old man stood up, his back still straight.

He surveyed the corpses on the floor, finally letting his gaze rest on Li Li.

Zair walked over and extended his right hand.

Li Li reached out and shook it.

"Young man," Zair said in a refined London accent, "The Hotpot you treated us to tonight is very expensive."

"It's alright. Just cost me some clothes." Li Li pointed to his tattered LV.

The security captain began to quickly report the battle damage.

"Reporting to Mr. President! The perimeter attackers have all been neutralized! The banquet hall guests have been transferred to the underground bunker!"

"Casualties?" Fahd asked.

"Seventeen Royal Guard members killed in action. Twelve guests with minor injuries. No deaths." The security captain paused. "However..."

"Speak."

"Some foreign guests and several peripheral royal family members are missing."

Fahd whipped his head around. "Who is missing?"

"Several princes and princesses from Oman and Yemen. And..." the security captain flipped through the tactical tablet, "several members of the Production Team from the East are also missing. They didn't enter the bunker either."

The motion of Li Li rotating his left wrist froze abruptly.

At that moment.

[Ding—]

The long-absent system notification sound suddenly rang in his mind.

[Abnormal fluctuations in vital signs detected for core bound object 'Jiang Rumu'!]

[Mandatory SSS-rank main quest triggered!]