Soul Patch

Chapter 288 Suburban Villa
A hotel on the north side of Zhongjie Street.

The two white men stared at each other silently, their faces grim. The one by the window spoke first: "John, who was that woman who suddenly appeared?"

John checked his phone; there were no calls or messages coming in yet.

He couldn't hold back any longer and quickly dialed a number.

While waiting for the call to connect, he paced back and forth in the room.

As soon as the call connected, he impatiently asked, "So, did you find it?"

"...Not yet. All we know for now is that she's Japanese, 20 years old, and entered the country three years ago. Since then, she's been teaching Japanese and Korean at *University. She speaks three languages..."

I'm not looking for a translator. Do I care how many languages ​​she speaks...? John was getting impatient.
"Give us something useful! Where did she get her gun? Where did she get her explosives? How did she get in here? What is her purpose? Is she targeting us?"

"Um... please wait a moment, I'll report to you as soon as I find out!" the other party said anxiously.

"You'd better hurry!" John raised his wrist, glanced at the time, and pondered, "In half an hour, our assassination mission will officially begin! Hopefully, your intelligence will arrive before that."

After saying that, he angrily hung up the phone, his chest heaving violently, and a low-pressure atmosphere spreading around him.

"Mike, what do you think?"

Upon hearing John's question, Mike took a breath and slowly exhaled.

He felt a strange, throbbing sensation coursing through his chest.

So he took a deep breath, suppressed his fluctuating emotions, and said in a calm tone:
"I think their methods are more sophisticated than ours. So I believe their goals are more tempting."

John was walking toward the corner of the room when he heard Mike's words and paused slightly.

Immediately, as if nothing had happened, he raised his arm, opened the refrigerator door, and took out two cans of Coke.

The warm yellow light from the refrigerator shone on John's face, making his deep features stand out in the darkness.

But his handsome face was taut, and his expression was somber.

Those who know him well will know that John is angry.

Mike shrugged and said half-jokingly, "Thanks for getting me the drink!"

John snorted, turned his head, and looked at Mike on the sofa.

At this moment, Mike leaned back in the chaise lounge, his long legs naturally stretched out in front of him.

He sat with his back to the window, his face hidden in the shadows, making it impossible to see his expression.

John raised his hand and tossed a can of Coke.

With a "snap," Mike caught it steadily, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip.

The icy sensation spread from his mouth to his stomach, and he let out a long sigh of relief: "Awesome!"

“Mike, since you find the purpose of that mysterious organization more intriguing, go investigate it and find out what their purpose is.”

"Let's make a quick buck before we leave the country... how about it?"

John said in a joking tone, sipping his Coke.

Mike, who had been staring blankly at the Coke in his hand, suddenly looked up at John and stared at him quietly.

John's deep blue eyes appeared as if veiled in dark gray in the darkness, yet his pupils shone brightly.

Like an owl perched on a branch in the night, its sharp eyes gleamed with a fierce light as it stared intently at the rats crawling on the ground... waiting for a delicious dinner.

It seems John is serious.

This was the John he admired. Ten years ago, John was indeed a rising star in the organization, unstoppable and full of brilliance... Mike smiled with delight.

He turned and walked toward the door, not forgetting to say goodnight to John as he reached it.

……

A villa in the suburbs of Beijing.

The antique courtyard was bathed in a silvery glow, and steam rose from the hot spring pool, shrouding this extraordinary night in mystery. "Minako failed," a short man gritted his teeth.

A man dressed in a blue kimono sat in front of him, who was leisurely enjoying a late-night snack.

The soft kimono fabric clung to his body, making his imposing physique immediately apparent.

If a man with broad shoulders and a thick waist were a bit overweight, he would easily remind people of Japanese sumo wrestlers.

Hearing the man's words, he flew into a rage: "Baka! What did you say?"

The short man shuddered, lowered his head deeply, and said in a deep voice, "Sato! She failed. She was spotted while preparing to kill her target, and the other party dodged her bullet."

The man sitting on the floor roughly raised his hand, overturning the food table in front of him.

Plates of exquisite fresh seafood and sushi were scattered all over the floor.

"Hey! Sato-kun, calm down!" The short man hunched over, staring at the ground, and mumbled.

The man called Sato's face contorted in rage, his eyes bloodshot with fury, the whites of his eyes bulging with veins. He roared, "You...you go and grab that boy!"

"Yes, yes! I'll get right on it!"

The short man straightened up and walked toward the wooden sliding door.

Footsteps creaked softly on the wooden floor.

"Wait a minute..." Sato's expression softened, and his voice became very gentle: "Does he have Soul with him?"

The short man, who was almost at the door, stopped, turned around respectfully, bowed deeply, and said in a voice that sounded as if it were crawling up from his feet: "No!"

"Do you know where it is?" Sato's eyes sparkled as he looked expectantly at the man at the door.

"We don't know yet."

The short man lowered his head again, afraid of angering Sato.

Such an important thing couldn't even be found. This good-for-nothing, this short and weak man, he doesn't even deserve to be called a man... A surge of anger exploded in Sato's heart.

He picked up the food tray in front of him, the heavy tray feeling like a toy in his hands. He swung it around easily and smashed it down on the short man's head.

The man at the door was short, but he refused to lower himself.

He didn't move an inch, stubbornly bearing the entire burden of the food.

"Duang..."

He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, and his whole body involuntarily convulsed.

He swayed a few times, then slowly regained his balance.

He shouted with all his might, "Hey!"

He remained standing in the same spot, without moving an inch.

At such close range, if Sato were to hit him on the head, his head would probably be cracked open already.

The reason he only hit Sato's left shoulder was because Sato was testing him.

As expected, Sato was very satisfied with his performance.

Japanese samurai should have this spirit: fearless in the face of punishment and ready to die for their enemies!
Sato clenched his fists, staring at the man standing in the doorway: "Kitahara-kun, go! Don't forget how your wife died, don't forget how your son died!"

The man called Kitahara trembled uncontrollably upon hearing this.

He gritted his teeth and forced out a few words: "I will never forget!"

"So what are you going to do?" Sato Takeshi's face turned extremely serious. He walked step by step up to Kitahara-kun, his bloodshot eyes staring at him intently.

"Hey!" Ignoring his injuries, Kitahara straightened his posture and said in a loud and stern voice, "Find Soul and personally stab that vicious murderer."

Sato nodded slowly, a relieved smile on his face.

(End of this chapter)