I'm in Conan, I'm not a gangster

Chapter 424 Rum's Escape (1st Update)
"Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—!!!"

More than fifty AGM-158 Joint Air-to-Surface Missiles poured out of the bomb bay, their exhaust flames slicing through the night sky like the Grim Reaper's scythe plunging straight to the ground!

Inside the security room at Rum Estate, the alarm suddenly went off.

A security guard shouted in alarm, "The radar is being jammed! Something is approaching!"

Another security guard rushed to the surveillance camera, his eyes wide, and exclaimed, "What's that dense mass in the sky? Zoom in! B...baka? How can there be so many...!"

Before the words were even finished, the first missile had already struck the main villa with a deafening roar!
boom--! ! !
The explosion instantly engulfed the Baroque building, and the shockwave shattered all the glass within a radius of 100 meters.

Then, a second, a third... missiles rained down like a storm!
The swimming pool was evaporated into a giant crater, the helipad was twisted into scrap metal, and the underground parking garage collapsed in a series of explosions.

On the F-22, Emi Shiraishi's finger swiped rapidly across the touchscreen, the F-22's HUD display flashing a blinding red light.

The message “Target destroyed” kept flashing, but he kept staring intently at the burning manor ruins below.

That's not enough. We must make sure that old fox Rum is dead!

He also wanted to launch another fifty missiles to bombard the area.

Anyway, this thing isn't worth much in the Bandit Mall, so I'll just use it!
Just as his right hand was on the weapon fire button, the radar alarm suddenly sounded shrilly.

Three red dots are rapidly approaching from the northeast; identification signals indicate they are F-15J fighter jets of the US military stationed in Japan.

"Tsk, they came fast." Shiraishi E narrowed her eyes and tapped her fingers lightly on the joystick.

Shooting them down with three F-15Js would not be a problem.

But this is their territory after all, and we can't be arrogant for long, as their fighter jets will provide continuous support.

It's not that we can't afford a protracted war, but rather that if we do, the financial costs will be enormous, yet we'll gain absolutely nothing.

Besides, no matter how awesome I am or how good my driving skills are, I'm still just one person.

Ultimately, they were unable to withstand the onslaught of being ganged up on.

He quickly switched radar modes with his left hand, assessing the battlefield situation.

"That's enough!" Shiraishi E gave up on the idea of ​​firing another fifty missiles. If Rum was still alive, then they could continue firing.

As soon as the enemy shows their face, they will be bombed immediately.

Thinking of this, he suddenly pulled up the control lever.

The F-22 climbed rapidly at a near-vertical angle.

G forcefully pressed him down into the seat, but his face remained unchanged.

Through the cockpit glass, Shiraishi Ei saw that the manor below had been completely engulfed in flames, with thick smoke rising thousands of meters into the air.

"I hope you like this gift...provided you're still alive." He took one last look and then pressed a button.

The F-22's exhaust nozzle spews out dazzling blue flames, instantly breaking the sound barrier and leaving a clear sonic boom cloud in the clouds.

When the three F-15Js arrived, they were stunned to see only the gradually dissipating sonic boom cloud and the still-burning ruins below.

The three pilots began communicating on the radio: "What's going on?"

"We were only a few minutes late, how did the manor get bombed like this?"

"Given the scale of this bombing, there should be at least thirty missiles... But wasn't that F-22 that just flew away? Can it carry that many missiles?"

"It can't carry more. The F-22's main weapons bay and side weapons bays can only carry a maximum of six missiles combined. Even if we sacrifice stealth capabilities, we can only add two more."

"How did it bomb the manor like this?"

"........."

Faced with this problem, all three pilots were baffled.

Just then, a pilot suddenly noticed that the radar signal had disappeared: "The target has disappeared. It's probably because they released a large number of flares, and the radar has failed. Should we give chase?"

"Our mission is simply to scout the situation; we don't need to cause any unnecessary trouble."

"Just report the situation; the decision is up to the higher-ups."

"........."

The three pilots were not naive either, and they realized that the guy flying the F-22 was no ordinary person.

Coupled with the somewhat unusual number of missiles, they didn't want to provoke such an enemy. They weren't in Okinawa for a vacation, nor were they here to risk their lives!
So, after discussing it, the three pilots decided to report the matter.

By the time the "tracking" order was given, the F-22 had already flown off to who-knows-where.

----------------------

Inside the villa's study, Rum sat on a custom-made calfskin sofa, a cigar between his fingers, while his other hand flipped through a world classic.

"More than a minute has passed. That bastard should be blown to bits by now, right?" He glanced at the Patek Philippe clock on the wall and muttered to himself.

Just as Rum was about to send someone to the old Yokohama docks to check on the situation, a sharp whooshing sound came from afar!
"This is!" Rum's pupils suddenly contracted, a strong sense of impending death washing over him!
"boom!!!"

Before he could make a move, the deafening roar of the first missile hitting the east wing villa shattered all the windows.

The crystal chandelier crashed down, shattering into countless fragments at Rum's feet. His cigar fell from his fingers, burning a charred hole in the Persian carpet.
"Damn it!" He jumped up abruptly, knocking over the whiskey beside him. "What the hell is going on outside?"

He was met with a series of explosions.

The entire building swayed violently like a small boat in a storm, as if it were about to collapse at any moment.

Overwhelmed by a sense of crisis, Rum acted decisively, rushing towards the bookshelf and pressing the hidden switch with trembling fingers.

The bookshelf was quickly moved aside, revealing a dark escape route.

Rum scrambled toward the secret passage, the roar of missile explosions echoing behind him.

The crystal chandelier crashed down where he had just been standing, and flying shards tore his suit trousers.

"Baka!!" Rum looked back and broke out in a cold sweat.

If he had been even a fraction of a second slower, he would have been crushed to death by the falling crystal chandelier.

Just as Rum breathed a sigh of relief, a small stone suddenly fell from the ceiling of the secret passage and hit his bald head.

"!!!" Rum looked up and was shocked to find that even the secret passage was showing signs of collapse!
He ran frantically into the depths of the secret passage.

However, after running for only a short while, a cold metal gate blocked their way.

Rum quickly looked his right eye at the iris scanner, and a cold, mechanical female voice announced, "Identification in progress, please wait."

"Hurry up! You fucking hurry up!" Rum watched as stones kept falling from the ceiling and frantically pounded on the metal door frame.

The entire villa shook violently during the continuous bombing, and large sections of the ceiling began to fall off.

Four seconds felt like four minutes to Rum.

Finally, with a beep, the metal door opened after verification.

Rum rushed into the secret passage, but bumped into a second security door at the corner.

"Fingerprint verification? I'll fuck your grandpa!" he cursed, his hand trembling as he pressed it against the fingerprint scanner, his palm now stained with blood.

The reason so many checkpoints were set up was to block the enemy.

But now, it has become his death warrant on his escape route!
boom--

A missile hit the study in the villa, and the secret passage suddenly shook violently, with concrete fragments raining down.

As Rum scrambled to avoid falling rocks, the second safety door finally opened.

He rushed inside, but was stopped at the corner by a third keypad door.

He frantically entered the 16-digit password, but his hands trembled and he entered it wrong twice in a row.

"Warning: One attempt remaining," the system announced ruthlessly.

Calm down, calm down, calm down!!
Just as Rum was frantically telling himself to make one last attempt with trembling fingers, an ominous cracking sound came from above.

A block of concrete, the size of a refrigerator, fell from the ceiling, its reflection growing larger in his terrified pupils.
boom!
The heavy blow sent Rum flying three meters like a rag doll, his spine cracking with a crisp sound.

He struggled to get up, only to find that he had completely lost feeling in his lower body.

"Help!" Blood gushed from the corner of his mouth, and his voice was so weak that he could barely hear it himself.

Just then, another piece of concrete fell from the ceiling and hit him on the back.

Rum fell silent before he could even scream.

(End of this chapter)