Master of Chinese Martial Arts: I Can Steal the Skills of a Grandmaster from the Republic of China E

Chapter 106 Renault, I'll Judge You

Zhou Xing listened to the commotion outside, then walked to the corner of the wall, tore off the waterproof tarpaulin, and unfolded it.

He turned the bell over so that its face was down to prevent blood from seeping from its mouth and nose.

Wrap the oilcloth diagonally, then tie it tightly three times with hemp rope at the ankles, waist, and neck, making a knot. Do the same for Hans.

With swift movements, in less than three minutes, two long bundles were finished.

He crouched down, arching his back, and channeled his energy from his feet through his spine.

With his left hand, he scooped up the Zhongding Na Juan around his waist and hoisted it onto his shoulder; with his right hand, he grabbed the Hans Na Juan and tucked it under his ribs, then pushed open the office door.

The corridor was empty, with only the distant radio in the duty room playing opera tunes. Most of the patrol officers had been reassigned.

Zhou Xing descended the internal staircase with light and quick steps, as if walking on flat ground.

As individual patrols passed by, he listened intently, his movements as if a net had been spread out, stopping and starting as he brushed past them, seemingly oblivious to their presence.

We went straight to the underground parking garage, where, under the dim lights, we found the black Citroën B12 van used by the Renault team. Its body had square lines and its windows were covered with a dark film.

He used Hans' key to open the back door, stuffed two rolls of oilcloth inside, and slammed it shut.

Then, he went back to his office and pulled a canvas bag from the bottom of the cabinet.

Inside were six pieces of TNT wrapped in oil paper, with wires, detonators, batteries, and simple timers neatly categorized.

He squeezed the wire end, turned the timer to the preset setting, grabbed Guo Zhen's big gun, and went downstairs with his bag.

The engine roared, and the car slid out of the side door and turned into a deserted street on the edge of the old town.

There was a secluded little room along the riverbank. He parked his car, went inside, and dialed a number.

The call connected after only one ring, and a suppressed, excited voice came through the receiver: "Who is it?"

Zhou Xing spoke into the microphone, saying only four words: "The time has come."

After saying that, he hung up. He turned around and got back into the truck, which started up again and headed downstream along the riverbank road towards Luanshiji.

The viewing platform at Tianhou Palace.

The air was thick with the smoke of incense and the deafening sound of gongs and drums. The priest's chants echoed through the loudspeakers.

Renault sat in the front row, his back ramrod straight, his gaze calm, only his fingertips tapping the armrest intermittently.

As the sun rises higher and the yang energy increases, the ceremony is progressing step by step towards its planned course.

At that moment, a figure in a dark blue suit squeezed through; it was DuPont.

He reeked of lingering cigarette smoke and alcohol, a smile plastered on his face, his voice low: "Captain Renault, you're really enjoying yourself, watching so intently. I just wonder if you'll still be able to be this relaxed after today."

Renault frowned, slowly turning his head to stare at DuPont with his vertical pupils: "Deputy Director DuPont, if you're too idle, you can go maintain order."

"idle?"

DuPont's smile lines deepened, and his voice softened, "I'm afraid that some people will get carried away and forget who they are."

Just then, a French man in plainclothes strode over, whispered in his ear, and said quickly, "Captain, urgent report from Harrier: there are Japanese people active near point seven downstream, infiltrating the target area. Our men are being monitored from the opposite direction."

Renault's heart sank.

His direct squad is now entirely deployed in the ritual area, both out of distrust to monitor the changes made by those heretics and to protect them from being disturbed by others.

DuPont's cryptic remarks and the unusual behavior of the Japanese—a coincidence? Or is there some unforeseen event he is unaware of?

Without a second thought, Renault abruptly stood up and whispered an apology to the foreign director beside him: "Sorry, I have some urgent business to attend to immediately. I'll be right back."

The director glanced at his watch and frowned. "Renault, the Noon Festival is about to begin."

"Don't worry, I'll be back before noon."

Renault's tone was resolute. Without waiting for a response, he turned and, with the trusted teammate who had brought the message, quickly left the viewing platform.

As he passed DuPont, the gray-green vertical pupils glanced at him, and DuPont's smile froze on his face.

A black Renault Citroën sedan was parked outside the police line. The driver was already waiting.

"Go to point 7 downstream, at top speed."

Renault opened the car door and sat in the back seat, his voice icy.

With the engine roaring and the driver's skillful maneuvering, the car sped away from the bustling Tianhou Temple Square like a black beast, turning onto Heba Road and heading downstream towards the Japanese concession.

Renault leaned back in his leather seat, closed his eyes to rest, pondering why the situation had suddenly changed and considering every possible step that might go wrong.

The car was moving very fast, and the scenery along the road flashed past.

After passing Laolongtou Bend, the road narrows, with brown rocky cliffs on one side and the muffled sound of the river crashing against the rocks on the other.

The driver slowed down slightly and carefully navigated a sharp zigzag bend.

Just as we were about to pass the bend, our view was blocked by rocks.

Right at this moment!

Directly ahead, an identical black Citroën van, like a black phantom emerging from the mountain shadows, came hurtling head-on, without dodging or avoiding!

Too close, too fast!

"Merde!"

The driver was terrified and only had time to let out a scream before slamming on the brakes and jerking the steering wheel.

The tires screeched on the gravel road, and the rubber rubbed together, emitting blue smoke.

The moment the other person appeared, Renault's pupils contracted sharply! He reacted even faster than the driver, his right shoulder slumped, and his entire body exploded with power as he slammed into the car door beside him!

"Bang! Crash!"

The car door latch suddenly twisted and snapped, and the entire door flew off!

Just before the two cars collided, Renault's figure was ejected from the car and rolled towards the pile of rocks by the roadside.

Almost simultaneously, a loud bang!

"boom!!!!!"

The oncoming truck exploded!

A blinding white light exploded from inside the truck opposite!

The explosions roared and raged, and the distorted, transparent shockwaves swept outwards in all directions!

The Renault's vehicle was engulfed by the expanding fireball, torn apart, thrown into the air, and disintegrated. The glass was instantly vaporized.

Immediately afterwards, the fuel tank exploded!

A second, even larger, orange-red fireball tumbled and shot into the sky, engulfed in countless burning fragments, like sparks flying.

The blast wave caught up and slammed hard into Renault's back.

He grunted, using the momentum of his roll to lunge several meters further, his uniform hissing behind him, his skin burning. Burning fragments whistled down, scattering sparks on the rocks.

Smoke billowed and flames roared.

Renault knelt on one knee, shaking his buzzing head. His forehead was cut, and blood mixed with black ash flowed down. His vertical pupils were fixed on the sea of ​​fire.

The driver, the crew members on the truck—they're all gone.

Before he could even recover his senses...

boom!boom!boom!boom!

A steady, precise burst of pistol fire came from the side of the rocky cliff. It was Lebel's shriek.

The bullets are being used for roll call.

The first figure to enter the fire, wriggling in the flames, stiffened and remained still.

The second shot hit the half-open door of the truck behind, sparks flew, and a short scream came from inside.

Reno's hair stood on end, and his Witcher instincts screamed wildly.

Without any hesitation, instead of searching for the gunman's location, he moved like a startled cat, using both hands and feet to unleash astonishing speed, desperately lunging in the opposite direction of the explosion's flames!

That was the entrance to a dark, abandoned shipyard at the foot of the riverbank.

call out!call out!call out!

The bullets followed his footprints, hitting the stones beside him and sending shards of rock flying.

With a leap, he plunged into the half-collapsed, rust-covered dock gate, his figure instantly swallowed by the thick darkness inside.

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