Only I Follow the Law: An Unorthodox Tokyo Cultivation Routine

Chapter 117 Operation Code Name: The Hunt, The Kujo Family Under Scrutiny

Matthew Brown, the commander of Camp Hansen, learned of what had happened at the camp gate the following day.

Three soldiers were beheaded on the spot in front of the sentries at the main gate of the camp. The murderer calmly left, and the two soldiers on the sentry post did not even fire their guns.

Matthew's face was grim. He recognized the three soldiers, because he was the one they referred to as "the one above."

Every month, he would work with the logistics department to resell a batch of so-called scrapped military supplies, including drugs brought in through special channels. These items brought him a considerable amount of illicit income each month.

Now, they were beheaded in public at the base gate.

Matthew Brown was furious. Cutting off someone's livelihood was like killing their parents, let alone committing violence at the gates of a military camp.

He absolutely hated that so-called Grim Reaper.

But now is not the time to lash out; he must report to his superiors immediately.

He drove to the camp, carrying a report prepared by his subordinates, passed through the sentry posts, and headed straight for the golf course deep inside the camp.

The football field is covered in lush green grass, with a gentle sea breeze blowing; you would never guess that this place is actually a military camp.

Lieutenant General Charles Thomas, commander of the 3rd Marine Expeditionary Force, is standing on the tee box, holding a golf club.

Although his temples were already gray, his posture was exceptionally upright, and his eyes were sharp as an eagle, giving him a very military bearing.

Matthew strode forward, stood at attention, and saluted.

"Lieutenant General, there's an emergency."

"explain."

Thomas didn't look at him, swung his club, and the white ball drew a high and far arc, landing on the edge of the green, rolling a few times, and stopping near the hole.

"Last night, at the main gate of the military camp, three soldiers were beheaded in public by an unidentified armed man."

Matthew handed over the report.

"The killer wore a red Shura mask and called himself the Grim Reaper. His characteristics closely matched the description from Tokyo. The sentry soldiers witnessed all his actions."

Thomas took the report, flipped through a few pages, and frowned slightly.

"The Grim Reaper? The one who was acting like a ghost in Tokyo before?"

"Yes, and intelligence indicates that the weather weapon incident that caused heavy casualties to the investigation team recently was also the work of Death. The Pentagon is taking this very seriously."

"Is it confirmed that this was done by the same person?"

"Judging from the mask, swordsmanship, and style of operation, they are basically a match, but it is still unclear whether the other party has an organizational background."

Thomas handed the report back to Matthew, picked up the water glass on the table, took a sip, looked at the distant blue coastline, and remained silent for a moment.

Death—he quickly calculated in his mind.

The conflict between the civilian faction led by the Minister of Defense and the military faction led by the Minister of the Army has long been intense.

The military bases stationed in Okinawa are naturally within the sphere of influence of the military faction.

He learned that William Jones, an investigator sent by the Department of Defense, had landed in Tokyo some time ago, but he was not very clear about the specifics.

However, as the news leaked out and rumors about weather weapons spread like wildfire, the Secretary of the Army called him personally, and he learned that it was for so-called high-tech weapons.

The minister hopes to investigate the situation at all costs and, if possible, obtain the relevant technology or samples before the civilian faction does, thereby strengthening the military faction's bargaining power against those civilian officials who always want to cut military spending and interfere in overseas operations.

A few days ago, he had secretly dispatched an action team to infiltrate Tokyo, ready to strike when the opportunity arose.

Unexpectedly, the Grim Reaper came to Ryukyu on his own initiative.

Thomas put down his water glass, turned around, and looked serious.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Death has been so arrogant this time, coming to the stronghold of American influence in the island nation. We must give him a proper welcome."

Upon learning that Death had appeared in Okinawa, Thomas immediately convened an emergency meeting with the commanders of all camps.

After intensive discussions, a series of plans were laid out, and all that remained was for death to reappear.

Finally, they decided to codename this operation: The Hunt.

Han Chuanyou was completely unaware that because of his provocation, the US military had already swiftly launched a series of countermeasures against him.

Even if he knew, he would only think the more the better, since these are all ready-made experience packages.

He was carrying a bag of drinks, the sun shining down on him, as he slowly walked towards the guesthouse.

Having improved his physique to this point, Han Chuanyou is now immune to both heat and cold, and even under the blazing sun, his body surface can maintain a just-right temperature.

It's no wonder that Meiyue let him hold her while she slept; being close to him was no different than being in air conditioning.

He carried his things up to the second floor and then saw a particularly pleasing scene.

Sunlight streamed unhindered into the terrace, bathing the entire space in a warm golden hue.

The angle here is just right; passersby downstairs can't see inside the terrace, but sitting in the wicker chairs, they can enjoy an unobstructed view of the distant blue seascape.

Mizuki was lounging lazily in a wicker chair, wearing a sexy bikini. The black fabric accentuated her snow-white skin, and her two full breasts looked like they were about to burst out, with the overflowing soft flesh resembling marshmallows.

She lay on her side, one hand behind her head and the other on the armrest of the wicker chair, flipping through the latest fashion magazine. The round, white side of her back was particularly eye-catching.

Han Chuanyou stood at the door, admiring the scene, a smile curving his lips.

"Mizuki, you really know how to enjoy yourself."

Han Chuanyou stepped forward, took out the drinks one by one, and placed them on the small wooden table next to him.

"The point of going on vacation is to enjoy yourself."

Han Chuan Meiyue took a can of cola, clicked it open, and took a sip with her red lips slightly parted. The condensed water droplets on the can fell between her delicate collarbones, then flowed down her skin and slid into the bottomless cleavage.

Han Chuan You felt a little thirsty.

"Mizuki, you really are something, even spilling your drink. Let me wipe it for you."

He took a tissue and rubbed it against the softness in front of her; the touch was still unbeatable.

"Get out of here."

Han Chuan Mei Yue rolled her eyes and slapped his hand away.

She took another sip of cola. In the sweltering summer heat, with the sea view in front of her, she felt like something was missing.

"Why didn't you buy any alcohol?"

Do you think I can buy alcohol?

"Heh—" she chuckled softly, "I forgot you're still a little kid."

2

"Don't underestimate little kids, believe me or not I'll show you the power of a little brat."

"letter."

Han Chuan Mei Yue nodded, a maternal smile appearing on her lips, and reached out to pat him on the head.

"But little kids can't do things that only adults do, okay?"

Han Chuan You took her hand speechlessly: "Mei Yue, what do you take me for? You're treating me like a child."

"Aren't you my child?"

Having raised Han Chuan You for so many years, Han Chuan Mei Yue felt that there was absolutely nothing wrong with what she said.

Han Chuan You was utterly astonished, looking at her like she was some kind of twisted older sister: "I treated you like a sister, but you want to be my mother? I never imagined you, Mizuki, would have such a fetish!"

Han Chuan Meiyue wasn't embarrassed at all and said matter-of-factly, "You boys like others to call you 'Dad,' so why can't we like others to call us 'Mom'? Come on, call me 'Mom'."

Han Chuanyou didn't deny the meaning of "whoever feeds you is your mother," so he smiled and leaned closer, resting his chin on her fragrant shoulder: "Then, Miyuki-mama, I want to drink milk."

When Han Chuan Mei Yue saw him actually shout, she was stunned for a moment, and a strange flutter rose in her heart. But when she heard his shameless words afterward, she realized what was happening and pushed him away: "Get lost, I don't have an unfilial son like you."

In Los Angeles, far across the ocean, there is a luxurious Western-style castle mansion.

Edward, the head of the Ashworth family, sat leisurely under a parasol in the courtyard, his fingers gently holding the handle of a white porcelain coffee cup as he slowly took a sip.

Sunlight streamed onto the neatly trimmed lawn, and the artificial fountain in the distance shimmered with fragmented rainbows in the sunlight.

"Mr. Edward, we have some new information."

The butler, dressed in a black suit, strode closer, bowed slightly, and handed over a document that had just been delivered.

Edward waved his hand: "Just say it."

"It concerns Mr. Henry's whereabouts. The island nation reported a plane crash, and after verification, the crashed plane was indeed our Gulfstream. It is highly likely that all those on board perished."

Edward paused slightly in his coffee-serving hand, then slowly put the cup down, the porcelain saucer tapping against the table with a crisp sound.

His expression darkened, and his hawk-like eyes narrowed into slits: "Was it the Kujo family who did it?"

"It is currently uncertain. At the time, the American base did not detect any radar signals indicating the missile launch. Preliminary analysis suggests that the sabotage may have been carried out from inside the aircraft."

"Very well." Edward sneered, his eyes surging with anger. "The Kujo family actually dared to go this far. This is a blatant provocation against the Ashworth family."

He made no attempt to reflect on whether sending someone to assassinate the heir of the Kujo family was a provocation.

In his eyes, it was only natural for the Ashworths to scheme against others, and if others retaliated, they would be considered ungrateful and guilty of heinous crimes.

"Give the order."

Edward stood up, put his hands in his pockets, and looked ruthless.

"Unite with our allies in Congress to completely block the Kujo family's businesses in California. Show no mercy. Let those islanders understand that we have a way to make them return every penny they've earned from the American market over the years, with interest."

The butler hesitated for a moment: "The Kujo family has close ties with the island nation's political scene. I'm afraid that if we do this, we will offend the island nation and affect relations between the two countries."

Edward chuckled sarcastically: "Ha—just America's dogs. What can they do to us besides protest? Didn't their prime minister just recently sign an investment agreement worth over 500 billion US dollars to curry favor with us?"

The political and business worlds of America are dominated by these local tycoons. These island nation tycoons who come across the ocean to make money are nothing but beggars.

In their eyes, the overseas assets of island nation capital like the Kujo family have always been nothing more than fat sheep waiting to be slaughtered.

"in addition."

Edward turned around, his gaze cold.

"Besides the asset interception, I think it's necessary to plan another operation against the Kujo family to remind them of the consequences of going against Ashworth."

He sat back down in the wicker chair, picked up the slightly cooled coffee, drank it all in one gulp, and a cruel smile appeared on his lips.

The Kujo family—just wait to be harvested, why do you have to go against us?

"Yes."

The butler acknowledged and withdrew.

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