Chapter 506: The Sniper Kill

As Consulius had said, Clark Banfield called again not long after. After reporting on various matters, he brought up the matter of the Silver Wing Duke.

"I have reliable information that the Silver Wing Duke has returned to America today. The first thing he did upon returning was to collect all information about you, BOSS, through the Ron Intelligence Agency. How do I know? Ron Intelligence Agency does have a good reputation, but when I was at the FBI in my early years, I planted two moles there—"

"Rumor has it that this man is close to Hannah Wittenstein, the mother of Cleo and Margaret and their siblings. Hannah once tried to recruit the Silver Wing Duke, who had already shown his terrifying talent, in her early years. Although she ultimately failed, she did succeed in making the world's top assassin owe her a favor."

"So BOSS, you need to be extremely careful recently. If not necessary, it's best not to appear in public. You must have Miss Roberta Yvonne protect you closely. That guy has a rule: if he doesn't find an opportunity to strike within a month, or if his sniper shot fails, he won't make a second attempt."

Li Mochen thought this was unnecessary; this time, forcing the Dragon Witch Sect to a draw had brought him more than just the partial lifting of the curse on the 'Crimson Dragon Armor'.

The Silver Wing Duke was indeed someone to guard against, but Li Mochen had enough confidence to deal with him—this confidence came not only from acquiring the 'Light Demon No. 8'.

"Then there's the Medici family."

Banfield's voice turned cold and heavy: "I've found the whereabouts of Radia Medici, BOSS."

Li Mochen's brows lifted slightly: "I need you to pass on his current location and intelligence to Yule Clementine."

"That is to say, BOSS, you intend to kill him, regardless of the Medici family's reaction?"

Banfield asked cautiously: "But actually, this incident has little to do with this kid named Radia; it should be the work of the Medici family's Council of Elders."

"I know."

Li Mochen turned off the TV with a leisurely expression: "The problem now is that I'm not prepared to swallow the Medici family's actions, and my reach currently doesn't extend to the Old Continent."

"Looks like he's a unlucky fellow."

Banfield let out a light laugh: "In that case, let me handle this one. There's no high-level legend around him; I can take him out."

"Are you sure, Clark?"

Li Mochen certainly believed in Banfield's abilities; he was not only an outstanding intelligence officer but also a Legendary Level 4, a battle-hardened magic hunter.

What surprised him now was the implication behind Banfield's voluntary offer.

Was this a sign of truly joining the fold? What in the Eastern ancient world was called a 'pledge of allegiance'?

The corners of Li Mochen's mouth lifted slightly: "Then come to me before you act. I have a Saint-level sniper rifle here that you should like."

Li Mochen ended the call with Banfield in a very pleasant mood, and not long after, his phone rang again.

This time it was Sampson Brut. The iron-blooded man's voice was somewhat choked: "I've heard, BOSS, about Blacktooth Clement."

"Blacktooth Clement? Yes, within five hours at most, he'll be delivered to you in a package."

Li Mochen said in a casual tone: "But you know, Sampson, the conflict between me and them is unavoidable; this war was destined long ago. So this is just incidental. However, I hope that after this, Lieutenant Colonel Brut, you can adjust your mindset and not be consumed by hatred. You should have a bright future—"

"I understand, BOSS."

The clarity in Sampson's voice returned; he had apparently regained his composure: "BOSS, I want to say that although you may think this is nothing, to me, it's a grace akin to rebirth. I will remember it in my heart and will keep my previous oath, fighting for you for life. Sampson Brut will always be your most loyal warrior."

A look of gratification appeared in Li Mochen's eyes.

He valued Sampson Brut highly. Although his talent and strength were far from those of his legendary subordinates, Li Mochen had ways to make up for that.

For his rapidly expanding forces, what was most needed were subordinates with 'loyalty', 'reliability', and strong execution. Sampson Brut lacked none of these.

...

Three hours later, at a private harbor east of Los Angeles.

Radia Medici and Joseph Don Quixote boarded a private yacht two hundred meters long with a displacement of over 14,000 tons. The latter's eyes held obvious displeasure.

"Why the rush? Is it because of that guy? There's no need; it was just a minor conflict. I was the one who handled it last time; he shouldn't know you were involved. You've embarrassed me, Radia. People will think that the illustrious House of Don Quixote can't even protect the safety of their friends."

At that moment, he suddenly thought of something and looked at his friend with a strange expression: "Did your Medici family also participate in this war with the Dragon Witch Sect?"

"I don't know."

Radia Medici replied with a bitter smile: "Just now, our family's Council of Elders informed me to evacuate from America as soon as possible, without any prior warning. So I guess they must have been involved."

"There's no need to be so nervous. That guy—"

Joseph Don Quixote was about to say that the lucky Andre wouldn't dare to lay a hand on members of a supreme family like them.

But when he thought of how his friend's cousin was still missing, and how the Dragon Witch Sect, which had once made all supreme families wary and never dared to provoke easily, had been thoroughly defeated by that guy, Joseph swallowed his next words. "Alright then, take care on the road. Safe journey. I might come to the Old Continent this summer; you promised to introduce me to at least four supermodels, not one less—"

But at that moment, both of them faintly sensed some unusual magical fluctuations nearby.

Radia's bodyguard reacted first: "Young master! Get down! It's a legendary-level sniper—"

But before he could lunge over to protect Radia, a burst of dazzling blood exploded from the latter's brow.

The bullet, clearly of Saint-level, directly ignored the numerous defensive artifacts and blew Radia Medici's head to pieces.

Joseph Don Quixote, caught off guard, was almost splattered with blood and brain matter. His holy protection activated in time, isolating the red-and-white fluids three centimeters from his body, then slowly sliding down. But Joseph himself, as if struck in the soul, stood dazed, his eyes unfocused. Only after his bodyguard dragged him behind cover did he let out a piercing scream.