undercover manga

My name is Wesley Burgessian.

A customer service representative for an investment firm who also does financial reporting on the side.

I don't like this company, and the one thing I hate most is the 250-pound anorexic boss.

But compared to my girlfriend’s complaints and the noisy cheap apartment, I prefer the company’s quiet office area at night.

And you get paid for overtime work.

Otherwise, with that meager salary, how would I be able to rent a house, buy medicine, and spend my daily expenses with my girlfriend?

Therefore, you must work overtime. Only by working overtime can you maintain your life like this.

And today is another day of working overtime with happiness.

###

For Wesley, working overtime is just the most ordinary daily routine.

"what…"

After finishing the final work, he stretched comfortably.

In the empty office area, Wesley felt that this was the most pleasant time of the day.

However, it was a bit regretful that the friend who had originally arranged to work overtime together suddenly had something to do and couldn't come.

They say they're friends, but that's not necessarily true.

Just because he was the only person in the company willing to interact with him, Wesley considered him a friend.

I looked at my watch, it was already nine o'clock in the evening.

"Strange...why hasn't Annabelle called yet? Didn't we make an appointment to have supper together?"

Wesley has long been accustomed to his girlfriend's unpunctuality.

He took the initiative to make a phone call.

"Hey…"

My girlfriend's voice with a thick nasal voice came from the phone.

"Are you okay? Why does your voice sound weird?"

Wesley asked concerned.

"I'm fine...ah...I'm exercising...wu..."

The voice on the other end of the phone was intermittent, accompanied by heavy breathing.

It seems that the level of exercise is very intense.

"Don't tire yourself out. I'll bring you something to eat tonight. What do you want to eat?"

"Ah...whatever...ahhhhh:"

The other party seemed to have reached a critical moment and suddenly hung up the phone.

Even so, Wesley was not angry.

Because he doesn't love her at all, and naturally he doesn't care what his girlfriend is doing.

Being nice to her is nothing more than a man's remaining sense of responsibility in a relationship.

After packing his things, Wesley got ready to get off work.

Unexpectedly, as soon as he picked up the briefcase, he turned around and saw a tall, thin black figure standing behind him.

Wesley was frightened and couldn't help but take a half step back and bumped into his desk.

The other person had half-long hair and was wearing a high-end black suit.

Although he has a somewhat decadent temperament and an unshaven face, he can't hide his handsome features.

Moreover, that man's eyes were filled with stories, and it was obviously impossible for him to be the same type of person.

"who are you?"

Wesley's voice trembled, he held the table with one hand, and leaned his upper body back, showing a somewhat passive temperament.

He felt a fatal threat from the man in black in front of him, as if he would die in the next second.

This extreme psychology caused him to have a phobia. Wesley felt dizzy and everything around him had ghost images.

He couldn't help but want to take out the medicine bottle from his pocket, but was rudely interrupted by the man in black. The medicine also fell to the ground, and the white pills fell all over the floor.

"Get down!"

Wesley was pulled by the man in black's tie, and his body was involuntarily pulled down.

Then intensive gunfire rang out, and the cubicle where he worked was turned into a hornet's nest in an instant.

The dizzy Wesley couldn't care less.

He knelt on the ground, trying to pick up the pills on the ground and stuff them into his mouth.

But reality gave Wesley no chance to recover.

As the glass outside the window shattered, the addition of third-party forces made the gunfire even more intensive.

The third hotspot is located in another building, 50 meters away, and can accurately pour firepower on the target.

For a moment, bullets were flying like raindrops.

The entire office area seemed to have become a battlefield, and nothing was intact anymore.

Although the three gunmen were different from each other, they were able to shoot their pistols at the rate of fire of automatic rifles like animals.

In this dangerous hail of bullets, Wesley, who barely recovered, had no time to thank the man in black in front of him for protecting him.

I heard a scream and whine in my ears, someone was out.

Wesley couldn't help but look in the direction of the sound, and saw a handful of blood flowers slowly spreading on the wall.

His heart almost jumped into his throat.

At this moment, Wesley's headache became more severe and his vision became distorted.

The things in front of me were far and near, and my heart seemed to beat out of my chest.

This feeling is very bad!

Just when Wesley thought he was about to die, he saw the man in black raised his arm and slapped his face hard with his palm.

Suddenly, Wesley felt that everything around him was in slow motion.

He could see the trajectory of his palm falling, and he could see the palm prints on the palm of the man in black.

This sudden slowdown in relative speed made Wesley so sick that he wanted to vomit.

But the slap on the face woke him up with severe pain and broke him out of the state of phobia.

Wesley looked at the man in black who was reloading the pistol in front of him with a confused look on his face. Half of his face was numb, painful and burning.

There was still a smell of blood in his mouth, so his gums were probably bleeding.

He wanted to say thank you, but after touching his swollen cheeks, the two couldn't say anything.

At this time, I heard the man in black say: "Stay there and don't move."

Wesley quickly lay down and huddled under the office seat.

He saw the man in black half-crouching and leaning out with a tactical movement.

Then I heard a loud bang from the window and it burst open.

A figure smashed the tempered glass like a superman and rushed into the office area like a sharp sword.

Wesley didn't know how the man broke through the 13th-floor window from the outside, but seeing his ferocious look, he was extremely scared.

Instinctively, he rolled and crawled and hid behind the man in black.

He lowered his head, not daring to look at the middle-aged man who broke in.

Therefore, he did not see the complicated expression on the middle-aged man's face.

Soon the emotion on the middle-aged man's face became indifferent.

He held a gun and stood opposite the man in black who was slowly getting up.

Two people who have reached the top level in their respective fields are facing each other, and someone is going to die in the next moment.

In the deathly silence, the man in black was heard to speak first.

"cross?"

The middle-aged man listened with a calm expression on his face, but asked: "You are not from the Brotherhood, who are you? Why did you find him?"

The middle-aged man did not answer directly, but he accepted it as acquiescence.

Hearing this, the man in black lowered his arms, took his finger off the trigger, relaxed his guard, and expressed his sincerity.

At this time, Wesley, who was standing behind the man in black, realized that the man in black in front of him was turning sideways, and he had been pointing a gun vaguely at him with his other hand!

Looking at this scene, he couldn't help but widen his eyes, looking disillusioned and frustrated.

"My name is John Wick...and I'm a killer..."