Ultimate Assassin: Start as the sixth floor in the Continental Hotel

The door of the black car was loose. John knocked the driver's door open with a slight bump, and with a violent blow on the steering wheel, the passenger door was also thrown out with a flick. The wide open door seemed to be open. In the arms of the high-table killers, at the moment when he was about to be outflanked by the high-table killers, John stepped on the brakes. The relative speed difference made the high-table killers unable to react in time, and they crashed directly into John's two car doors!

"Bang~~~"

The car door was crushed, and the sharp iron sheet instantly punctured the wheels of the two high-table killer cars. But John actually turned the steering wheel, turned the front of the car, and drove directly on the circular road around the Arc de Triomphe! With his free right hand, he looked inside the suit and took out a grenade.

"Ding."

The grenade pull ring was easily removed by John's thumb. In front, a high-table killer was staring at John's vehicle with a cruel smile, while John responded with an indifferent expression. Both of them stepped on it at the same time. After pressing the accelerator, the two cars rushed toward each other like wrestling bulls!

Have you ever played bumper cars?

The two cars passed by while grazing each other. However, the driver turned the steering wheel sharply to one side, causing the car to swerve. The rear ends suddenly collided with each other, making a loud crash. John's black car was already overwhelmed and the front wheel exploded. The tires caused the vehicle to start to skid, and it swerved away in the distance. The high-table killer quickly turned the front of the car and wanted to pursue it, but his pupils suddenly shrank...

Because there seemed to be something reflecting light on the ground beside him, and it looked like a grenade.

The thing on the ground told him in the next second, be more confident and remove the image.

It's a grenade.

"boom!!!"

The violent explosion actually swallowed up all the passing vehicles, and the huge force even blew the burning vehicles away instantly! The flaming carriage hit the ground heavily, and then caused a series of explosions again!

Fireworks were set off around the Arc de Triomphe. No one knew what was going on. All they saw was a black car that was driving in the wrong direction around the Arc de Triomphe. Huge explosions blew up all the vehicles one after another. Then, the black car swayed. Walk away leisurely!

"Fake!"

The high-table killers who came to support saw the fireworks ignited around the Arc de Triomphe and screamed unwillingly, and John's vehicle passed through the area of ​​the Arc de Triomphe and entered the deep alleyway, never to be seen again.

"This performance is really bad..."

The African-American female announcer at WUXIA Radio in the Eiffel Tower curled her lips in dissatisfaction.

Upstairs, Grammont frowned and looked at the large sand table in front of him. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Grammont impatiently took out his phone and glanced at the unknown number.

"who are you?"

Grammont answered the phone and asked in a bad tone.

"The question you should ask is, how much should you pay." Trak's voice sounded slowly on the other end of the phone. At this time, our African-American friend gently opened the car door and stepped out of his small shabby car with his pet dog.

"Pay? What, are you confident in killing the Night Demon?" Grammont frowned as if he had been tricked, and asked coldly while suppressing his anger. "Stop joking, if you don't want to die."

"I mean, how much should you pay, so that I don't eliminate all the remaining influence you have in the Arc de Triomphe." Trak gently opened the trunk of the car, looked at the sea of ​​​​fire at the Arc de Triomphe not far away, and said with a chuckle. , "Actually, I am very short of money, so if you give me a good price, I will consider letting go of your gang of killers."

"I think you are just crazy." Grammont said coldly, "I am still in control of everything, so I advise you not to come here to make you unhappy. Otherwise, after the Night Demon is solved, I won't mind killing one more unknown person."

"Oh, really? Your Excellency, the Marquis de Gramont." Trak curled his lips in disappointment and took out a... well, that thing seemed to be an RPG from the trunk of the car.

Yes, RPG rocket launcher.

Trak is just a killer, and he knows nothing about monument protection laws.

"I feel that after tonight, you may no longer be a Marquis."

"Ha..." Grammont laughed angrily. "You're really not afraid of death, are you?"

"Surviving in this world, you will eventually die, sir, but I think you should still worry about whether your life will fall into the hands of Mr. John." Trak stuffed the huge rocket into the rocket launcher, some With great difficulty, he put the rocket launcher on his shoulder, aimed it, and locked it. "Do you like watching fireworks?"

The phone was hung up, and Grammont was confused by his meaningless words. Grammont looked at the screen of the phone in confusion. The next second, his pupils trembled. He seemed to have thought of something and looked sharply in the direction of the Arc de Triomphe.

Although it is not a nuclear warhead, the explosion caused by the RPG rocket launcher is indeed a small mushroom cloud.

"boom!!!"

Huge light and explosions enveloped the entire Charles de Gaulle Square, and our instigator, Trak, threw away the rocket launcher on his shoulder and took out a special rifle from the car.

"I don't want to either. Who makes you so stingy?" Trak shook his head helplessly, "It's the Marquis. It's not as generous as a beggar. Damn you."

In fact, Trak's remarks were inappropriate. After all, Marquis was just a title, and the beggar who hired him was the King of Beggars in New York.

The rifle was raised high, the muzzle pointed forward, and a cruel smile appeared on his dark face.

"You can make more money by traveling together than by doing tasks..."

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

The black car that entered the alley was abandoned on the side of the road. John held his painful shoulder and frowned slightly.

In the gunfight just now, even with the body armor produced by Yan Guo, his shoulders were turned purple and blue after being shot multiple times at close range.

However, the mere bruises were much less severe than the impact caused by the bullet that penetrated his body. John shook his numb arm, pulled out his pistol and stepped forward.

At the corner ahead, a violent light came on, and John suddenly stopped, with the muzzle of his gun pointing upwards, and stood quietly against the corner.

Several motorcycles came to John with the roar of their engines.

"Bang bang bang..."

Unfortunately, the motorcycle helmets worn by the High Table Assassins are not bulletproof.

Just when they stopped the car and prepared to search the area, John raised his gun and emptied the magazine in an instant. The motorcycle staggered without the support of the owner, and John threw the empty magazine on the ground. He took out the spare magazine from his pocket and reloaded it, lifted the motorcycle helmet on the head of the fallen high-table killer, and sent peace and tranquility to every killer who could still breathe.

A gunshot to the head, don't worry, it won't hurt.

At least, John didn't feel any pain.

John looked at the motorcycles on the ground, picked one that was relatively intact, moved the dead bodies around, got on the motorcycle, turned the front of the motorcycle towards District 8, and turned the accelerator...

A ride to the dust.