Ke Xue: I picked up a bottle of sherry at the beginning.

Have fun with them. This is what happens to anyone who dares to disobey the police!

She expanded the scope of responsibility to all members of the police force while driving left and right, spraying more canine hormones.

Hey, get out here! I won't let you go!

A large, extremely vulgar man, full of energy, rushed to the Mercedes-Benz, shouting and yelling, but was sprayed with a hormone solution all over his face. In an instant, sheepdogs and greyhounds enthusiastically pounced on him and pulled him to the grass. The barking of dogs and the screams of people mixed together.

Okay, get off.

The Mercedes-Benz stopped, and the four of us jumped out from the four doors. The enemy immediately noticed our actions and shouted murderously:

Kill them!

No, we can't let those women get hurt. This is a strict order from above. We have to capture them alive!

Can men be killed?

No, you can't kill him. Hit his hands and feet.

Even I must have had a sardonic smile on my face. If they didn't kill the enemy, but instead targeted their hands and feet to deprive them of their fighting power, this tactic should be quite effective. But, was I going to let them chop me down for nothing? The private soldiers the Routledge family had raised had already killed many people both domestically and internationally. How could they lack even a modicum of common sense?

Perhaps they don't want to create unnecessary friction with the Japanese government. That's how I explain it to myself for now. Regardless, I must capitalize on this situation to my advantage.

Ryoko had already acted in this way.

The crisp cracks of Browning rifles rang out in succession, and two men fell to the ground in the bushes, groaning in pain, one clutching his right arm, the other hugging his left knee.

The third man roared, poised to lunge at Ryoko. I held the Beretta with both hands, lowered the muzzle, and pulled the trigger. A slight recoil sent a splatter of blood splattering across the man's knee, and he fell to the ground with a scream. After striking the fourth man in the wrist, Ryoko looked at me with a relaxed smile.

Now I'll leave it to Marian and Lucien. Let's go!

Thirty seconds later, in front of the thicket, Melara Routledge and Dr. Mosha were facing each other right in front of us.

If a person is killed, he will die.

Sorry for keeping you waiting all night without visiting us. We were busy sleeping soundly, oh hehehe...

Ryoko is multi-talented, one of which is particularly outstanding: she can make people hate her with just one sentence, and she does it in English at the level of a BBC announcer.

Mela glared at her fiercely, dark circles visible under her eyes. She had indeed waited all night. She leaned against the silver stretch limousine, wearing a light green summer suit. Dr. Mosha was still wearing his slightly stained white coat.

Looking over to the car, I couldn't help but sigh softly.

The black coffin, the heavy, ominous rectangular wooden box, was Artemisia lying in it, wasn't it? The body scorched by the flames lay in it.

Of course, Ryoko also noticed the presence of the coffin, and she glared at Dr. Mosha with a blaming look:

Don't you want to dissect the body?

There's no need to do that. It's not a case. Dr. Mosha curled his lips in a strangely humble manner.

Your very existence is a crime. Even if you're not sentenced to death, there's nothing wrong with being imprisoned for three centuries.

The dozen male bodyguards flanking Meira and Dr. Mosa stared silently at Ryoko and me from behind their sunglasses. The pressure was palpable, almost like a tangible weight, yet Ryoko remained unfazed. Please, this isn't the time to rely solely on courage to intimidate those bodyguards.

I saw it a long time ago. You're waiting for a helicopter to pick you up. Before you sneak away, you should pay what you owe Quan Yijun, right? Ten billion dollars in compensation, take it out now!

Do you really want compensation?

Hey, in the US, wouldn't you demand $27 billion in damages from a coffee shop if you burned your mouth? So-called punitive damages are actually approved by the courts. For things like car accidents, kidnapping, and imprisonment, asking for a relatively small amount is perfectly normal.

It's too late to ask for compensation. Considering Artemisia's lonely death, I really don't want to ask for money.

Well, if you think 10 billion is too much, let's split it in half.

Half and half?

You and I each have 5 billion, right? We'll split it fairly between us.

What is just right, what is fair.

Mela spoke for the first time:

It was Artemisia who knocked that man down. Since she's dead, I'm not responsible. However, if you absolutely must have money, you can ask for it through a lawyer later.

You can’t not give it now, because you will have no future.

Hearing Ryoko's declaration of war, Meira narrowed her eyes. Her pupils, half hidden behind her eyelids, took on a hollow luster like glass balls.

Artemisia was a truly troublesome girl. She failed to fulfill her obligations, failed to repay her mother's kindness, and was of no use to anyone. She died without a trace. Her life had no meaning, and her life itself was worthless.

I had never heard of such a cold and heartless epitaph. I was speechless and stared at the middle-aged woman who was proud of her beauty and huge wealth.

Is Artemisia's obligation, as you say, to accept your brain transplant and transfer her body to you?

Unexpectedly stabbed by the sharp blade of questioning, Meira remained calm. Regardless of right or wrong, good or evil, this woman was indeed no ordinary person.

A gust of wind blew, and the shadows of clouds drifted across the ground. As if to see through Meila, Ryoko fixed her sharp eyes on her and said in an equally sharp voice:

What nonsense is this about brain transplants? Do you think it's really possible?

Of course it's possible.

Meera's assertion was full of confidence.

It can be done with Dr. Mosha.

How could this fake doctor possibly perform such advanced surgery? He was a serial pedophile who also preached that abortion was a sin against God and incited the religious right to kill doctors who performed abortions, resulting in the deaths of five people.

Dr. Mosha is an apostle of God.

Is that you, God?

Ryoko laughed contemptuously. Before Meila could reply, Ryoko continued her attack without mercy:

Humph, anyway, brain transplants are out of the question. The person your rotting brain was about to be transplanted into committed suicide the day before yesterday.

You mean Artemisia?

Who else? I think that dinosaur girl should just kill your hateful mother instead of committing suicide. However, as a last resort, throwing yourself into the fire and completely destroying the old woman's delusion is not bad either.

The corners of Meila's lips twisted upwards. In contrast, Ryoko frowned slightly.

Please stop laughing so disgustingly.

Do you think I'm hopeless now that Artemisia is dead, little girl?

Of course. It's not because Dinosaur Girl died, but because of her burned body. You must be heartbroken, right? Now don't be so stubborn.

What does it matter what happens to Artemisia?

Meera said that wasn't a show of strength, but her true feelings. Realizing this, I managed to suppress the urge to vomit.

All you need is a young, beautiful and healthy body, for example, your body will do.

Meira pointed at Ryoko, dark red flames blazing in her eyes, like a furnace in hell. An invisible, cold, heavy curtain seemed to descend around us, and the sounds of gunfire and barking faded away.

I'm going back to the United States soon, and before I leave, I have to get your body. I thought I could have settled this last night, but you didn't come, so I have to wait until now.

That's a shame. Unfortunately, I tend to be a daytime person. I don't want you to worry about wrinkles from UV rays.

As if she hadn't heard Ryoko's words, Meila took a half step forward.

Ah, such fine skin. Smooth as the finest white satin, radiant with richness and rosiness, a rosy glow. A truly flawless body. You don't deserve such a beautiful body. Only I, the wonderful Melara Rotelli, am worthy. I need a brain transplant. Only a very noble soul could inhabit this body.

You really are a dreamer, you perverted old woman!

Shut up! A soul as evil, violent, selfish, willful and shameless as you is not worthy of such a beautiful body. Give me your body. If I can get a body like this, my trip to this border island country will not be in vain.

The first half was quite convincing, but the second half was simply shocking and disgusting. I trembled with anger and gripped my Beretta tightly. The black-clad bodyguards reacted. After all, we couldn't act rashly.

Humph, I was wondering why you were dawdling, so this is why you're doing this. Boring.

I saw Dr. Mosha clicking his tongue, as if he hadn't expected Mela's obsession with Ryoko's beautiful body.

The helicopter is coming. I thought you called a large twin-engine helicopter specifically for the coffin, but it turns out you're calling for this little girl.

The coffin is no longer useful, so just leave it here. Take this little girl away.

Don't be impatient, Mela, calm down. Otherwise, you will be led around by the nose by this little girl.

Ignoring Dr. Mosha's admonition, Meira took another half step closer to Ryoko.

It's true, like mother, like daughter. Is there no rationality in this family?

Dr. Mosha's curse irritated me, and I asked loudly without thinking:

Wait, isn't Artemisia a clone of Mera?

Humph, so what.

Who is her father?

Want to know?

I don't want to hit the wrong person.

Qin Xuan told a poor joke. Dr. Mosha seemed to take it equally seriously, baring his front teeth in a disdainful smile and answering his question:

His name isn't even worth knowing; he's just a boring guy. There are tens of thousands of guys like him in America. No, there are countless of them in France, Japan, India, and China. He's a genius only when he makes excuses for his failures; he's incapable of anything but complaining about successful people. He boasts about rewriting history, but he's just a gigolo. Humph, he's just got a pretty face.

Dr. Mosha smiled maliciously. What surprised Qin Xuan wasn't his words, but Mela's attitude. Dr. Mosha's words were probably Mela's most unpleasant memory, but her eyes shone like illusory glass balls, and she didn't raise any objections.

Meira won't listen. No, she can't hear anything at all. Meira mentally blocks all negative information and erases unpleasant memories. Humph, it's impossible to completely block it out, but to Meira right now, what I just said is like no one else's business.

Although Ryoko was confronting Mela, she was also listening attentively to Dr. Mosha's words. Mosha noticed this and spoke to Ryoko instead of me:

Mela's pride wouldn't let her face reality. The Routledge daughter, known for her talent and beauty, had a child with a broke, scoundrel. It was simply impossible, and it couldn't happen. That was it.

Ryoko didn't even look at Mosha and joined the conversation:

So, to make sense of it, Mela would rather believe that her child had no father. To deceive herself and the world, she came up with this nonsense about the genetics factory.

That's right.

Rather than acting as if nothing had happened, Dr. Mosha seemed to be enjoying it, as if his heartless and perverted interests had been completely satisfied.

So, where is Artemisia's father now?

Who knows? That person's soul must be wandering somewhere even lower than the depths of purgatory.

Did you kill him?

Qin Xuan asked deliberately, hoping to get them to admit to the murder. Dr. Mosha smiled silently, not falling for his trick.

I don't know. Ask Mela.

No need to ask. Mela is using your help to eliminate all those who shouldn't be alive. Is it the same for her father, Inhofe?

Did Meila also kill her father? Mosha responded to this strong accusation with a sneer. It seemed that Ryoko was right.

You can talk all you want about cloning technology, but how did you trick people with DNA?

Is there anything unclear about this?

You showed them Mela's DNA as Artemisia's, didn't you? You're the only doctor Mela trusts anyway.

Dr. Mosha nodded with a smug look on his face.

Simple is best. The more advanced people think they are, the more likely they are to fall into the trap of tradition.

Ah, no wonder the US military is weakest in traditional urban combat. Dr. Mosa, even though you're the worst doctor and the worst scientist, you're actually a pretty good liar. You have no knowledge or skills, but you're not scamming the poor, but you're scamming the rich. That alone is commendable.

Using Dr. Mosha, Mera murdered both her own father, Inhofe, and Artemisia's father. Mera inherited her father's wealth, power, and delusions. As an accomplice, Dr. Mosha controlled Mera, and through her, the UFA Empire. From that moment on, their criminal activities escalated. This is roughly how it went. Dr. Mosha was not Mera's lover. He wasn't handsome, unworthy of her. Mera always fell for beautiful, empty-headed men, time and again.

The other guy who seduced Mela was an idiot man who only had a pretty face.

Dr. Mosha told us enthusiastically:

He claimed to be a British earl, had a castle in Cornwall, and was also a vice admiral in the navy and an outstanding agent of the secret intelligence department.

It's such a mess, even female middle school students wouldn't be fooled.

Meera took the bait.

Isn’t that too childish?

Mela's intelligence is by no means low, but mentally she always looks like a girl who is still in a dream.

That would be too much of a glorification of her. Even if she did dream, her dreams would still be filled with miasma and stench.

Call her what you will. Beautiful or ugly, she always had a dream. I don't need to tell you what Meera would do to that man if her dream was shattered.

How many people have these two murdered so far? No, dozens?

However, her father was a handsome man and a tyrant at home, which caused problems in the process of her personality formation.

So, you're saying that someone who was abused by their father has the right to kill people at will? She used heavy makeup to cover herself up, but you have the nerve to say this?