Long-term salvation

After waiting for half a minute, the jackal, not noticing anything unusual, turned around and entered Hill Villa.

After waiting for a few more seconds, the jackal, having heard no sound, walked deeper into the mansion, completely unaware of the human face emerging from the wall... When the killer walked away, the face floated out of the wall and slowly followed behind him.

After walking a few steps in the villa, the jackal felt an inexplicable chill! In just a few seconds, the temperature dropped to the point where he could exhale white air. The coldness crawled through his trachea into his lungs, almost freezing them completely.

Suddenly, the jackal heard the dull sound of a crutch hitting the floor behind him. When he drew his gun and turned around, he only saw his own shadow imprinted on the wall, falling on the exquisitely crafted sculptures and murals.

The figures in the statues and murals are all smiling, looking at the jackal standing there in fear!

The moonlight filtered through the glass and the slightly swaying curtains, casting colorful shadows in the corridor. Those spots of light that should have been like peacock tail feathers now looked like countless eyes.

The jackal's heart sank, and he decided to give up his plan of infiltration and evacuate the place - but a beam of light flashed from the end of the corridor, and then tiny whispers sounded in the killer's mind, screaming, cursing, roaring... In an instant, all these sounds disappeared without a trace - two ghostly heads rested on the jackal's shoulders, giggling strangely.

Supernatural blood flowed down the killer's body, soaking his chest, but in the next second it gathered into several hands, tightly strangling the neck of this warm body!

The most real feeling of suffocation suddenly blocked the jackal's thoughts, and what followed was the oldest and strongest emotion of mankind - fear - fear turned into anger, and anger brought power!

Without hesitation, the jackal drew his dagger, slashed through the hand in front of him, and rolled backwards. He raised his gun and fired two shots at the two translucent bodies! However, the bullets slowly lodged in their bodies, like steel nails driven into their spines.

Before the bullet could spin a few times and hit the thick carpet, the jackal had already taken off running.

His intuition told him that there was an "anomaly" here, a surreal, supernatural "anomaly"... Perhaps it could be explained by Atlas' latest technology, but the Jackal clearly understood that this was not the case:

Are you kidding me? This place is really a haunted house! Why would anyone choose to live here?

Just as the jackal was running quickly across the corridor, ready to jump out of the window at the end, he caught a glimpse of a flash of light from the corner of his eye - it was the silencer of a pistol illuminated by the moonlight!

The jackal's body quickly dropped, his left foot abruptly stopping as he bent his knee, gathering momentum, and retreated backward. A bullet then grazed his night vision goggles, shattering them.

Enduring the pain in his left leg, the Jackal rolled to the wall, gasping for breath as he shed the remains of his night vision goggles. His pistol wasn't pointed at the enemy, but rather at the corridor he'd come from—the entire corridor twisted and stretched, the moonlight filtering through it gradually becoming hazy.

This is not a good place to go.

Gritting his teeth, the Jackal stood up straight, pulled out a smoke bomb, and threw it backhanded into the corridor. Three seconds after the canister made a hissing sound, the killer rushed out from the wall that served as cover and rushed towards the enemy who was shooting at him with a pistol... At least he could understand the concept of pistols and bullets.

As soon as he rushed out of the smoke, the jackal saw a fist slowly enlarging in front of him, and the pistol he raised was blocked by the opponent.

The jackal took a step back with his right leg, letting his body lean back naturally to avoid the heavy blow, and the next second, the jackal retracted his left leg and kicked hard on the opponent's rapidly approaching body in an attempt to create distance, while at the same time turning his wrist, he fired several shots at the figure!

The bullet chased the hem of John Wick's suit and penetrated the wall of Hill House, splashing a little dust.

"Um..."

Looking at the young man before him, John thought of his younger self, and the legendary bald killer he often heard about in the ICA—what was he doing now? He must be serving that boss—collecting these thoughts, John exhaled slowly, adjusted his stance, and prepared to continue his attack:

[Capture]

This was a request from the BOSS, and John Wick would naturally not disobey the new boss's request. What's more, the other party also provided him with a highly effective anesthetic bullet called "Frigga Bullet" to prevent him from being tied up in battle and killed - the young man on the opposite side would not show mercy!

The two top killers then engaged in a fierce battle in the corridor of Hill Villa. John's movements were more steady, while the jackal was more swift.

Two figures suddenly jumped up at the same time with the crisp sound of bullet casings falling to the ground.

The butt of the Jackal's pistol smashed into the opponent's Adam's apple, but the opponent's raised arm pushed his wrist away. He then bent his knees and pushed towards the enemy's abdomen, but his knees hit the hard bulletproof vest. Taking advantage of the former's half-second of hesitation, John grabbed the young killer's collar with his backhand and slammed him against the corridor window. The sound of shattering glass and the pain of sharp fragments piercing the back of his neck made the Jackal utter a low roar. He rushed forward with his forehead but missed.

John seized the man's collar and threw him mercilessly over his shoulder, sending him crashing down to the corner of the wall and the ground. Hearing the dull thud of his head hitting the thick, hard carpet, he was about to raise his gun when he saw the muzzle of the gun had already deflected towards him!

The hot bullet grazed John's ear and left several ugly holes in the corridor ceiling.

The jackal, having managed to survive, rolled to the side and fired two more shots at John - the bullets hit the chest and side of the dodging John respectively, but nothing happened. Instead, the twisted and deformed bullets fell to the ground, flickering like fireflies in the moonlight coming in from the window.

Jackal: "...Fvck!"

"Atlas technology, boy," John sneered.

"Damn it..." The jackal gasped, raising his gun and aiming it at John, who also raised his gun. "Who the hell are you... No... What the hell is in this damn house?"

As a top assassin whose signature tactic was ultra-long-range sniping, the Jackal possessed patience and intelligence far surpassing that of ordinary men. However, at this moment, he was already being affected by the supernatural power of the mansion itself, provoked by the life-or-death struggle he had just endured—he was losing his mind, which was bad news for a killer.

The thought of continuing to fight did not stay in the jackal's mind for even a second. He had to escape immediately and not get entangled.

"Only that person can answer your question," John said calmly, mentally counting the number of bullets remaining in his magazine. "I'm only settling matters between the two of us now... Do you want to shoot?"

Should we shoot or surrender?

Chapter 352 Welcome to the Real World (2/3)

The Jackal didn't reply with words, he had already pulled the trigger.

Only one shot, only one left.

The bullet grazed the opponent's cheek. This older enemy was no less skilled than himself. If it weren't for the bulletproof vest and the suit that might have bulletproof effect, this battle would probably have ended earlier... Thinking of this, the jackal ran towards the broken window.

What should he do after jumping out of the window? The jackal didn't know, but staying here would definitely mean death.

Before the sound of the bullet passing through the barrel and the silencer reached his ears, a slight pain came from his neck, causing a slight surprise to flash through the jackal's mind:

The bet was lost, but it didn't feel like being hit by a bullet.

But then the dim darkness came from all directions, completely occupying the jackal's vision, making the broken window in front of him farther and farther away - or should I say, closer and closer?

The jackal fell downwards.

The killer could feel himself falling, falling out of the broken window, weaving through colorful dots of light. He saw the distorted light and shadows, and the rapidly receding Hill Manor, but the next second, he was back in the latter's body.

With a dull pain, the jackal fell to the ceiling of the corridor of Hill Villa, and below him was his own corpse looking back at him.

The corpse stood up, rubbed the bloody hole on his forehead, and said with a smile:

"I am Charles Calthrop from now on. Goodbye, Jackal. Goodbye, Alex Dugan—everything you have is mine—home, fortune, life."

"Do not……"

"You will remain in this mansion, just like the ghosts."

The ghosts looked up with strange welcoming smiles on their faces. Among them were even his comrades in the army who had been killed by the jackal. These people were killed by the jackal himself with bombs because they massacred innocent people. But now those broken bodies were roughly sewn together and stood before him. Hill Villa easily dug out the darkness in the jackal's heart, twisted it, and turned it into its own food.

"No... Where on earth is this place... No no no!!!" The jackal finally screamed for the first time in his life. He tried to lift his body, but was firmly fixed in place. He could only watch in vain as those chaotic and strange ghosts left the corridor.

More bizarre scenes then slowly unfolded before the jackal: steel battleships, blazing machinery, angels and demons with halos above their heads, wriggling darkness, gaping gates to the stars, pieces of flesh with black whip-like tentacles... In the end, all of this froze on the blazing sun.

The sun said:

Welcome to the real world.

"!!!"

The jackal woke up from his dream and found himself lying in a study, with a sofa, a coffee table and a bookshelf beside him. At the back of the room was a desk, and the target... the silver-haired man called "Rhodes" was sitting behind the desk, casting a playful glance at him from between the documents and books piled on both sides - he was indeed young and handsome, but he was wearing a strange eye patch.

Two girls stood on the left and right, one with silver hair and purple eyes, the other with black hair and red eyes.

Noah and Nikki D were looking at the young killer on the ground with indifference. They would not have a good attitude towards such a guy who tried to kill the people they loved.

"Here... my... my head..."

The jackal tried hard to raise his head, but saw the halo above the head of the silver-haired girl next to the man. The killer tried to ignore the illusion he had just seen, but those horrible memories were deeply engraved in his mind, constantly stinging his nerves, telling him that angels exist and everything that happened just now was real.

Alcohol? Hallucinogenic drugs? Neurotoxins? None of those things, the Jackal, a former British Army soldier, was certain of.

When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how incredible, must be the truth.

"Well, Mr. Newt Scamander, your wand and the suitcase full of magical creatures have been confiscated. You'd better behave yourself," Rhodes said, tapping the table with his hand. "I hope you can be like Marius Pontmercy in Les Miserables, a passionate young man willing to fight for his ideals."

“…I don’t know these people you’re talking about.”

"Of course you don't know him! Freckles, I just made up these names."

Jackal: “…”

Looking at the still bewildered face, Rhodes smiled slightly. He had never expected that this boy would be able to see something deeper after entering Hill Villa - the true nature of the girls living in the villa - after realizing this, Rhodes removed his disguise of the other world, wanting to see how far the jackal, who also had clairvoyance, could go.

As for the results, Rhodes was very satisfied:

"I originally just wanted to recruit you as a member of the Army Without Borders. After all, you are not an absolute villain. But now, you have a better place... Mr. John Wicker, you have company. This is a top sniper."

Hearing this, John sighed, walked out from the shadows of the room, looked at the jackal, and said slowly:

"I'm not used to traveling with others, but I don't mind. You'd better explain to him what he will face next."

"of course."

Rhodes stood up, walked around the desk and went to the jackal who was slowly getting up from the ground. The flaming sword in his hand flashed and instantly melted a small dagger at the latter's waist - even the jackal's fingers were burned, leaving an ugly burn mark.

"Do you like the little bit of hope I left for you? This is just a proof, in case you think you haven't woken up yet." Rhodes reached out and patted the jackal's shoulder. Looking at the latter's stiff face, he smiled and said, "Sit down, jackal. Or should I call you Alex or Charles or something, but I want to use a simpler name."

After spending nearly half an hour narrating and dragging the jackal back into the dream as proof, the latter, surrounded by a group of ghosts, finally collapsed and screamed:

"Get these bastards away! I already said I believed it!"

"Oh, sorry, many people will choose to resist even when faced with the facts, and even make up excuses for themselves."

Rhode shrugged and watched Abigail and Asuka Iki release the young killer. Facing their helpless yet slightly fearful gazes, he continued:

"After you decided to accept the contract, your message arrived at my desk a few minutes later. Don't do those meaningless things, or do you really like your job as a killer? You don't want your wife to find out, do you, Mr. Jackal?"

"..."

"That's right," Rhodes nodded with satisfaction. "How about this, how much did they pay you to kill me?"

"Sixty million dollars, but only five million for intelligence gathering... Well, five million is indeed a lot for me," the Jackal answered honestly. Not only had Rhode put his arm around his shoulders and talked about the other world, but they had also discussed marriage and family issues—what discussion? That was basically a threat! He had absolutely no privacy in front of this man!

"In that case, I'll give you $30 million. Kill every single one of the people who gave you this mission, and then report back to me. I'll give you a better job—saving the world in the name of a 'necessary evil.' How do you do that?"

After a brief thought... the jackal gave up thinking. He couldn't think of a better option than agreeing, so he could only smile bitterly and nodded.

"It looks like I have no other choice, but can I ask a question?"

"Please, I have nothing to hide except private and confidential matters."

"You're talking about...some clairvoyants? How many of them are like me?" The jackal exhaled slowly, asking nervously. "It's not that I want to pry into secrets, but I have some concerns."

Faced with such a cruel world, will his wife and especially his newborn child see those real nightmares?

"First, theoretically speaking, we don't have enough evidence to demonstrate the existence patterns of 'clairvoyants' or to categorize them into specific levels. The reason a person possesses clairvoyance could be due to an undiscovered recessive gene fragment or external factors."

Rhodes did not hide or change the subject, but told the whole story seriously:

"However, there is only one thing that is certain: as the [Tide of the Otherworld] rises, the number of clairvoyants in human civilization will only increase... Perhaps one day in the future, all of humanity will become clairvoyants."

Chapter 353: Bad News from Africa (3/3)

D left with John Wick and the somewhat dazed Jackal. The latter still needed to be observed for a period of time, and then he would need to enter Miskatonic University to study like his predecessors. It would take an estimated six months to a year to officially start the mission.

It's a little slow, but worth the wait, and there aren't as many "witchcraft bacon" for them to kill now.

Feeling a bit like scolding himself, Rhode quickly threw these messy thoughts into his mind, yawned and said to Noah incoherently:

"So, what news does the great Miss Noah have for me?"

At this moment, only Rhodes and Noria were left in the study. The latter had just returned with intelligence yesterday and had not even sent the intelligence documents to Hill Villa in advance. It was obvious that there was something important.

"I've seen the low-hanging sun, tinged with mysterious terror, illuminating the stagnant purple sky (from 'The Drunken Boat') - There's a riot going on in East Africa, targeting the Atlas Corporation, but it's generally under control, and the Army Without Borders we've deployed there is no pushover."

Noah whispered, her fingers sliding across the edge of the pile of documents on the desk, taking out a document from it, opening it, placing it in front of Rhodes and explaining:

"It's just that the intertwining of so many forces is a bit troublesome, and the future situation is hard to predict. Right now, mercenaries, peacekeeping forces, and tribal armed groups are fighting all the time... The United States, the French, Ethiopia, local warlords, the Gulf Cooperation Council, and other unknown forces, even the British have gotten involved."

"Britain has considerable influence in Somalia, and they love doing things that are thankless and disgusting to others. Please describe the situation there in detail."

The smile on Rhodes' face faded. Somalia was the area he had chosen for absolute control, and it was also the destination for all units of the Army Without Borders to be transferred out of the United States in the future.

The central base in Somalia, together with the New Antioch Zone, will form a clamp on the Middle East and radiate to Europe, all of Africa, South Asia and Southeast Asia... The most important thing is to supervise areas where no one is in charge and the government has weak control, to prevent big news from breaking out in places like Central Africa one day.

For this reason, the Army Without Borders will also set up bases of different levels in different continents.

"After the collapse of the previous Somali government, warlords immediately erupted within Somalia. However, after Atlas Corporation intervened, most of the small and medium-sized warlords were eliminated. Only the Somaliland region and the warlord controlling the area around Mogadishu remained. Mohammed Farah Aidid was the most powerful and completely controlled the capital. The other cities were basically controlled by Atlas Corporation, and large-scale infrastructure construction and immigration activities were initiated at the same time."

Noah followed his memory and summarized the contents of the intelligence document in front of Rhodes, then whispered:

"Mogadishu is now a huge powder keg, filled with Somalis pouring in from all over the place... Most of them were lured there by Aidid, who relies on the support of some unknown forces and UN refugee relief food to maintain his regime."

The girl said, then stood up to make Rhodes a cup of coffee. After searching for instant coffee, she couldn't find any, so she gave up. She turned around and saw Rhodes frowning.

"I thought Aidid also had supporters from the United States," Rhode said, his face tense, a rare irritation evident. "I don't think they'll sit back and watch Atlas Corporation grow, especially now that the two sides are slowly disengaging."

Hearing Rhode's words, Noah spread his hands and said helplessly:

"But haven't they still not completely broken away? According to feedback from frontline agents, Somalis in Mogadishu believe that Atlas Corporation and the United States are one and the same, and are the masterminds behind the secession and oppression of Somalis... They believe that they are expanding the territory for the white people and squeezing out the living space of the Somalis. This is clearly Aidid's propaganda and connivance."

"Besides the influence of Atlas Corporation, the United Nations hopes to disarm the various factions and establish a Western-style central government. This is clearly not what Aidid and the remaining tribal armed leaders want to see. After all, who would want to hand over power and weapons?"