Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

"What?" Tim couldn't understand. "Why did this happen out of nowhere..."

"This idiot... can't even manage his own men. Of all people to mess with, he had to provoke 'Old Man'! Is he someone you can mess with? The Illuminati, a foreign organization, has expanded to its current territory entirely thanks to this old monster, who fought his way up bit by bit."

Ryan covered his head, almost pulling out his hair. It was clear that the blow and pressure from this incident were far greater than the previous clumps of hair combined.

"I don't know how he did it, but my father went on a killing spree in the military camp, killing more than 300 people and almost wiping out four companies! The declaration of war was something he did behind the Illuminati's back, and now they've really driven them to the brink of despair..."

"If we fail to take down the tall tree, or if anything goes wrong, the Illuminati will tear us apart alive!"

……

“Mr. Chaidl,” Tim said after a long silence, “if we could get that mushroom farmer to speed up the mass production of this medicine, so that all of our own people could become…”

"I just warned you not to say things like that!" Ryan's expression suddenly changed, and he said fiercely.

"Don't keep threatening to overturn the table until you're absolutely sure. All your thoughts will unconsciously show in your actions. Do you think people are stupid and can't see through you?"

Ryan took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, then emphasized, "Anyway, everything remains the same. Help me write a letter, under the guise of condolence, and send it to the front lines, to Jarworth."

"Make it clear to him: from now on, there is no room for retreat."

"He must win this battle against Gao Shu!"

Chapter 674: I won't go in, let him come out!

A light drizzle began to fall from the sky. The group walked up a small hill and, taking advantage of the terrain, looked down at the Chedel crude oil refinery not far away.

Although it is called a "factory", its area is far from that of a factory building, but rather resembles a small trading post.

It was situated beside the railway, symbolically enclosed by a wooden fence. In addition to the factory buildings, there were distillation towers, oil tanks, refined oil warehouses, and workers' sheds. A watchtower stood in the center of the factory, guarded by a dedicated person and lit up. Six flatbed carts were parked next to the stables, ready to be filled with refined oil and transported to nearby places in need for temporary transactions.

“Every now and then a horse-drawn carriage would come in from outside, carrying some chemical raw materials to refine impurities in crude oil or other things. The carriages came and went frequently, and at most the person at the door would just glance at their face, but the goods inside the carriages were not inspected.”

Angel Eyes rummaged in his trench coat pocket as he said, "Last time, I just crawled into the back of a wide-roofed carriage and sneaked into the factory. After changing into a worker's uniform, I could move around freely in the factory."

"So you can change clothes, huh?" Mike glared at him with his dead fish eyes and complained. "I thought you could sneak in wearing this black trench coat and that cool top hat. That would be too unreasonable."

"Where are your eyes?" Xiaomei asked a more practical question, but because of the scars on her face, she spoke cautiously when discussing topics related to physical characteristics, "You...you don't misunderstand, I didn't mean anything by it, I meant..."

"Will not."

Angel Eyes stated in a calm, factual tone, "Chedell treats his employees quite harshly, and the workload alone is already very high."

"Under such high-pressure work conditions, no one has the energy to look up and pay attention to the eye color of a passerby who brushes past them. I just need to lower my head, avoid eye contact with anyone, and pretend to be very busy, and I'll be fine."

He took a sketch out of his pocket, a reward for his superb infiltration skills.

The drawing is in pencil sketch style, depicting a tightly closed vault door.

"If Alana were here, that would be great." Zhang Renfeng frowned as he looked at the several large padlocks on the painting. "Does any of you know how to open these things?"

“Why not just use brute force?” Mike had spent the most time with Zhang Renfeng and knew his physical abilities best. “With your strength, you could easily break this iron door by pulling out something.”

“That’s something the ‘Red Center’ would do,” Zhang Renfeng shook his head. “Don’t do it unless absolutely necessary.”

“Then we’ll just have to blow it up.” Xiaomei began to take stock of the big equipment she had brought on this trip. “Do we still have some high-explosive bullets and incendiary bullets? According to Mr. Theon, most metals will deform under high temperatures.”

……

high temperature?

In a flash, Zhang Renfeng grasped the key word, his thoughts began to wander, and he finally noticed their current location.

An oil refinery.

"Why do we have to break in?" Zhang Renfeng looked at the distillation tower not far away and narrowed his eyes. "Wouldn't it be more convenient to make him come out on his own?"

……

Once the specific tactics were decided, everyone began to divide the tasks and prepare for the upcoming hostage situation.

Zhang Renfeng infiltrated the factory, waiting for his opportunity to kidnap Ryan Childer. Even disregarding his skills, only he could do this job, because of the five men, only he had actually seen Ryan and knew what he looked like.

Angel Eye, as always, infiltrated the factory, took up a high vantage point, and provided long-range sniping support. He was like the team's fuse; under normal circumstances, he wasn't needed.

The remaining three—Mike, Xiaomei, and Eagle—were responsible for the most crucial role in this hijacking plan—making a scene. To support this operation, Zhang Renfeng gave them his incendiary bullets and high-explosive rounds. At this moment, they were on a nearby hill, loading these special bullets into rifles one by one.

"Are you alright?" Mike asked, his hands still busy. "I don't know how your tribe fights, but when the fighting starts, you'd better not have too many random thoughts in your mind. We have to draw fire for those two, which means there's a high chance of a firefight."

"Bullets love to hit those who hesitate, do you understand, Your Highness?"

“I am not a prince,” Flying Eagle said irritably.

“Mr. Flying Eagle, please don’t mind him.” Taking advantage of her young age, Xiaomei acted as a mediator between the two adults. “He means…”

“I know what he means.” Flying Eagle interrupted her somewhat rudely, but then showed a hint of apology, “I’m sorry, that carriage ride just now kept me on my mind. I didn’t really listen to what you were saying.”

"A carriage?" Mike keenly sensed something was amiss. "What carriage?"

"Just now, didn't a wide-canopied carriage drive by on the path beside the hill? Your heterochromatic-eyed assassin said that goods are often transported to the factory, and last time he hid in the carriage and sneaked in, blah blah blah..."

Flying Eagle's expression was very serious. "I was closest to the intersection. When the carriage passed us, I smelled it. It was definitely not factory goods, but fresh animal flesh and blood, probably still with the bones intact. And there was a lot of it, a whole carriage full!"

"Huh?" Mike's expression turned confused.

"Mr. Eagle, are you sure? Is it possible... that you... made a mistake?" Xiaomei had the same reaction as Mike, unable to believe it.

What's the purpose of a truckload of raw meat being transported to an oil refinery in the dead of night when you can't see your hand in front of your face? It can't be Ryan's midnight snack, can it? No matter how rich he is, his stomach is only so big. Can he swallow a whole truckload of raw meat?

"The Gaoshu tribe lives by hunting, and I know the smell of animal flesh and blood better than anyone else. There's no way I could be wrong. That cart just now was loaded with either mutton or beef."

Flying Eagle even revealed the source of the meat, his brow furrowed. "But I don't understand, with so much raw meat being transported here, are they all going to be cooked? In this weather, even good meat would rot after a few days..."

……

"Don't think about that anymore." Mike loaded the last bullet into the chamber and said in a deep voice, "Whether it's rotten or not has nothing to do with the upcoming battle plan. After the battle, even if you want to haul that truckload of meat back to Tall Tree to use as military rations, it's no problem."

He handed the fully loaded rifle to Eagle, saying, "Now, let's get on with what's in front of us."

Chapter 675: Even a dog wants to join the table and share the food?

"Clap!"

A rare lamb rib slammed into the iron basin, splattering blood. The driver who had brought them all the way here wore a somewhat apprehensive expression. It was as if the man standing before him was no longer human, but some other "thing" in human skin. After all, no normal human being would bring in several large basins of bloody animal meat in the middle of the night. The next morning, only a few empty basins remained in the room, along with a few tough bones to chew.

Where did the meat go?

Common sense can no longer explain this; either he used it as material for performing witchcraft, or he ate it.

Either way, it was enough to make the driver's eyes fill with terror, and his voice tremble.

“Tim…sir…this is the meat for tonight…”

Tim remained silent, leaned down, and gently sniffed the metal basin filled with raw meat. He then frowned and said angrily, "Didn't I tell your boss I wanted fresh meat slaughtered today? How dare you try to fool me with this stuff? Are you looking for death?!"

"Has your boss forgotten that there are so many meat slaughterhouses in the entire New Elizabeth state, how come only this guy can stand out? He even has to compromise on this small favor. If he doesn't want this long-term cooperation qualification anymore, he should make it clear as soon as possible. There are plenty of people to take his place."

The driver's expression immediately changed.

The saying "even a seventh-rank official is subject to the prime minister's gate" is not without merit. The extent of power sometimes has nothing to do with the position itself, but rather with the proximity of the source of that power. In name, Tim is merely Ryan's bodyguard and security personnel. Ryan can hurl insults, profanities, and make things difficult for him, but once he steps outside, it goes without saying what people outside will call him.

He was closest to the center of power, and had held that position firmly for over a decade. In a sense, his relationship with Lane was even closer than Lane's with his own son; they shared both glory and ruin. In a sense, Tim had touched upon the very foundation of confidence that allowed Lane to maintain the power structure he had built—he was truly one of their own.

Ryan knew, of course, that Tim was using his name to make extra money on the side. But as long as Tim remained absolutely loyal to him, these were all insignificant little problems.

His words can truly determine whether many people's lives are beautiful or tragic.

"Please believe me, our boss absolutely did not mean that, really! He... he personally instructed us to do this. You are our benefactor, and we cannot treat you casually; we must use the highest standards! It was the subordinates who messed things up, which led to this situation. I will hold them accountable when I get back and will definitely give you an explanation!"

……

Tim looked at him calmly, his emotions flowing freely.

It's only been a day, it's not like he can't eat it anymore. All he wanted was the other person's attitude.

This feeling of being superior to others, having the power of life and death, and making others feel obedient gives him great pleasure.

"Good to know." He waved his hand. "Get lost."

The driver, as if he had escaped death, took a breath and quickly left.

The refinery manager, however, stood to the side, smiling sheepishly.

"What?" Tim glared at him. "Want to try some too?"

"No, no, I meant..." The factory manager's expression was obsequious enough, and his posture was humble enough, but Tim still keenly caught the greed in his eyes.

"Say what you have to say, hurry up," Tim said coldly. "Don't waste my time."

"I heard that Mr. Chaidell's recent investment involves research into a special drug. The latest drug has already entered the experimental stage. Once used, it will grant immense strength and the ability to rapidly heal wounds. It can also..."

"Your information network is quite impressive," Tim sneered. "Go on, what else could it be?"

The factory manager smiled sheepishly and didn't continue.

“You see, I’ve been working for Mr. Lane for eight years now, managing this factory for him diligently. I haven’t done anything particularly meritorious, but I’ve certainly put in the hard work.” His tone was incredibly earnest. “Could you, just for the sake of that, talk to Mr. Lane and make an exception so I can also…”

"Do you want to be like me, suffering from hunger from the moment you open your eyes every day?" Tim kicked the iron basin at his feet and said with a smile, "That kind of medicine requires a lot of 'energy' to transform the body. You can't replenish it at all without taking it."

"These are minor issues!" the factory manager exclaimed, his voice even more excited. "If I can gain a younger, healthier body and a longer lifespan, I'm willing to pay such a small price!"

“Oh, you’re willing to take it?” Tim said with feigned hesitation. “Then…”

“Then…” the factory manager looked at him expectantly.

The next moment, a large hand pressed down on his head and slammed it hard onto the small round table in front of him.

"Bang---!!!"

His forehead slammed into the wooden table with such force that it shattered the entire table, which then crashed heavily to the floor.

The factory manager was completely unprepared for his sudden change of expression and cried out in pain as he was hit.

"Who do you think you are? At best, you're just his dog. Whether he gives you a bone or not depends on his mood. And you actually dare to sit at the table and try to get some meat?!"

Tim gripped the back of his neck, applying pressure little by little, as if trying to shove his face into the floor. He lowered his voice and said hatefully, "You think it's as easy as you say? A needle prick, a shot of medicine, and you can live forever?"

"You have no idea how painful the drug trial and 'matching' process is! Ten cowards like you would all die in this process!"

"Ah...I..." the factory manager murmured.

"I don't care where you heard this news from, you'd better learn your lesson and not utter a single word you shouldn't. And by the way, let me tell those who're looking for trouble! You all know what kind of temper Ryan has. No matter how much you've accomplished, if he's not satisfied, one word and you're out. And what happens to those who are out..."

"When that day comes, I'll have to kill you all myself. Don't blame me for not warning you today!"

----

"boom-----!!!"

The sudden flash of light and the deafening roar illuminated half of Tim's face—a layer of flowing mycelium, like liquid yet alive, appeared on his face, instantly covering his profile. This seemed to be one of his instincts when dealing with sudden danger.

The threads quickly disappeared under his skin. He saw the firelight and screams outside the factory and sensed something was wrong. He kicked the semi-conscious factory manager away and rushed out the door.

The towering flames, like a torch in the darkness, illuminated the oil refinery.

The scrambling crowd and the screams echoing in the night sky made him instantly understand everything.

"The fractionation tower exploded—!!"

Chapter 676: Ryan Childer, We've Finally Met

"Boom boom boom!"

"Boom boom boom!"

Tim, disregarding everything else, repeatedly pounded on the vault door with his fists, leaving several dents on its metal surface. This noise finally alerted Ryan inside. He opened the metal door from the inside, his face contorted with resentment, on the verge of unleashing a torrent of abuse. He roared, "You'd better have a very, very important time, something that makes me…"

"The fractionation tower exploded!"

“…What?” Ryan, who was woken from his sleep, looked blank, but he quickly forced himself to calm down and asked a crucial question, “How did it explode?”

"At this point, who knows how it exploded? Anyway, there's still some crude oil left in the tower. The fire isn't too big right now, but there's a cluster of oil tanks not far from the distillation tower, and further away are the refined oil storage facilities. There are water towers to store water, but nobody wants to go and put out the fire. As soon as something goes wrong, everyone runs away!"

Tim gave him no choice, grabbing his hand. "Once the fire reaches those two places, the whole factory will be set ablaze like fireworks. I've already got our people assembled. Let's get out before the fire spreads."

"boom----!!!"

An explosion rang out nearby, as if another flame had ignited something. This time, the shockwave made the walls vibrate. Many people looked on in fear, their eyes filled with anger as they faced him, seemingly questioning why he hadn't left yet.

When faced with life and death, the rules of the civilized world often cease to apply.

"……I……"