Beneath Carlos's feet, the flames of the explosion spread like a living thing, engulfing everything; people, floors, and walls all became part of this dark red, flowing monster.

Humanity's paradise has been shattered, and only the flames of demonic hell have risen.

He heard several screams and curses, but they quickly disappeared.

After a few seconds of mental blankness, Carlos decided to move forward. He flipped over and climbed onto another reinforced building slab. The fire screamed beneath his feet, burning his fingers, but it didn't matter.

Not every operative has the ability to regenerate, but for him, these were minor injuries that could be easily altered with his notes.

He then recalled Merlink, the man who said, "God knows when you'll die. Don't rely too much on the notebook's properties. We need to calm down." When he said that, this future Van Gogh had just killed an out-of-control taboo object. Standing under the dim light, he was clearly on a dead end, yet inexplicably proud.

Carlos was almost laughing in anger at the time, but now that he thinks about it, he was right. We were all reckless bastards, and we had no choice but to take this path.

At this moment, the entire Dolphin Hotel beneath his feet was scorching hot, as if he were standing on a frying pan.

He smiled; this was really exciting.

Carlos encountered the group of people in the fire escape on the fifth floor.

He stood on the bare floor, surrounded by disemboweled corpses, the floor stained red with blood.

He was surrounded by gaps from the explosion and signs of a fight, and there was a crack ten meters away at his feet, like a bottomless abyss.

He had barely steadied himself when he heard someone shout from behind, "You! Don't move!"

Carlos turned his head and saw a group of fifteen men in security uniforms pointing their guns at him in a spread-out arc formation. There were no exits around, and at this point, most people would have no chance to resist; he was in a situation where there was no way to escape.

"Put that thing down! You bunch of operatives are fucking insane! Come here!" the leader yelled, as if his whole family had suddenly died. "You'll get what's coming to you later, so behave yourself now—"

He sighed, then raised his hands and threw the notebook on the ground, signifying his surrender.

The person opposite him looked at him with suspicion, as if he had done something incomprehensible.

Logically speaking, shouldn't it be a normal development that involves mutual fighting, a few deaths, and being forced to surrender?

The leader gave a signal, and a security guard carefully walked up to Carlos, took his notebook, and found several other guns and a bunch of cheap, common ballpoint pens.

The leader followed him up, and the latter raised an eyebrow and obediently extended his hand.

The man quickly took out handcuffs, cuffed him, and locked him up.

This put them at ease a little. He smirked at Carlos and said menacingly, "832's really angry now, but I thought you'd put up a fight. Your teammate really wore us out."

“You’re right, he’s a two-faced scoundrel, and besides, I can’t afford to get hurt again.” Carlos laughed and said, “After all, I have other things to do.”

The other person paused for a moment.

The smile was so bright, it shone even in the blood-red light, exuding a chilling murderous aura that sent shivers down one's spine. It was clearly not the kind of smile he should have, yet somehow it was exactly how it should be.

Just then, some more explosions occurred above.

Unlike the previous wild explosion after Sergio's liberation, this one was much smaller in scale.

The surroundings only trembled a few times.

"Damn, what's wrong now?" someone asked.

"We cleared out all the bombs and stuff; it was probably a directional explosion," another person said.

Just then, the ground beneath their feet suddenly shook again.

It was a slight yet enormous tremor, not a single-layer shaking, but a vibration that spread extremely far, like a giant beast that had taken root and was about to awaken, foreshadowing some unknown great event that was about to happen.

A hint of panic appeared on some people's faces. Nothing like this had ever happened at the Dolphin Hotel before. The rules were still in effect, and these outsiders shouldn't have caused such a big commotion.

The leader then said, "Damn it, what's going on?"

Just then, it seemed like an internal communication connection came through. The person answered it and called out, "Slow down! What happened on your end? Explain clearly—"

There was another jolt underfoot, and several security personnel lost their balance and almost fell over.

Wearing handcuffs, Carlos stood obediently for a moment, glanced around quickly, and then took a steady step toward the team leader beside him. His movements were calm and firm, and came without warning.

The next second, he grabbed the man's neck with his arm, pinned him down, and dragged him into the fire escape next to him without the man making a sound.

The teammates next to him reacted quickly, raising their guns. They must have had some order to "capture those operatives at all costs." Within two seconds, at least ten bullets were fired.

Carlos didn't even bother to look, he just grabbed the person in his hand and all the bullets hit him. The person thrashed around a few times and then stopped responding.

He dragged the body to the back in a few quick steps. In those few seconds, the surroundings were shaking, and people were shouting things like, "Damn, did those things come out again?", "Was the manager's office blown up?", and "Where is that particular weapon? Has anyone seen it?"

He memorized these details, dragged the man into the passage, and deftly used his hand to pull out the key and unlock the handcuffs.

At the same time, he drew the gun from the man's waist and fired at the two security guards who rushed in without looking up.

He didn't know if there were others trying to rush in, but no one was in the mood to capture him anymore. At this moment, everyone could realize that the situation at the Dolphin Hotel was dire, and that everyone was probably going to die.

Beneath their feet, the ground was like a ship about to capsize, slowly tilting to one side and shaking violently, as if it would fall apart at any moment.

Carlos glanced at the group of people a few times, expressionlessly pulled the gun out of the corpse, picked up the notebook and wrote something on it, while putting the guns away one by one, and also found a bag of custom-made bombs, putting them all in his clothes.

He turned around, opened another door, and walked onto the corridor on the opposite floor.

Around here, the entire fifth floor of the hotel was in chaos, like the end of the world had come. Security guards were running around, and shouts could be heard everywhere, such as "Some kind of stabilization program has failed," "We are falling into the abyss," "Backup weapons are ineffective," "Repair personnel are out of contact," and "The cleaning staff is almost wiped out."

Carlos, dressed in a blood-stained suit, continued walking forward without showing any emotion.

With a clear goal in mind, he navigated turn after turn, moving forward amidst corpses, despair, and destruction without the slightest confusion.

Then he saw Sergio, who had been waiting for a long time.

Where are you going?