Eugene picked up the backpack containing the deadly weapon and pushed open the door of the computer room.
The corridor was dimly lit and empty, with the other henchmen probably still in the warehouse or outskirts checking personnel and clearing signs.
He tiptoed to the door of Kruen's office.
The marks left by the violent smashing were still on the door, and it seemed quiet inside, with only the sound of heavy and tired breathing.
Ding ding ding!
Eugene knocked on the door again and said in a deliberately concerned tone, "Boss Kruen? Boss? Are you...are you okay? I asked the logistics department to get some special sedatives and trauma medicine. The cut on your forehead is quite deep and needs to be treated quickly, otherwise it will get inflamed. I'll help you with it, at least so you can rest..."
There was silence for a few seconds inside the door. Then Kruen's irritable and hoarse voice rang out, filled with the exhaustion of a hangover and lingering anger: "...Come in."
Eugene pushed the door open a crack, slipped in, and quickly closed the door with his back hand.
The office was in a mess. Kroen slumped on the sofa by the window, his back to the door, looking out the window at the gloomy night of New York.
He held a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, and his scratched forehead was still stained with wine and blood. The wound solidified dark red in the dim light, making it particularly glaring.
Eugene looked at Kron's back like a hunter looking at prey that had stepped into a trap. "Boss, calm down first... This house is a mess. I'll have the brothers clean it up tomorrow morning. I'll help you clean the wound and then give you an injection. It will quickly relieve the pain and irritability and let you sleep well. Tomorrow... everything will be fine."
As he spoke, he took out sterile cotton balls and sterile dressings from his backpack and approached Kron professionally and gently.
Perhaps it was the effect of alcohol, or perhaps it was extreme physical and mental exhaustion, but Kroon relaxed his guard and had no doubts about Eugene. He just closed his eyes silently.
Eugene quickly began to clean the blood scabs and dust from Kruen's forehead.
Seeing that Kruen had his eyes closed, he immediately took out the cold syringe and the unlabeled vial from the secret pocket of his backpack.
His movements were swift and stealthy. He used his fingers to push open the cork, and the needle instantly penetrated the liquid, then he skillfully pushed out the air.
At the moment when Kruen was unaware, or simply too lazy to notice, Eugene held the needle tip and accurately pierced Kruen's exposed vein!
The medicine was injected silently and quickly.
Eugene pulled out the needle and at the same time, quickly pressed a cotton ball soaked in cleaning solution onto the small needle hole. His movements were smooth and natural.
"Okay, boss, the wound has been treated and the medicine has been injected. You will feel much better and will be able to rest soon..." His voice was steady, as if he was comforting a drunk friend.
Kron frowned. Alcohol and exhaustion had numbed most of his senses, and he seemed to feel a sudden chill and a slight sting, but it was far less severe than the wound on his forehead. He mumbled something incoherent, and without even turning his head, he impatiently waved the other person away. "...Alright, get out! Leave me alone!"
"Yes, Boss, you should have a good rest. Call me anytime if you need anything."
Eugene responded obediently, quickly packed up his medical supplies, and quietly left the office.
…
About fifteen minutes later, Kruen, who was drowsy in the office, suddenly stiffened!
Then, he suddenly sat up straight, his left hand subconsciously covering his left chest tightly, and the expression on his face was instantly distorted by severe pain!
The wound on his forehead burst open due to the sudden tension, and new drops of blood oozed out.
He gasped for breath and struggled to stand up, but his legs gave way and he fell to his knees on the carpet with a thud. The whiskey bottle fell to the ground with a sharp shattering sound.
When Eugene heard this sound, he knew that the big thing was done.
He quickly ran out of the room and pretended to yell into the communicator: "Someone come! Someone come quickly! Something's wrong with the boss!!"
When the other confidants heard the sound, they all rushed back. The door was violently pushed open and everyone rushed into the room together.
Everyone was shocked to see the eldest brother Kruen kneeling on the ground, holding his chest, his face pale and struggling in pain.
Eugene's face was filled with shock and fear. He quickly ordered, "Call the emergency number! Boss Kruen is having a heart attack! Quick! Get him in the car! Contact the nearest emergency center! Call the best doctor! Quick!"
He squatted beside Kron, supporting his violently trembling body. While frantically calling out the boss's name, he seemingly inadvertently and "assistantly" moved Kron's left hand slightly away from his chest. No one noticed that the skin beneath the pain relief patch, which was pressed against his skin, seemed slightly warmer than the surrounding area, and the contact point was directly opposite his heart.
In the chaos, Kruen was hastily lifted up and roughly stuffed into the car. As the "confidant" who "knew the situation best", Eugene "had to" follow him.
On the way to the hospital, Clune's condition deteriorated rapidly.
His eyes were blurred, and he saw Eugene's expressionless face in the pain and suffocation. He wanted to say something, but his lips moved, but he could only spit out bloody foam.
The sharp sound of the ambulance's siren pierced the pre-dawn darkness. When the car finally rushed to the door of the emergency center, Kroon's body suddenly straightened up, and the light of life was completely extinguished, leaving only a stiff shell.
A doctor in a white coat rushed over, quickly examined him, and shook his head gravely. "It's too late... I'm sorry, it's an acute myocardial infarction with acute cardiogenic shock... We brought him here too late." He asked routinely, "Any special stimulation before the onset of the disease? Any medical history?"
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