The Rebellion of Inheritance - Mason Wheatley 14
"You are studying Scrooso," Mason looked at the red-haired man in front of him. Tong Xiangwang, who was acting as the middleman, was still drinking tea and smilingly gave them time to communicate freely. "Really?"
"This is a bit different from my major," Alvin was silent for a moment, but he still said frankly, the idea of transforming brain science into biochemical pharmaceuticals was a genius idea, "I used to work at the Rex Brain Science Laboratory..."
Then he burned his old company and ran away with its products. Mason nodded, "You just need to study it carefully." For the sake of being in the same camp, he encouraged dryly, "Just do what I say."
Rather than the winery's orders.
.
The kidnapping went smoothly, and Svir's many security guards became his own prison in the presence of Mescal.
Toru Amuro smiled as he watched the man lying on the ground wailing. The painful screams of a human being could not penetrate the well-soundproof office, and no one knew the harm that Sverre had suffered.
"We have six hours to get you to speak," Curacao grabbed Swel's hair and said coldly to that distorted face, "You should know what to choose."
Even if a man who had been pampered for many years had ambitions, that was nineteen years ago. Swell's eyes widened, and his eyeballs moved back and forth between the two people in front of him. Sweat and blood dripped onto the ground, and his lips moved silently, still hesitant.
"Hello, Mr. Max Swell," facing Curacao's gaze, Furuya Ling tapped the headset, indicating that it was an instruction from Mescal, "or -"
"——Mr. Tyrone Maverick, would you like to meet with your CIA colleagues outside?"
"No. 23, Irvine Street..." The man whose real name was exposed slowly uttered an address, but because of the blood spitting out of his mouth from time to time, he spoke intermittently, "Room 308..."
"Thank you for your cooperation," Amuro Toru smiled happily. Ironically, the CIA was more intimidating than a legitimate criminal organization. "Vermouth, did you hear that?"
"Naturally," the man said as his motorcycle sped down the street, his long blond hair blowing in the wind, and the face behind the helmet raised an eyebrow, "It's just a little tail."
Several black vehicles followed silently behind, but the next second their tires were punctured and they were forced to strand on the roadside.
"Thank you, Kirisaki," Vermouth's teasing voice echoed in the channel, "If it were Gin, he would have hit the gas tank directly. You are much more gentleman than that man, Kirisaki."
"I can't put a beautiful lady in danger," Zhu Fujingguang responded politely. He didn't fill the gas tank because he was worried about Vermouth getting into a car accident. He was just worried about the agents who were working seriously. "It seems that the reason why the CIA didn't contact them in advance was also to fish for them."
"Crows bring death equally," Vermouth's voice echoed in everyone's ears, "Those who think they have escaped have only delayed their escape."
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