Soul Chuan Ke Xue: I call gin and wine my wife

Chapter 59 Shadow

The car waiting in front of Dr. Ali's house is the one Lancer saw before he arrived.

The person in the driver's seat did not roll down the window, but opened the rear door for him.

When Lancer got in the car, his phone vibrated again.

He thought it was Gin who had something to tell him, so he took out his phone and took a look, but he didn't expect that it was Haihara Ai who had sent a text message.

【where are you going? 】

Lancer closed the car door, raised the corners of his mouth frivolously, and said two words——

Dating.

The other party didn't send him any more messages, maybe because he was speechless.

After Lancer hid the phone, he raised his eyes and met the eyes of the woman who was looking at him in the rearview mirror.

Those dark lips are particularly eye-catching.

"Bomaro?" Lancer called tentatively, and the woman whistled and raised her finger in a salute.

"This is the second time we have met, Master Lancer."

The car drove away from the street and began to accelerate without any scruples, speeding arrogantly on the highway.

Lancer, who was worried about his life, put on his seat belt and took the time to retort to her: "No, this should be the third time we meet."

"Oh?" The woman glanced at him with heavy eyeliner, "Isn't it the first time we met before tonight?"

Lancer said: "No, it was the time at the Dusk Annex."

Although he was temporarily unconscious due to injuries and inhalation of drug-filled smoke. However, the voices of those powerful people still left some impression on him.

Bomaluo didn't expect that he would remember her, and couldn't help but look at him differently.

The two didn't talk anymore on the way, and soon after, a helicopter stopped near an empty warehouse.

The wind picked up by the propeller seemed to be able to blow people away at any time. Lancer pushed Bomaruo onto the helicopter against the huge wind. As soon as the woman got on board, she sat down as the co-pilot of the aircraft with a straight face. s position.

Lancer himself was mechanically put on a helmet.

"Put it on yourself."

A familiar voice sounded in his head. Lancer was stunned for a moment and looked sideways at the people around him.

Gin was holding a cigarette as always, but it seemed that he hadn't had time to light it yet. He bit it in his mouth indifferently and looked at him with lowered eyes.

I still remember that the last time they were separated, the two of them almost had a small argument over whether or not they should monitor Shirley.

When they met now, Lancer didn't know what to say to him.

But Gin crossed his arms and asked coldly: "Are you mute?"

"No." Lancer glanced at him sideways and buckled the chin strap of his helmet. "You wouldn't expect a good look from someone who was woken up in the middle of the night and hasn't had enough sleep, right?"

Gin, however, gave an unclear laugh and said, "Do you want to accuse me of abusing my members?"

"It seems you are somewhat self-aware!" Lancer yawned, not wanting to talk nonsense to him. "What's the mission today? We actually used a helicopter...Have you obtained aviation permission?"

Before Gin could speak, Pomaro, who was sitting in front, couldn't help but say: "Young master is really naive - if there was no permission, such a big movement would have attracted the attention of the police."

So, there are people in the organization who have infiltrated the police force.

Lancer frowned and fell into his own thoughts.

Gin, on the other hand, took out a lighter, finally lit the cigarette in his mouth, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

A drawing of the internal structure of the building was handed to Lancer, successfully attracting Lancer's attention to it.

"Tonight's destination is a well-defended high-end club. The target of this assassination has an unusual identity and is not easy to get close to."

The structural diagram is very clear, and it seems that Gin has conducted rigorous investigation.

Lancer was able to build a 3D model in his mind just based on this floor plan. He meditated for a while with his eyes closed, and then sighed in embarrassment.

"Indeed, if the other party has enough security personnel, all it takes is guarding every door and window. Moreover, the security check will be strict, and ordinary assassination methods may not be possible."

Gin took out a puff of smoke and said at the right time: "It's not without flaws."

"You mean the transom here?" Lancer pointed to a certain location on the drawing and clicked with his finger.

Surprised by his sensitivity to buildings, Gin held the cigarette between his fingers and was stunned for a moment before nodding in agreement.

"More accurately, behind the transom is a narrow passageway that connects deeper into the building and leads to a laundry room," he said.

Lancer seemed to know the purpose of Gin calling him here: "The passage is very narrow, and only one person can be allowed to pass through at most."

"Yes."

"In this case, isn't Bomalo very suitable for this single-line mission? Why did you call me here?"

Even if he is thin, he is far less slender than a woman's limbs, right?

The woman in front of him coughed in dissatisfaction and then straightened out her heavy chest. This move left Lancer speechless for a while.

"Everyone is afraid of something, Lancer, Pomaro may not be suitable for this task." Seeing that his face was heavy and his lips were pursed tightly, as if he was unwilling, Gin asked: "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"That's what's decided."

Lancer didn't want to talk, so Gin stopped asking.

It's just that the man's eyes were a little probing, and they didn't move away from him for a long time.

The atmosphere was inexplicably solemn, and even the system, which always liked to make jokes, was very discerning and silent.

Actually there is nothing to say.

In the early years, when Lancer was not an S-class killer who could act cool, he was trained by the people who trained him in various ways. It often happened that he was locked in a box and thrown into water and fire, leaving him to survive on his own.

Once, I was not spared even when I was sick, and I almost died in a small and claustrophobic space.

The reason is to test his survival limit in a sick state, remove the oxygen from the box, and watch him slowly suffocate and struggle.

Although the system can give him material rewards, it cannot carry out actual rescue.

It was also past experiences that made Lancer very resistant to staying in closed and narrow spaces.

[System: If you don’t want to, just find a reason to refuse. It makes me feel bad. 】

Lancer: A cat cries like a mouse.

The system that was complained about snorted and was unwilling to talk to him anymore.

Seeing that the destination was approaching, Lancer returned the drawing to Gin and asked: "So? What is your plan?"

Gin looked at him deeply, took out a box of things from the inner pocket of the black windbreaker, and handed it to Lancer's hand.

After opening it, Lancer was a little surprised.

"Concentrated microbombs?"

He didn't expect that the organization's arsenal would have such a good thing, which really impressed him.

Gin: "Well, distribute them in the back of the clubhouse. Once the time is up, the device will detonate on its own."

"I understand."

When Lancer was worrying about having nowhere to put the box, an exaggeratedly decorated pain bag was suddenly handed to him.

"Take it," Gin said.

Lancer's face was filled with astonishment, and his half-lidded eyes widened and he looked at Gin.

That look seemed to say: So you are still a two-thorned ape!

Gin said without changing his expression: "Don't get me wrong, the stuff you put in the middle of your schoolbag won't be discovered by the security check."

"……Oh."