Ultimate Firepower
Chapter 173 - 162: Irritable

Chapter 173: Chapter 162: Irritable

National Intelligence Bureau didn’t look particularly fortified from the outside; Gao Yi didn’t even notice anyone armed standing guard.

As a prince, instead of staying in his own mansion or going to the palace, Shaman had returned to Riyadh at ten o’clock at night; his first stop was the National Intelligence Bureau, exhibiting considerable dedication and diligence.

Only a few men in white robes were standing at the door, waiting to receive Mu Tianwen.

It wasn’t a welcoming party, which was an important distinction.

Feng Biao was the first to exit the car; he went to open Mu Tianwen’s door, while Gao Yi got out by himself.

Mu Tianwen’s identity was quite important; hence, Abdulla, the deputy director and acting captain, was there to meet him at the door personally, an act that gave much face.

Gao Yi didn’t understand why agents of such an organization like the bureau still wore white robes.

When Abdulla saw Gao Yi, his gaze lingered on him for a moment; Gao Yi felt that he had been recognized.

On two occasions, Gao Yi had used two very similar faces, but strangely, Abdulla seemed to not recognize him, merely glancing at him and Feng Biao’s Chinese features and muttering something disdainfully under his breath.

Gao Yi couldn’t understand him, but it was undoubtedly nothing pleasant.

Mu Tianwen responded, his appearance one of great fear; he didn’t even dare to raise his head while facing Abdulla.

Despite his young age, Mu Tianwen was quite the actor, impressively skilled.

Abdulla gestured for Mu Tianwen to come with him, but Mu Tianwen did not move; he pointed towards Gao Yi and spoke in a timid tone.

Then, Mu Tianwen said to Gao Yi in Chinese, "He asked if you don’t even have a servant by your side, why bring two assassins? Then he told me to go inside alone. I said no, I must have protection; I am scared."

Gao Yi was speechless; Abdulla had indeed recognized him, yet he didn’t bother to engage further since he didn’t take Gao Yi seriously.

Now, entering the building had become an obstacle, but fortunately, Mu Tianwen was still persistent.

Abdulla changed his tone, addressing Gao Yi, "Your disguise is good, but do you think it’s meaningful?"

Last time, Gao Yi hadn’t heavily disguised himself. His face was unrecognizable, but by his overall appearance and intuition, an experienced agent could identify him.

After some thought, Gao Yi pointed to the side and said to Abdulla, "Could we speak over here?"

With a not-quite-smiling expression, Abdulla stepped aside. Gao Yi approached closer, whispering, "Muhan is still a child; what decisions do you think he can make? This child barely dares to speak."

Abdulla scoffed coldly, "I’ve heard he was educated in China from a young age; you guys can’t be assassins, who are you really?"

Gao Yi replied quietly, "Only Chinese education teaches compromise and the doctrine of the mean. Otherwise, how could Muhan decide to surrender to the Prince? I just want him to retain some wealth and live an ordinary, stable life. But I must help him; this child is too timid to speak up without support."

Avoiding the question, speaking incomprehensibly.

Abdulla glanced at Gao Yi, filled with doubts, since an assassin would never be involved in such a matter.

After some thought, Abdulla waved his hand, coldly commanding, "Bring them inside."

Mu Tianwen led the way, still with his head down, looking very scared.

Gao Yi and Feng Biao followed behind Mu Tianwen on either side, appearing like bodyguards but taken lightly by everyone.

In this place, just the two of them couldn’t possibly turn the tide.

The first thing upon entering the intelligence building was a thorough search.

A meticulous, comprehensive search.

First, through an X-ray machine scanning the entire body. Muhan carried nothing, not even a cell phone.

Gao Yi had two cell phones on him and was forced to relinquish them before passing through the X-ray machine again.

But it didn’t end there; Gao Yi also had to undergo a check with a handheld metal detector and explosive sniffer one more time.

Feng Biao was forced to hand over his cell phone and a car key; he carried nothing else.

Seemingly compliant, Gao Yi and his companions didn’t carry any weapons or items resembling weapons, which somewhat satisfied Abdulla, who was in charge of the security check.

"Leave your items here, and follow me," Abdulla instructed.

He intended to continue escorting Gao Yi and the others, but Gao Yi spoke up softly, "Sir, that’s not possible. This is the Intelligence Bureau; checking a cell phone would be too simple for you, and I, as an assassin, have many secrets in my phone. Sir, I absolutely cannot leave it here."

Suddenly, Muhan raised his head, looking fiercely at Abdulla, and cried out sharply, "Are you taking my phone too? What are you afraid of, what are you worried about!"

Muhan had passed puberty; his voice shouldn’t be so shrill, and now its sharpness suggested only one thing: he was nervous, scared, and very angry.

Abdulla hesitated but eventually realized that a child plus two assassins couldn’t pose a threat to Shaman, so he waved his hand dismissively.

The journey was quite long; they took an elevator and walked down a corridor before arriving at the door of an office on the fourth floor.

The office had no nameplate outside, and its occupant’s role was unknown.

Abdulla looked at Muhan and Gao Yi, then tapped lightly on the door, pushing it open after receiving a muffled response.

Stopping Gao Yi and Feng Biao with his hand, Abdulla only allowed Muhan inside.

Muhan glanced at Gao Yi with a face full of dread. After hesitating, he bit his lip and finally entered the office.

Abdulla closed the office door, its soundproofing was excellent, completely muffling any conversation inside.

However, after roughly five minutes, the door suddenly opened from the inside. Muhan, tears streaming down his face, opened the door and said to Gao Yi, "You come in, help me speak."

More crying? How did Muhan perform it?

After a moment, someone inside spoke, then Abdulla entered first to inquire. Later, he called four more people inside, feeling it was insecure, and called two more in. After making arrangements, he said to Gao Yi, "You can come in now."

Gao Yi could follow Muhan inside; Feng Biao couldn’t.

Finally, Gao Yi saw Shaman.

Shaman was excessively young, his face adorned with a beard, lending him a semblance of maturity, but it was still apparent that Shaman was only in his thirties.

Only thirty-two, very handsome, all in command; he was indeed a protagonist out of a template.

Shaman wore a red and white checkered headscarf, but upon closer inspection, it wasn’t checkered but had red dots on a white base, giving the appearance of checkers.

He wore a black robe adorned with gold trimming at the collar.

The office wasn’t particularly luxurious: a large desk, a substantial chair, and aside from that, no other chairs, no sofa, not even a carpet.

The office wasn’t big either, maybe forty square meters at most, ridiculously small for someone like Shaman.

The desk was large, piled with a stack of documents and several file folders. The only item of luxury was a gem-encrusted, shiny letter opener.

Two men in suits stood on either side of Shaman guarding him. These were attendees Abdulla had just arranged, close personal protectors.

On either side behind Gao Yi and Muhan, there were also two men in suits.

These four visible individuals weren’t armed, but the man behind Gao Yi had a thick neck matching his face and severely deformed ears, clearly a master of combat.

These four must all be highly skilled.

In a corner behind the small office, there were two men holding submachine guns. They were armed guards, but even they wore suits, indicating they weren’t specialized combatants.

Six bodyguards, all armed, two holding their guns ready.

Gao Yi was pleased; to him, this security configuration was as good as non-existent.

Unluxurious, very simple, young, handsome, workaholic, punctual, ruthless—based on what Gao Yi had observed, he believed Shaman was indeed destined for great things.

Shaman looked interestedly at Gao Yi, then spoke in English, "What is your identity, allowing you to influence Muhan to obey you?"

Unknown what Muhan had said.

Muhan wiped his tears, turned to Gao Yi and stammered, "Sir, I... I... I..."

Not only had Muhan cried, but he had also developed a stutter.

Muhan didn’t know what to say, so he simply pretended to be unable to speak.

What a clever child.

Shaman’s face was stern as he looked at Gao Yi, "You speak for him."

Gao Yi and Muhan stood like elementary students in front of Shaman’s desk, about five steps away, roughly a little less than four meters.

That distance was too far.

Gao Yi sighed, then stepped forward, speaking softly, "Your Highness..."

Suddenly, a strong hand landed on Gao Yi’s shoulder from behind.

Gao Yi couldn’t move further, he whispered, "Your Highness, please release Harold; I guarantee I can convince him to willingly hand over everything you need."

Shaman looked puzzled and chuckled in surprise, "You?"

Gao Yi was still touched by the strong man behind him, but this was intentional; he actually hoped the strong man would act this way.

Gao Yi whispered, "I have a way."

"Stop wasting time; go ahead."

If it’s not wasting time, then about four steps should do.

Gao Yi suddenly hooked a kick backward, his heel striking the groin of the guard behind him. Then turning around, he grabbed the assaulting guard’s right arm with his left hand and swung his right hand with unprecedented force, slapping the open-armed guard across the face.

The guard had strong resilience, to withstand a groin kick and remain unfazed.

But the impact from an Eight Trigram Palm direct hit left no room for resistance.

It was another dimension of strike, incomparable.

Reacting swiftly, the almost embracing Gao Yi’s strong man helplessly collapsed onto him.

With one slap knocking down the strong man behind him, Gao Yi leapt sideways onto Shaman’s desk and stood there, launching a fierce kick directly at the head of Shaman’s left guard.

Landing, he wrapped his right arm around Shaman’s neck from behind, ducked to evade a punch from a guard, kicked the guard’s shin with his left foot, followed by a knee to the guard’s belly, then swung his left arm downward, slapping the guard down after a crisp sound. The guards around Shaman all fell to the ground.

Mercy wasn’t shown unless hands were needed; once hands were needed, no mercy was shown.

Since it had come to blows, it was a fight to the death, so there was no need for courtesy nor could there be any.

Gao Yi gripped Shaman’s neck, shielding his whole body behind Shaman’s, and shouted to the two submachine-gun-wielding guards, "Drop your guns!"

He didn’t believe the armed guards would dare shoot in Shaman’s direction; Gao Yi even bet their guns weren’t off safety. Now, it seemed he had guessed right.

Shaman fell into brief confusion, but feeling the pressure on his neck stirred more anger than confusion, leading him to roar, "Don’t drop your guns, kill him!"

Gao Yi tightened his grip, bellowing again, "Drop your guns!"

Shaman tried prying at Gao Yi’s neck, speaking becoming a laborious task for him; he struggled to say, "Don’t... drop..."

Gao Yi was quick and brave.

Shaman was brave and fierce.