Conan: Begins to collaborate with Miss Bayonetta and become famous

Chapter 782: Wasn't it to save the hostages? Why did they kill the hostages?

This action confused the enemy. You killed the hostage, so what should I do?

The enemy suddenly became like a headless fly, confused and looking around at a loss. Baijiu quickly located the enemy and locked the muzzle of the gun at the enemy's temple.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

"Click--" With a dry sound, the magazine was empty.

Seeing that the boss and the hostages were dead, the remaining enemies also came out from their hiding places. Seeing that the situation had reversed, McAllen picked up a submachine gun from the ground.

Then he took out a pistol from his arms, which was like a portal to anywhere, and shot Baijiu again. Although he couldn't hit the enemy and all the bullets hit the wall, it still had the effect of suppressing the firepower.

He quickened his pace and threw the submachine gun in his left hand forward. Baijiu tacitly reached behind him with his right hand, took the weapon, and fired at the fleeing enemy.

Baijiu did not linger in the fight. His main purpose was to force the enemies back. Then he stopped in front of Laohei, squatted down, checked Laohei's condition, and tore open his buttons with his bare hands.

"Da da da da da da!" McAllen was in combat mode. He picked up the submachine gun that Baijiu had placed beside him, held it with both hands, and fired at the other end of the tunnel with a serious face.

There were two gun muzzles at the position of Lao Hei's heart, but fortunately, Lao Hei had put on a bulletproof vest in advance, and the bullets were blocked by the fibers inside the clothes.

Baijiu looked at Lao Hei with guilt, and gently rubbed Lao Hei's heart with his palm. Although the bullet was swallowed, the impact was still there.

Baijiu choked a little: "I'm sorry, I don't know what else to do."

Baijiu took another gamble, betting that Lao Hei was wearing a bulletproof vest.

"No need to apologize." Lao Hei comforted Baijiu, holding his wrist and getting up from the ground: "If only Vermouth was here, my acting skills just now would definitely be worthy of a Hollywood performance."

Baijiu didn't continue his topic, and asked with a serious expression, "Are you okay?"

"I should have died." Lao Hei said half-jokingly.

McCarron echoed, "We should all be dead."

"Wait..." Macallan's words, seemingly meant to ease the atmosphere, made Baijiu feel uneasy. He thought in reverse and asked himself, "Why aren't we dead?"

Macallan didn't understand the hidden meaning behind Baijiu's words and was about to praise Baijiu.

As expected of someone who had just experienced a life-or-death situation, Lao Hei was extremely clear-headed. He stared at Baijiu and asked, "Where's the plutonium core?"

When McAllen heard the word "plutonium core", his mouth opened slightly and a cold sweat broke out on his back in half a second.

His small eyes looked at Baijiu, Baijiu looked at Laohei, and Laohei looked at Macallan.

Baijiu and Macallan immediately ran backwards. Lao Hei, who never ran, also covered his heart and staggered behind them.

Baijiu stood in front of the BMW and looked at the empty ground. He realized at the first moment that they had also been fooled by the enemy.

"It's gone." Baijiu told the two of them.

McCarron clenched his fists and pounded the bricks on the wall in regret. "Damn it! I should have thrown the box into the car first! I shouldn't have followed you!"

"Let bygones be bygones." Baijiu placed his hand on Macallan's shoulder and said in a low voice, "You're right. If you hadn't chosen to cover me, perhaps it would be me, or us, lying on the ground."

Baijiu poked the man's body with his foot. Lao Hei looked at Baijiu and asked, "Have you come up with a solution?"

Baijiu didn't answer directly, but tapped his head with his fingers.

"If you had just turned on the TV, there were three massive explosions going off simultaneously."

The cold light of the studio shone on the anchor. A white-haired man in a neat suit sat in his seat, but he could not hide the solemnity in his voice. The pen in his hand fell to the ground uncontrollably, and the sentences he reported were like lead blocks, hitting the air heavily. The red words "Breaking News, Three Nuclear Attacks" at the end were eye-catching.

"This appears to be a coordinated attack. This is live footage of the Vatican from Rome."

A Live video popped up in the upper right corner, and thick smoke was seen billowing over the city. The dome of the iconic church was tilted, leaving only a vague outline distorted in the firelight.

"This is the closest our cameras can capture. According to reports, the Pope was in his residence when the explosion occurred. This is a real-time image from outside Jerusalem. Next is a real-time image of the Holy City of Jesus, taken from the USS Ronald Reagan aircraft carrier in the Red Sea, outside Saudi Arabia. Nuclear radiation has been detected, which means that nuclear weapons were used in these extremely serious attacks."

"Baijiu, it's time." Lao Hei called out to Baijiu who was standing there in a daze.

Baijiu stood with his back to the light, his figure hidden in the shadows, his expression so solemn that it seemed to overwhelm the air. The TV screen behind him was still flashing the doomsday scene of the city being devoured by disaster.

The anchor on TV continued reporting the news. "No specific casualty figures have been released yet, but we can estimate the death toll to be catastrophic. Initial reports indicate that the weapons used in the attack required extremely specialized expertise."

In a ward, a weak and haggard man lay on the bed with his eyes closed and his stubble scattered limply on the pillow.

There was a long scar above his forehead, his eyelids were bluish-white, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed due to the scar, his lips were dry, and his long hair flowed down his neck and onto his shoulders, making him look sloppy.

And this man was none other than the Norwegian nuclear expert, Debruk, whom Baijiu had learned about on the projector before, the one who looked like the captain of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Listening to the news broadcast, he gradually opened his weathered eyes, staring at the TV screen in the distance with a hazy consciousness, and the voice of the news anchor once again entered his mind.

"Only a very few people possess such knowledge. The question now is, who would attack these three holy sites simultaneously, and why—"

"The three attacks happened at exactly the same moment."

The green lights of the surrounding monitors flashed. Debrook tried to get up, but found that he could not move. His right wrist was handcuffed to the side of the bed, and the IV tube was still connected to his arm.

Upon hearing about the "attack on three holy sites", Debruk's eyes gradually widened. A female nurse came over to him with a blank expression on her face and a document in her arms.

"Just over an hour ago, at 4 a.m. Eastern Time, within minutes of the attack, the meeting ordered an emergency recess."

Debrook's eyes sparkled, his lower lip trembled uncontrollably, and he showed an indescribable smile, which was both evil and intriguing.

"The Capitol was evacuated, the president left Washington on Air Force One, the White House declared a state of emergency, and the military was placed on high alert."

His grand plan was finally accomplished!

Debruk bit his lower lip, and a strong pain surged into his heart.

But the pain was soon filled with joy.

because.......

This is not a dream!

But reality!