Conan: Begins to collaborate with Miss Bayonetta and become famous

Chapter 741: The Collapse of the Liquor Group

Baijiu put the phone to his ear: "It's you, Ryan."

The caller was Ryan. His hoarse and low voice was very recognizable, especially his weak tone, which most people could never imitate.

"I want you to do one thing, Baijiu."

"I think you will do it for your friend's sake."

"I'm listening." said Baijiu.

"Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to give me the unlocked hard drive before midnight. Now please tell me your choice."

Baijiu answered resolutely: "I accept."

"Good." Ryan smiled, "I knew you would."

Then the phone was hung up and the call ended.

Baijiu recounted the content of the conversation to Laohei Brant, "He wants us to hand over the unlocked hard drive to him before midnight today."

"White wine." Brent shook his head. He knew he had said a lot of wrong things just now. He didn't say much, but expressed his refusal with actions.

Lao Hei also said calmly: "There is only one person in the world who can unlock that hard drive."

Baijiu nodded, and came up with a bold plan in his mind. He turned around and looked at the two of them: "We have to kidnap the Prime Minister."

"Wait, wait!" Brandt was a little dazed. After all, kidnapping the Prime Minister was not something you could do just because you wanted to. The degree of difficulty could be described as hell level.

Brent said, "Captain Baijiu, I think we should think about this carefully."

Baijiu shook his head, still insisting on his point of view: "I have thought about it seriously."

"This is the only way we can save Macallan," Baijiu said.

"But!" Brent became anxious again, "Liquor Team Leader! Have you ever thought about it? That's exactly what Ryan wants you to do."

"Of course I have considered it." Baijiu's face was gloomy, even terrifying and cold.

"So we must do this." Baijiu raised his eyes, looked at Bratt, and walked slowly towards him: "This is how we defeat Ryan."

“This is how we resolve all of this.”

"do you understand?"

"Can't you see it?" Baijiu asked.

A passenger plane is soaring in the sky. The pilot is holding a tablet and looking at two sketches of a man and a woman on the screen.

He raised his glasses and looked out the window. At this moment, a black man in a blue suit walked towards him with a phone in his hand. "It's William Brant, sir."

"He said he had something urgent to discuss with you," said the black man.

The guy with the haircut quickly took off his glasses and answered the phone.

The guy with the haircut pursed his lips, closed his eyes and prepared himself mentally.

Maybe Brent took the initiative to approach him to admit his mistake.

However, there was a sense of uneasiness in the heart of Jethead. He felt that something bad must have happened when Brandt called him.

He took the initiative and said, "I just feel that you will come to your senses, Brent."

Brent was standing in a telephone box on the street in London, holding the receiver and swaying his body with his other hand in the pocket of his beige windbreaker.

Outside, heavy raindrops fell through the glass. He looked at the glass and said, "I called you because I had no other choice."

As he spoke, Brent kept looking back to see if there was anyone hiding around: "I don't want things to get out of control."

"I understand. Where are you?" asked the pilot.

Brent bounced up and down on his toes, breathing heavily through his nose. "London."

The pilot put down the phone immediately and told his assistant: "Notify the captain immediately that we are heading to London."

He looked down at the clock on his wrist and asked, "Where in London?"

"I'll tell you after you land," Brent said calmly.

"I'm warning you, Brent." After hearing what he said, the guy with the airplane head suddenly looked gloomy and said, "I'm not interested in playing this kind of childish game with you."

"I have no interest in watching my friends die," Brent said firmly, "If I'm going to betray them, we're going to do it my way."

Bran recounted, "You can only do it my way, okay?"

"Keep the line open, I'll give you instructions." Brent said to the head of the plane in a commanding tone.

Although the airplane head looked unhappy, he still chose to compromise.

Brent pushed open the door of the telephone booth and walked out into the rain. Back at their temporary base in London, he took off his soaking wet windbreaker.

With his hands in his pockets, he walked inside, only to find that Lao Hei and Baijiu were still sitting in their offices. Brent asked, "Aren't you hot, wearing a cowboy hat all day long?"

"You don't understand. You will understand when you reach my age." Lao Hei said half-jokingly with a smile on his face.

Baijiu remained silent, saying nothing and doing nothing.

"By the way, you should leave now."

"Yeah." Brent walked past Old Black with the sound of stomping his feet. He went straight to his luggage with displeasure written all over his face.

He picked up two large cement-colored briefcases on the ground, looked out the window, and half turned his body: "We are going to kidnap the British Prime Minister tonight."

"So..." Brent lowered his head and walked straight to the door.

"Brent." Baijiu called him.

He stared at the computer screen in front of him, seeing everything Brent had done, and said earnestly, "I can't think of any other way."

"Me too." Brent shrugged. It seemed that he had made up his mind.

The liquor model looked at him.

Brent frowned. "You have to do something for your friends, right?"

Baijiu swallowed his saliva subconsciously, and for a moment, he felt a little shaken.

After Brent bowed his head and greeted them, he hurriedly opened the door and left from the two people's sight.

On the other side, McAllen breathed in deep gulps of air. His vision finally returned to normal. He looked around, staring with his frightened little eyes.

He found himself in a room similar to a study, with two burly men standing on both sides. They were Ryan's two trusted men.

The bald man known as the orthopedic surgeon held a hood in his hand and looked at McAllen with a sly smile.

McAllen tried to break free, but found his hands and feet were firmly fixed.

Suddenly, McAllen noticed a dark figure appearing in front of him out of the corner of his eye. It was Ryan. He was wearing a black coat and had his hands behind his back.

Those eyes seemed to have no emotions, staring at McAllen coldly and mercilessly.

He moved his pace, step by step, towards McAllen. He bent down and said to his men in a low voice, "Help him get ready."

Time soon came to night.

At this time, outside the British government building, a black Maybach was parked on the side of the road.

The North American Organization's Operations Director, Aircraft Head, stepped out of the car and met with Brandt, who had been waiting for a long time. "Sorry for the wait."

"You were right to call me, Brent," the crew cut said.

"Where's the liquor?" asked the pilot.

"He's on his way now, and we don't have much time," Brandt said.

"What does he want to do?" The guy with the airplane head was puzzled.

"The point is that he's still alive." Brent turned around: "I need you to make sure he doesn't die, that's all."