bookbashuk Chapter 162 Danitz: Why did you kill him?
Chapter 162 Danitz: Why did you kill him?
Chapter 162 Danitz: Why did you kill him?
A calm and tranquil sea.
An armed merchant ship with understated yet luxurious decorations.
Victor, a maritime intelligence broker and black market dealer, leaned back behind his large desk made of rare wood, somewhat irritably flipping through a stack of intelligence his subordinates had just gathered.
He had just finished resupplying the "Golden Dream." According to the original plan, his fleet should have already set sail for another sea area to conduct a transaction with another important client.
As a result, those lunatics from the Storm Church, as if they were on steroids, stirred up the entire sea area into chaos.
Their patrol boats were everywhere, recklessly and unreasonably disrupting normal shipping order. To avoid unnecessary trouble, he had to suspend all subsequent arrangements.
"Damn Storm Church—a bunch of idiots who only know how to think with their muscles," Victor muttered to himself, tossing aside a piece of intelligence about the blockade of the shipping lanes.
He picked up the next intelligence report, his gaze sweeping over it casually before his fingers stopped.
"A bounty for the 'sick girl'?" he muttered, a hint of interest in his eyes.
He read the contents carefully.
"Bounty—Monkey Brando—Live—Ten thousand."
Ten thousand!
"Pfft." Victor clicked his tongue, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table, his eyes gleaming with the shrewdness typical of a businessman.
He certainly knew Tracy, the "sick girl," the female pirate known for her illness and beauty. But what he was more curious about was who this guy named "Monkey Brando" was, that Tracy would offer such an exorbitant private bounty.
It's important to know that, aside from official offers, private bounties exceeding ten thousand pounds are extremely rare, perhaps only once every few years.
Moreover, he also remembered the name Monkey Brando.
He picked up a few more documents from the table.
A commission from "Iceberg General" Edwina is to search for the whereabouts of a missing young adventurer named "Brando".
A secret report from an informant connected to the Church of Storms suggests that the high-ranking officials of the Church of Bayam are also keeping a close eye on a survivor named Brando who went missing in a shipwreck.
As Victor looked at the same name appearing in all the intelligence reports, his expression grew increasingly amused.
His intuition as an intelligence dealer told him that Brando in these three pieces of intelligence should be the same person.
He couldn't help but lean back in his chair, muttering to himself in a tone as if he had discovered an unparalleled treasure:
"Who exactly is this 'Monkey Brando'? Why does it seem like everyone's looking for him?"
"It seems we'll have to utilize the society's intelligence network."
Bayam, evening.
Alger was currently in the crowd, following Danitz at a leisurely pace.
He watched as the other person turned left and right through the intricate alleyways, finally stopping in front of a dilapidated house in an extremely remote location.
"Is this his nearest stronghold? It's really well hidden," Alger thought to himself, hiding around a distant corner.
Going directly to their door won't work! It's too deliberate and might arouse their suspicion.
While Alger was waiting for him to make a mistake and pondering his next move—whether to continue monitoring or find an opportunity to "pass by"—a furious shout from Danitz suddenly rang out from the dilapidated house:
"You piece of shit! You won't get far!"
Immediately afterwards, the door was flung open, and Danitz rushed out in a panic, running towards a more secluded alley.
"The prey escaped?"
Seeing this, Alger was overjoyed and immediately followed.
"Come on, have another drink. You can still drink!"
He had just chased into that narrow, filthy alley when a stinking drunkard staggered towards him, mumbling something incoherently.
Alger frowned, his face revealing undisguised disgust. He slightly turned to the side, intending to go around him.
But the drunkard seemed to have no bones; he swayed and blocked his way again, and a strong smell of alcohol mixed with the sour stench of vomit assaulted his nostrils.
"Get out of my way!" Alger cursed under his breath, unable to maintain his patience any longer. He reached out and shoved the troublesome guy aside.
The drunkard slammed his knees against the brick wall beside him. The wall, which was already in disrepair, made a crisp "crack" sound upon impact.
"What?!"
Before Alger's astonished eyes, the entire wall collapsed with a loud crash!
The rubble and bricks, like a small mudslide, landed squarely on the spot where he had just been standing. The dust kicked up made him cough repeatedly, and his vision became blurred.
In that brief delay, he lost track of Danitz. "Damn it!" Alger cursed under his breath, feeling a surge of frustration. When did his luck turn so bad?
Damn it, where did they go?
Time passed by, and the sun set.
"Bang!"
Just as Alger was about to give up after searching around without success, a sharp gunshot suddenly rang out from another alley not far away!
Alger's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately rushed toward the direction of the gunshot.
To his surprise, as soon as he turned the corner of the alley, he bumped into a familiar figure—the very person on the wanted poster.
Monkey Brando!
He looked injured, one hand clutching a wound in his abdomen, from which blood was gushing out and staining his clothes bright red.
He limped away, trying to escape, his face filled with terror and despair. Not far behind him, Danitz was chasing after him furiously, clutching a smoking pistol.
"Bullshit!"
"Quick! Stop him!" Danitz shouted as soon as he saw Alger.
Seeing this, Alger no longer hesitated. He pushed off with all his might, and his body shot out like an arrow.
Facing the already severely injured and panicked "Brando", he didn't even use any extraordinary abilities. He simply relied on his superhuman physical qualities to swiftly and cleanly pin the other man to the cold, dirty ground.
"Pfft—" Brando, who had been pinned down, spat out a mouthful of blood, struggled a couple of times, and then lay still.
At this moment, Alger's emotions reached their peak.
Danitz actually caught the target worth ten thousand pounds! And yet, he was so careless that he let him get away!
Now, I not only witnessed all of this, but I also helped him catch the man. It would be unreasonable not to give me some money for this!
Thinking of this, he suddenly felt a surge of pleasure.
When Danitz came running up, panting, Alger was still in a grappling position, pressing his knee firmly against his "prey." He intended to have a good talk with Danitz about the ancient and fair topic of "everyone gets a share."
Seeing the smile on Alger's face, Danitz frowned and remained silent.
He had the expression of someone whose good thing had been interrupted.
Hmph, no matter how unwilling you are, it's no use. It was your own mistake that allowed him to get away.
Moreover, the person was still beneath me. Looking at Danitz's expression, Alger felt a little disdainful, but he still smiled.
"Sigh, you got a share too."
Seeing this, Danitz sighed helplessly, seemingly resigned to his fate—he glanced at Alger, then squatted down.
He first glanced at the wound on Brando's abdomen, then reached out to check his breathing, and finally flipped his eyelids.
"Very good, they died just as planned. Black market drugs, mental shocks, plus spirit-destroying bullets—only Brando could come up with that." Danitz forced back his laughter, trying to make his expression appear dazed and annoyed.
"Danitz?" Alger, seeing this, also snapped out of his joy and noticed that Danitz's expression seemed a little off.
After mentally going through all the saddest things in my life...
Danitz abruptly raised his head, glaring at Alger with the look of someone gazing at an enemy, and burst into a tirade:
"Bullshit! I told you to stop him! Why did you kill him?!"
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