P.M., a suburb of Washington, a villa.
"The smoke from the cigar is poisoned."
On the living room sofa, Thomas let out a thick puff of smoke, grinned, and spoke the threatening words to the two people in front of him.
Upon hearing this, Mr. Clent’s expression remained unchanged, and he picked up the wine glass again for a sip, saying indifferently:
"Thomas, how many years has it been, and you never thought to change your tactics?"
"It doesn’t matter how old the trick is as long as it works."
Thomas chuckled, took another deep draw from the cigar, and exhaled a layer of visible smoke.
He then turned his gaze toward Luo An, noticing that Luo An appeared even more composed than Mr. Clent, with no change in expression. Thomas, slightly surprised, said with a smile:
"I’ve heard of your na, Luo An Greenwood, the most outstanding Group Leader of the FBI Washington Headquarters, correct?"
Without waiting for Luo An to reply, Thomas continued:
"Both you and your superior are now poisoned. It looks like Clent does not plan to let go, prepared to trade what little life he has left to put in prison.
So what about you, young Group Leader Greenwood, what’s your plan?"
Under Thomas’s expectant gaze, Luo An chuckled, and then... he suddenly grabbed a wine glass from the table and threw it at Thomas.
Smack—
Thomas reacted swiftly, dodging the wine glass to the side. The glass hit the floor and shattered into pieces with a crash.
Thomas snorted coldly, getting ready to speak, only to see a dark shadow pouncing toward him— it was Luo An!
Thomas was shocked by Luo An’s speed, quickly kicking out to push himself backward and knocking the armchair behind him to the ground to evade the attack.
Thud—
The armchair hit the ground with a dull thump in the room, and Thomas hurriedly tried to tuck in his legs, scrambling off the ground to fight back.
Before his limbs could move, Thomas’s face changed slightly; he felt his left leg being grasped.
The next second, a force far beyond imagination struck from his left leg; Thomas felt like a rag doll, actually being flung through the air!
With his hands gripping Thomas’s left leg, a cold light flickered in Luo An’s eyes as he forcefully threw him against a wall.
Bang—
Another dull thud echoed as Thomas’s back slamd hard against the wall, the intense pain nearly making him vomit blood; he gasped for air as he fell to the floor:
"My back..."
Luo An had no intention of stopping, and in the blink of an eye, moved in front of the wall, delivering a heavy whip kick.
"You damn brat!"
Feeling the wind cutting through the air from the whip kick, Thomas’s face turned pale as he cursed, quickly raising both arms to protect the side of his head.
Crack—
The second his arms ca into contact with the whip kick, the sound of bones breaking and the instant pain that shot into his brain made Thomas’s eyes widen in shock.
Thomas had no chance to speak; under the fearso force, he couldn’t keep himself seated up straight. He was kicked over and his head hit hard on the floor.
"Congratulations, Mr. Thomas, you are under arrest."
Glancing at Thomas’s arms twisted in a seemingly unnatural direction, Luo An knelt down, pressed his knee into Thomas’s back, and firmly handcuffed his ankles, speaking softly:
"You have the right to remain silent. If you choose not to keep silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
This sentence originates from the Western "Miranda warning," a procedural phrase well-known to all in the federal sphere, spoken by federal police during an arrest.
However, Luo An seldom uses this phrase; either he ends his enemies with a direct gunshot without the opportunity to speak, or the phrase is uttered by other mbers of the investigative team while Luo An can’t be bothered to say it.
"You mother fu-ker!"
Thomas, pinned to the floor, cursed loudly and finally couldn’t help but spit out blood. On one hand, his fractured arm filled him with rage, on the other, Thomas bellowed:
"I’ll say it one last ti! I’ve already poisoned you! If you don’t want to die, let go now! Otherwise, even in death, I will not give you the antidote!
Mr. Clent! You damned old fool! Make this sneaky bastard let go of right now!"
Seated on the sofa with a wine glass, Mr. Clent was sitting upright with an expression of bewildernt on his face, not yet fully comprehending the situation.
Luo An’s actions were too swift. Mr. Clent only felt that he blinked, and Thomas was thrown, knocked down, and finally handcuffed and firmly controlled by Luo An.
Reflecting carefully on the past few seconds, Mr. Clent at last ca to his senses, looking at Luo An with utter surprise.
Mr. Clent knew of Luo An’s skills; most criminals were personally apprehended by him, with powerful combat capabilities.
But all this was sothing he saw in reports or heard from others’ mouths, Mr. Clent had never witnessed Luo An’s actions in person.
Today, after seeing Luo An in action, Mr. Clent finally realized what people ant by "Luo An is very skilled."
Mr. Clent had seen those special forces in the military, but now he felt that, although those soldiers may have better marksmanship than Luo An, they definitely did not have Luo An’s reaction speed!
As his throat moved, Mr. Clent’s hand shook, not from fright but from awe. Clent had been young once, too, dreaming of being powerful enough to defeat an enemy with a single hit. Luo An’s movents just now were exactly how he envisioned himself in his younger dreams!
"The lie about poison is really uninteresting, Mr. Thomas."
Mr. Clent had been silent all along, Luo An reached out and patted Thomas’ shoulder, saying with a smile:
"Always treating others as fools will only end up making a fool of yourself."
Just stepping outside the villa, Luo An activated his "emotional perception" in his mind, which he had never turned off since entering the villa.
When Mr. Clent took out his handgun, the "emotional perception" had "shuddered."
Whether it was picking up the glass of red wine or being forced to inhale second-hand cigar smoke afterward, the "emotional perception" didn’t issue a warning, indicating that neither was dangerous.
Furthermore, when Thomas said that he had poisoned the cigar smoke, "emotional perception" clearly sensed the emotion of lying.
Luo An ultimately determined that this statent must be a last-minute ploy conjured by Thomas, aid to disrupt the emotions and judgnt of Luo An and Mr. Clent and to buy ti for his own escape.
"Shit!"
The mont Luo An finished speaking, Thomas’ face turned from red to white, and after cursing a few tis, he finally bowed his head and lay down without making a sound anymore.
On the other side, Mr. Clent took a few deep breaths, his hands stopped trembling, and he also cald the excitent in his heart.
"Well done."
Mr. Clent put down his wine glass, stood up and walked over to Luo An, patting him on the shoulder, and asked:
"Thomas, I will ask you one last ti, what exactly did you want the assassin from ’Skull Flower’ to do?"
Thomas closed his eyes, keeping silent.
Seeing this, Mr. Clent could not be bothered to keep asking. He waved at Luo An and said:
"Call soone to take him back."
"Yes, sir."
Luo An smiled and took out his phone to make a call, and Mr. Clent’s secretary quickly ca with people.
After handing over Thomas to them, Luo An was about to talk to the secretary when Mr. Clent beckoned Luo An into his car and said:
"Luo An, tell about the interrogation of that CIA director."
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