Chapter 4 The Most Famous Assassins in the World

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May I ask! Do you have a room reservation?" The purest Chinese flowed from the lips of this beautiful and alluring receptionist

The most famous assassin in the world is named Ren Yong

He walked to the bedside, crouched down, and lifted the bed skirt to take a look under the bed, smiling to himself. Sitting on the floor, he took out a round object with a hole in the middle from his pocket, which had two copper wires attached. He then removed his electronic watch from his wrist, opened the cover, and connected the two copper wires to the watch. Gently placing it under the bed, he stood up, checked for any gaps, and quickly exited the room, closing the door behind him

He claims to be an expert in homemade firearms and explosives. However, every time he undertakes a mission with his homemade pistol and bombs, either the gun fails to fire or the bomb misfires. He is often pursued by the target's bodyguards, and when using explosives, either the bomb does not detonate or it explodes prematurely, injuring himself. Each time he returns, he is battered and bruised. This has become a joke in the dark underworld. Nevertheless, his determination to become the world's most outstanding assassin is undeniably admirable.

"Step aside, I am the hotel security."

There is room 1211. After saying this, he took out his identification from his bag and handed it to the waiter

Before the joyful smile could fade from his face, a loud explosion shattered the door into pieces, and the shockwave from the blast propelled him more than three meters away. His cheap suit was torn into shreds, and his hair was singed by the flames of the explosion.

Everyone, please make way; we are doctors

The doctor has arrived, a voice came from afar

The explosion had just occurred a few minutes ago when a cacophony of footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor. The sound of police sirens grew louder, accompanied by the intermittent screech of brakes. Meanwhile, other residents on the 12th floor had also emerged from their rooms to see what was happening, resulting in chaos in the corridor

His target this time is a third-rate American actress, who broke up with her boyfriend after meeting a wealthy man. In his anger, her ex-boyfriend hired a hitman to assassinate her. However, due to the low commission, no one took the job, and he was fortunate enough to receive this assignment from - Tu - Shu.

Haha ... ... It was successful

Several security guards squeezed in to check on the person in distress. The leader crouched down to feel for a pulse and said, "He's still alive, quickly call an ambulance." One of the security guards took out his phone and dialed for emergency assistance.

At that moment, a sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. "I am a police officer," a middle-aged officer in his forties took out his identification and asked, "What is going on?" "I don't know what caused the explosion," a security guard replied.

He is the most famous assassin in the world, Ren Yong

Miss, I am checking into the hotel

I hope this time it will be successful. After saying this, he resolutely stood up, opened the door, and looked around to see that no one was there. He then walked out of the room and arrived at room 1212 across the hall, which was the room designated for this mission.

After a swift check-in, I took the elevator to Room 11 on the 12th floor, guided by the attendant. "Sir, I hope you have a pleasant stay here," the attendant said before exiting the room

The crowd parted to make way for several doctors. The leading doctor instructed the nurses to lift the injured person onto a stretcher and jogged towards the elevator. After pressing the button, they quickly arrived at the lobby on the first floor and exited through the main door. As the cold wind blew outside, the injured person regained consciousness, staring intently at the Hilton Hotel, the site of his one hundredth failed mission, tears of false humility streaming from his eyes

His fame does not stem from never having failed; rather, it is because he has never succeeded at all. He has attempted to orchestrate ninety-nine assassinations, all of which ended in failure.

He stood firmly on the ground, looked around, then lifted his head, puffed out his chest, and strode confidently into the renowned Hilton Hotel.

A taxi slowly came to a stop in front of the Hilton Hotel in New York City. The doorman respectfully opened the car door, and a man of about 30 years of age, of Chinese descent, stepped out. He had disheveled hair and wore a large pair of non-prescription glasses, dressed in a wrinkled, inexpensive suit, while his leather shoes were covered in dust

He took out two pieces of iron wire, one thick and one thin, from his pocket and inserted them into the keyhole. With a click, the lock opened. He quickly pushed the door open, walked into the room, and closed the door behind him, leaning against it and letting out a gentle sigh.