Boom—
Flames erupted from the Governor's Mansion, followed by the sound of explosions that echoed through the air, engulfing the sky in a fierce red glow.
As darkness fell, gunshots and explosions continued to resonate, while an aircraft circled in the sky, sporadically strafing the ground below.
The Governor's Mansion was under heavy firepower attack!
In the mineral water factory and resort on Bireina Island, almost everyone's attention shifted towards the town.
Big-Nosed Raymond couldn't get through to the Governor's Mansion on the phone, so he sent someone there by car to gather specific information.
Elisa saw her opportunity and quietly infiltrated the vacation resort, quickly discovering some unusual traces that led her all the way to the mineral water factory.
Ronan left the town and took advantage of the chaos to head straight for the Frenchman's factory.
With the Governor's Mansion occupied, there was no spare manpower available to send here if things went south.
Based on various pieces of information obtained, the giant chameleon likely had connections to the French, and this connection was crucial for Ronan's advancement as a predator. He was determined to see it for himself.
He absentmindedly touched his bag, the spray paint was still there.
Following the path scouted during the day, he silently approached the back wall of the mineral water factory through the densely wooded forest.
Ronan didn't need any tools to assist him. He slung the AK he had picked up over his shoulder and with a running start, scaled the wall, briefly observing before jumping down.
Thanks to the leopard's swiftness, he landed without making a sound and quickly took refuge in the shadows of a building.
Voices ahead caught his attention. Ronan followed the shadows forward. Two sentries stood on the third floor, talking while looking towards the town.
This seemed like a dedicated observation point.
Ronan was fluent in French, and he could understand what the two guards were saying.
Initially, the guards were discussing what had happened in the town, but the conversation soon turned towards their own situation.
"Has our situation been exposed? After they finish over there, will they come to attack us?"
"Impossible, right? The five who broke in last time were all killed by Master Henry, weren't they?"
Hearing this, Ronan knew he was in the right place.
The two continued talking, one of them quite worried, "We've killed so many people, roasted their fat for oil extraction. Will Master Henry eliminate us too?"
The other guard with a simpler mind responded, "What's there to fear? We're employees of the Obia Group. Keep your mouth shut, nothing will happen."
The first guard added, "Did you hear? The oil we refine is sold at high prices to major cosmetics conglomerates for premium skincare products. The profits are even higher than drugs!"
"I've heard about that too…"
Just as they were speaking, Ronan quietly ascended the stairs and climbed to the rooftop.
The two black men were still enjoying the town's fireworks display, completely unaware that someone had approached them from behind.
Ronan moved swiftly, his steps silent as a whisper. He delivered a powerful blow to the back of one black man's head with an iron fist. Before the other black man could react, Ronan grabbed his neck and pressed a Swiss army knife against his throat.
"Don't speak!" Ronan warned.
The first black man slumped to the ground.
The second black man was sweating on his forehead and instinctively raised his hands.
Quickly, Ronan inquired, "What's your name?"
Feeling the icy edge of the knife, the black man whispered, "Moira."
Ronan continued, "Alright, Moira. I hope you'll cooperate with me. I'll ask a question, and you answer."
"It's none of my business, it's none of my business," Moira thought the factory was in trouble. His voice was low, but his words were rapid, "Really, it's none of my business. I'm just a worker. Whatever the Obia Group tells me to do, I do."
Ronan asked, "Does Master Henry have a giant chameleon?"
Moira's neck throbbed slightly. He hurriedly said, "There is a large reptile, lying still it's hard to notice. Its claws and tongue are very powerful, easily capable of killing. I don't know if it's a giant chameleon…"
Ronan breathed a sigh of relief. With a clear target in mind, the rest became easier. "Where is Master Henry? Does that reptile follow him?"
"The reptile is tamed by Master Henry, always following him," the black man was here to earn money, not to die. He blurted out, "Master Henry is in charge of oil refining, usually staying in the refining workshop."
Ronan's knife approached again, and the black man immediately pointed towards the largest workshop, saying, "That's the one."
"Don't kill me!" He was afraid of Ronan's intent: "I really haven't done anything. I've never killed anyone with my hands. I'm either on guard duty or supervising unloading. They think I'm dumb, so they never let me into the workshop, never involved in refining the people oil…"
Ronan had overheard downstairs and now inquired, "Where do the people for oil refining come from? What is the oil used for?"
The black man said, "The people are captured or bought from countries like Venezuela and Colombia. The Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia and the opposition forces in Venezuela cooperate with the Obia Group, providing raw materials in exchange for money."
Ronan wasn't surprised by this answer. Many countries in South America were politically unstable.
"Master Henry oversees the oil refining. The refined oil is all shipped to France." The black man continued, "The Obia Group then sells the oil at a high price to cooperating cosmetic companies as a part of premium skincare products. It's said that these cosmetics don't harm the skin and have excellent nourishing effects."
Ronan tightened the grip of his knife, "And what else?"
"There's... there's..." The black man's survival instincts kicked in, he started thinking, recalling useful information, "The latest batch of cargo was just loaded onto a ship at nightfall and sent away. It's probably on a seaplane now, heading to Paris."
In the face of life and death, he had never thought this fast before, "And also, among the cargo, there are several girls, all virgins. They're being sent to Europe for making perfumes. Two of them were captured this afternoon by Bopa, the leader of the mercenaries on the island..."
Ronan was very curious. What kind of perfume required virgins as ingredients? However, he was more concerned about his own situation and asked, "How many mercenaries are here? What's their firepower like?"
The black man replied, "There are over thirty people, all with automatic rifles. They're spread out around the factory and key locations in the resort."
Ronan nodded. Another explosion came from the direction of the town's Governor's Mansion, flames soaring higher. It seemed like the oil depot might have exploded.
The black man also looked towards the town.
Ronan no longer asked, nor would he leave any potential threats. These scoundrels who were using people for oil deserved to die!
A knife pierced the black man's neck at a vital spot, and another kick snapped the neck of the second black man. Ronan activated his spirit vision, collecting two soul fragments +1. He retrieved USP pistols from the waistbands of the two black men before heading downstairs.
It was evident that these two black men were mercenaries.
The factory area wasn't large, and Ronan moved swiftly. Using the cover of the night, he arrived near the entrance of the largest workshop.
This wasn't an ordinary steel structure building; it was made of poured concrete. The Obia Group clearly intended to establish a long-lasting operation here.
At the entrance of the workshop, two mercenaries stood guard, their attention also drawn to the commotion in the town.
Ronan approached from behind, taking swift steps. Before the mercenaries could react, he severed their throat and neck arteries. They could only writhe on the ground.
He retrieved a card from one person's waist, swiping it to open the door.
As the iron door swung open, someone began to ask, "Arthur, you—"
The words didn't complete before a cold sensation spread across the throat. The sound of a strange, choked noise echoed as he tried to pull the military knife lodged in his throat, but his strength failed him.
Ronan walked over. Seeing the mercenary had a military dagger on his waist, he pulled it out and held it in his hand.
The management of the workshop was quite strict. Ronan saw changing rooms, showers, air showers, and disinfection rooms, but he didn't have time to waste. He barged in directly.
At the exit of the disinfection room, a manager was there. Seeing Ronan, he realized something was wrong. Just as he was about to press the alarm button, Ronan was already in front of him. A dagger pierced his throat at a vital spot.
Just like he would deal with the hitmen and runners of drug cartels, since he knew what these people were doing, Ronan showed no mercy.
Entering the main workshop, the scene before Ronan caused his footsteps to unconsciously slow.
Transparent toughened glass enclosed a massive electric oven. Inside the oven, headless bodies hung upside down. Their innards had been removed, and they resembled roasted pigs, hanging there and being roasted at high temperatures.
Drops of oil flowed down, collected in containers.
Was this what they called oil refining?! Ronan asked himself. Even though he had seen darkness and filth countless times, he couldn't help but be shocked at this moment.
Were these oils truly taken by the Obia Group and sold as industrial or commercial raw materials?
Ronan thought of Marx's famous saying about capital...
The extent of human evil had reached this level!
"F**king hell!" Ronan couldn't help but curse in his mother tongue. Even though he had witnessed endless darkness, experienced torture, and imagined extreme evil in the human realm, at this moment, he was still burning with anger!
It wasn't about any interests, power advancement, or personal connections.
It was solely about the most basic emotions and conscience as a human being!
Footsteps sounded from the left. Ronan drew the USP pistol he had taken from the black man, aiming it in that direction.
A person in a white lab coat turned from the other side of the oven. Upon seeing Ronan, he immediately said, "Why aren't you wearing the work uniform—"
Bang—
Ronan's shot blew his head apart!
At this moment, Ronan no longer concealed his presence.
He just wanted to kill, to eliminate all these monsters!
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