Time was of the essence, and Ronan quickly confirmed that Anna was indeed not at the warehouse but had been transported elsewhere.
Where she had been transported to, Murad was also unsure.
Paris was too vast, with no clear individuals or locations to start searching from.
Only one thing could be confirmed – because Anna was a virgin, tomorrow night, she and the others would be gifted to a prominent figure by either Madame Xiang or the Europa Group.
Ronan let out a sigh of relief, knowing that at least Anna's safety would be ensured until tomorrow night.
He took out a pre-prepared rope, securely bound Murad, and sealed his mouth shut with duct tape. Only then did he notice a girl lying on the ground, her body covered in whip marks, with sensitive areas mangled and bloody.
The girl was lifeless.
Inside the room, several suitcases were open, containing automatic rifles and rocket launchers. An empty rocket launcher was discarded on the ground.
Ronan picked up one and saw that about twenty people had gathered not far from the front of the office building, seemingly planning a rescue. He quickly shouldered the launcher, aimed slightly, and fired a rocket.
With a deafening blast, all twenty individuals were thrown to the ground!
In the distance, cries and howls echoed like ghosts.
Seizing the opportunity, Ronan grabbed an automatic rifle and kept firing in the direction of the Albanian group, killing six or seven more armed men.
With most of their elite gunmen gone and unable to reach their leader, the remaining Albanian gang members panicked. Dozens of them fled towards the warehouse exit.
Ronan checked other windows in different directions to make sure no one was approaching to cause trouble.
Returning to the room with the weapons, he pulled out a badge hanging around his neck, activated his spiritual vision using soul fragments, and stored the remaining rocket launcher, several rocket rounds, two M4 automatic rifles, and their magazines inside the badge's dimensional space.
Dragging Murad downstairs by one leg, Ronan found a car in the adjacent garage. He placed Murad in the back seat and drove towards the warehouse entrance.
While on the move, he activated his spiritual vision, harvesting soul fragments.
All he collected were +1 soul fragments!
The henchmen who had fled had already opened the gate, smoothly escaping the warehouse.
Arriving at the previous parking spot, Ronan switched cars, throwing Murad into the trunk.
As the car started, Marco and Murad exchanged surprised glances, their eyes moist with tears, communicating in silent sobs.
It was as if they were saying, "Son, you were here all along!"
"Dad, why are you here too?"
Ronan swiftly left the 93rd province, stealing an Audi A6 from the mob on the way, swapping the father and son into the new car, and taking a detour into the 16th district.
This was the affluent residential area of Paris, boasting numerous expansive mansions.
From Marco's account, Ronan learned that Murad had secretly purchased a mansion in the 16th district for hiding important resources and temporarily unprocessed cash.
Only they, the father and son, knew of this place.
Using Murad's fingerprints, they entered the mansion. Ronan parked the car in the garage without going upstairs. He took Murad and his son, one limb each, and dragged them into the basement.
Opening a secure door in the basement revealed neatly stacked bundles of €3 million bills on shelves.
Each bill had a high denomination, making money laundering a challenge.
In another secure vault, there were abundant C4 explosives, weapons, ammunition, and a small amount of evidence related to Europa.
From Murad, Ronan had learned that the Albanian gang had ties to the French security agency. Fearing betrayal, Murad had purchased a large amount of C4 explosives. In case of unforeseen circumstances, he intended to cause chaos in Paris.
However, dealing with the Capital Group and the French security agency wouldn't be easy. Even if some details were exposed, they could likely evade accountability.
They probably had contingency plans in place.
Suddenly, Ronan had a thought. In the original world, Paris had suffered several terrorist attacks, causing both of France's major security agencies to lose face and become the laughingstock of the world...
He wondered if the original world had dealt with the likes of the Albanian gang.
After brief consideration, Ronan entered the second secure vault, opened the badge's dimensional space, and neatly stored a large quantity of C4 and detonators within it.
He added a few handguns and their corresponding ammunition, along with evidence related to Europa.
Then, he returned to the first vault, stuffing money into the space – €3 million bills of both 200 and 500 denominations, all carefully packed.
Money and weapons would prove invaluable in crucial moments.
Leaving the secure vault, Ronan dragged the father and son into a wine cellar. He tore the duct tape off Murad's mouth and said, "Moussa from Durrës, let's be straightforward with each other and not waste time."
Gasping for air, Murad yelled, "Marco! Marco! Wake up! Wake up!"
Marco groggily opened his eyes, managing only weak sounds of agreement.
Ronan drew his dagger, looking at Murad. "I ask, you answer. Delay by a second, and I'll cut off one of his fingers."
"Alright!" Murad gritted his teeth. "But you have to promise to spare Marco!"
Ronan nodded. "I swear by the name of God!"
People have multiple sides. Murad might be a good father.
This thought barely crossed Ronan's mind when he remembered the girl who had died so tragically. He asked, "Where is tomorrow's party held? Who's responsible? Can you get an invitation?"
"It's at Karl-Otto's mansion. He and Luc-Europa often entertain officials there." Murad provided the specific address. "I can't get in, and I can't get an invitation. With my status, how could I be seen?"
Ronan walked towards Marco. "You have a way."
Not daring to delay, Murad hurriedly said, "Yes, yes! I have a way!" He racked his brains, "Karl-Otto is Madame Xiang's Director of Arts and Technology. For each entertainment party, they need top-tier beautiful women. Paris' Parclis-Saint-Germain has access to high-end commodities, closely connected to Madame Xiang and Europa. Perhaps you can use this connection to infiltrate..."
Ronan carefully asked for more details and began to form a general plan.
Before each party, Europa or Madame Xiang would have a designated driver collect high-end women provided by Parclis-Saint-Germain from a specific location.
Ronan continued, "Who is Master Grénoy? Is that name fake? Where is he?"
"No, it's not fake." Murad seemed to recall something unbelievable. "Grénoy is a master perfumer, skilled at extracting the finest fragrances from virgins. Karl-Otto is his disciple."
Seeing Murad's abnormal behavior, Ronan kept his dagger near Marco's hand. "He's extraordinary?"
For the sake of his son's life, Murad had to continue, "I've heard a few words from one of Karl-Otto's confidants. I don't know if it's true."
He took a breath. "That person said Grénoy has been in Paris since the 18th century and is still alive. He can extract unique scents from virgins and turn them into perfumes."
Ronan thought of Master Henri and the ancient one that followed, their soul fragments. Grénoy being in Paris since the 18th century was quite possible.
He's likely a mage too!
"Where is he?" Ronan asked again.
"I don't know," Murad said when he saw Ronan halt the dagger's movement. He quickly added, "I speculate he's in the Binya Cosmetics Tower, jointly established by Europa and Madame Xiang! Binya is a top-tier luxury cosmetics company formed by the collaboration of Europa and Madame Xiang through the French Luxury Goods Alliance..."
Ronan nodded. "Fats and people from Bileina Island, they all end up there in the end?"
Murad lowered his head. "Yes."
Ronan continued questioning, uncovering more details. For instance, the French security agency's cooperation involved a deputy director named Jean-Claude.
The shareholders of this industry chain were connected to most companies within the French Luxury Goods Alliance.
This was an immensely powerful force, rendering individuals insignificant before them.
Even within the French political scene, some might be aware of this industry chain's existence.
They not only turned a blind eye but also indulged in those high-end cosmetics and skincare products to preserve their delicate appearances.
Ronan fell silent for a moment.
The lives of the common people were mere fodder for the elites.
He gathered the recordings and various pieces of evidence, storing them in the badge's dimensional space. He could send them to the media when the opportunity arose.
French media might not be reliable, but the British? Germans? Or Americans?
Ronan wasn't sure. Once massive interests were involved, matters would become immensely intricate.
So, for now, he put these thoughts aside. He needed to first rescue Anna, deal with the rest later.
Murad seemed to know his fate. "Just kill me! Please honor your promise!"
Ronan drew his handgun and shot Murad dead.
"Ah!" Upon hearing the gunshot, Marco woke up, his eyes wide, bloodshot.
Ronan shifted the gun slightly, aiming at Marco's head, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Keep promises to scum like these?
He left the basement, drove the Audi out of the mansion.
Arriving at the bustling 9th district, Ronan abandoned the car, bought clothes for a disguise, and reverted to his original appearance.
The identity of Ryan Brandt would likely soon be on a wanted list.
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