"Why is she here?" Ronan questioned himself, confident he wouldn't mistake the person.
The high slit of the evening gown revealed two legs that he had personally measured and experienced the formidable force when they were clamped together.
Something felt off in his heart, but now that the person was already inside, retreating was not an option.
Following the directions he had observed during the day, Ronan walked towards the backyard. Despite wearing a face resembling both Zhang and Mikou, he didn't dare be careless, avoiding people as much as possible. After all, he had no idea about their accents or walking styles.
Voices constantly buzzed in his earpiece. The security measures tonight were extremely strict, especially near the perimeter wall, where there were sentries stationed about thirty meters apart.
There weren't many people on the channel, probably less than ten.
"Subject number one has passed security check," a woman's voice came through the walkie-talkie. "No anomalies detected."
The head of security stated, "Take her to the room on the east side of the second floor. Their agents have finished inspecting the room and are waiting."
Ronan noted the room number. Who was subject number one? The newly arrived Katarina, her companion, or Anna?
Another voice piped in, "The minister's car has arrived!"
The head of security responded, "Laka, prepare subject number two. When the minister goes to the room, take her to the second floor immediately." He emphasized, "Pay attention! Pay attention! Use the west-side staircase. They are the most important guests; avoid any unpleasant incidents."
"Understood!"
The head of security continued, "Emergency team, remember, after the VIPs close their room doors, do not disturb! Do not disturb!"
The two most important guests? After listening for a while, Ronan speculated that either subject number one or subject number two was likely Anna.
Grenoye gave up making perfume, reserving it for a significant person—the gift suggested their importance.
He couldn't ask directly, as that might expose him.
Find someone quickly! Ronan surveyed his surroundings, seeing no one, and headed towards the villa's rear wall.
Patrolling guards passed by, their footsteps audible.
Ronan remained still in the shadows, his figure blending seamlessly with the darkness.
Two men in black suits passed by from six or seven meters away, utterly oblivious to his presence.
Once they left, Ronan moved towards the east, using disguises to easily evade two patrols. Taking advantage of the patrol gap, he reached a corner of the wall, kicked off it, and climbed up.
He opened a window and slipped into the pitch-dark room.
Thinking it was empty, he suddenly heard a sound and hid behind the curtains.
If he could avoid exposure, he would strive to do so.
It was one thing for him to be alone, but rescuing someone would complicate matters.
His operational capabilities would undoubtedly significantly decrease.
This was a luxurious suite with excellent soundproofing. Once the windows were closed, no outside sounds could be heard.
From the bathroom, intimate sounds of a man and woman could be heard.
Ronan felt annoyed and decided to leave to find another room.
"Oh, dear, you're so amazing!" A familiar female voice exclaimed, "How do you manage it all? I read in the newspaper that you have hundreds of lovers and can go on more than ten dates in a day."
Another voice, slightly elderly, replied with a laugh, "Want to know? Haha, I have a deer. Its blood is magically potent, like a spell, always keeping me energized!"
Upon hearing this, Ronan stopped.
A deer? Blood like magical power?
The essential ingredient for the promotion of a Marauder, the raw material for Soul Cooking—magical blood of a big deer!
Could it be this?
His own strength was his only reliance in this world!
Ronan wouldn't miss an opportunity to enhance his abilities!
"Really?" the woman asked.
The old man said, "Of course! Many of my lovers have tasted it. After drinking it and engaging in activities, it's like flying in the sky. If there's a chance, I'll take you."
The woman became even more enthusiastic.
The room door made a barely perceptible sound, and two Latinos in suits entered quietly.
Sergio knew that the situation wasn't good upon hearing the intimate sounds. His majesty hadn't consumed the coffee they had brought.
He exchanged a look with his companion Ramos, silently asking, "What should we do?"
With no way out, Ramos directly said, "Take action!"
The old man heard their words and shouted, "Who's there? Intruders!"
Sergio pulled out a syringe and rushed toward the bathroom.
"What are you doing?" King Elias of Ilia saw his most trusted guard charging towards him and demanded, "Sergio, have you lost your mind?"
Sergio replied, "Your Majesty, for the honor and safety of the country, I must suppress your desires!"
Hearing this, a naked woman rushed forward, exclaiming, "Don't harm His Majesty! I'll fight you!"
Sergio kicked her back with one swift motion!
King Elias wrapped himself in a towel, his gaze coldly fixed on Sergio.
At this moment, Ramos turned on the lights in the living room and immediately noticed that something was amiss by the window. "Who's there?"
He reached for the gun hidden in his clothes.
Ronan was faster. He drew his dagger and threw it, hitting Ramos's right arm directly!
Ramos let out a pained cry, and the handgun he had just taken out fell to the ground. He shouted, "Sergio, quickly! Finish the...!"
Ronan's speed was astonishing. He kicked the handgun away, grabbed Ramos by the neck, and slammed his head against the wall.
Sergio clenched the syringe and lunged at the old man.
With the situation exposed, the mission had to be completed no matter what, so as not to let King Elias's desires threaten national security again, embarrassing the entire kingdom!
The naked woman on the floor, ignoring her pain, used her head to ram into Sergio's legs!
This was an opportunity, a once-in-a-lifetime chance!
A chance to change the course of her destiny!
Sergio charged forward with urgency, but his leg tripped over the woman's face, causing him to fall.
Just as he attempted to get up, a fist descended.
With a thud, his ears were ringing, and he became disoriented.
Ronan followed up with another punch, completely knocking him unconscious.
"It's you?" The woman looked up.
Ronan glanced down, confirming it wasn't Anna, but Katarina, the one he had brought.
The old man had encountered countless special agents, soldiers, and bodyguards. He was somewhat surprised by Ronan's skills, but there was an air of composure about him as he asked, "Who are you?"
Ronan quickly opened the badge space, seemingly taking a syringe out of his pocket and administering a half-dose of sedative to each of the fallen individuals. He said, "I saved you. You owe me compensation."
Katarina, behaving like a maid, diligently assisted the elderly king in fetching his clothes.
Hearing the conversation moments ago, along with the presence of the same Latin faces, Ronan had a suspicion, "Your guards have betrayed you."
"Oro-Iberia the First." The old man had experienced countless storms and tempests in his life. Raised under a dictatorship similar to Hitler's, he possessed a keen sense of judgment: "You need to get me out of here to truly save me."
His most trusted guard's betrayal left Iberia in disbelief. Examining Ramos, who lay on the ground, his expression turned exceptionally grave.
This was an agent of the Intelligence Bureau!
In an instant, King Iberia's many years of political experience led him to a swift conclusion.
Only one possibility existed—after decades of loyalty and camaraderie that had steered the kingdom onto the right path, his trusted ally, Director McCullen of the Intelligence Bureau, had betrayed him!
All the guards were untrustworthy, even the hotels and embassies where they lodged were now suspect.
No one understood that old man's capabilities better than him.
Thirty years ago, he had taken over the reins of power from a dictator, officially ascending the throne. The kingdom was teetering, and it was McCullen who helped him stabilize the situation, quelling internal and external threats, transforming the nation into a developed country.
Quickly dressing himself and picking up the fallen gun, Iberia asked, "What do you want in return?"
Ronan stated directly, "I want that magical deer of yours!"
Iberia's proudest and biggest weakness in his life was his fondness for women.
As a normal man, who would be willing to let someone destroy their pride? He responded, "Alright!"
Ronan wasn't a pushover either; in a short time, he had considered many things.
Iberia's identity could be used to his advantage, bringing significant aid tonight!
For instance, during their departure.
Ronan didn't want to waste time. He said, "Come with me to rescue someone!"
Quickly straightening his clothes, he opened the door and stepped out. Iberia concealed the gun in his inner pocket and followed Ronan outside.
Katarina wouldn't miss such a chance; she trailed right behind Iberia.
The villa covered a vast area, and the second-floor corridor followed a typical Y-shaped layout.
Katarina was clearly more of a decorative presence. She asked in a hushed tone, "Can we trust him?"
Iberia said, "If he wanted to kill me, he would have acted already."
Ronan glanced back and saw Katarina had shrunk behind Iberia.
"Cooperate with me." Ronan was straightforward, whispering a few words.
Iberia immediately moved to the forefront. Ronan, like an official bodyguard, walked closely beside him.
As they reached a junction and turned onto the west corridor, two men in unmistakably non-French black suits stood before a room's door at the end of the corridor.
Iberia assumed a confident posture and walked towards them. Since he didn't know who was inside, he vaguely stated, "I need to see him."
Recognizing Iberia, the balding one politely said, "Your Majesty, Minister Cleve is not currently available..."
Iberia didn't stop, arriving in front of the door. "Notify him!"
The man had no choice but to turn around to knock on the door. Meanwhile, Ronan silently invoked "Steel Claw," stepping forward and striking the balding man's throat with a lightning-fast left punch. He used his right hand to grip the other man's head and smashed it into the wall behind him with force.
After a resounding thud, the man slowly collapsed.
The balding man had exceptional physical qualities. While clutching his throat, he struggled to stay standing, but his breathing was obstructed, and he couldn't make a sound. He reached for his gun.
Ronan's right hand swung back, and his fist hammer-punched the man's temple. The balding man's eyes rolled back, and he fell.
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