This Spiritual Energy is Lethal!-Chapter 114 - Enough Time to Squander
Chapter 114: Chapter 114 Enough Time to Squander
After saying goodbye to Bain, Chen Ke and Pihom returned to the gun shop at noon.
Pihom slowly parked the car in the garage and then headed to the safe house with Chen Ke.
Hall and Lucina were not around, probably out preparing for the robbery. Only Priskin was huffing and puffing while repairing a large drill.
The drill was about the size of a small table, equipped with pumps, a battery, and a small fuel tank. A large drill bit was securely fixed in the middle by a square metal frame, with an attached monitor displaying the rotation speed of the bit and the remaining fuel.
If everything went as planned, this beast would be the sole tool for breaking through the bank vault door.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.
“This thing looks massive, Priskin, are you sure we can get it out?” Chen Ke asked, puzzled.
“This thing can be disassembled into loose pipes and components, a travel bag is enough to carry it. But there’s one problem I can’t solve—it might be very noisy…” Puliski tightened the last section of the gas conduit.
“How noisy will it be?” Pihom inquired.
“It could be comparable to a gasoline generator,” Priskin said with a shrug.
“So you’re telling me… when we’re drilling through that door in the bank, the donut shop across the street could hear it?” Chen Ke said with a smile.
“Exactly, but we have no choice. We can’t drill open the vault door with handheld drills; we have to use this one. And I don’t know any ‘Magic’ to silence this big guy,” Priskin said, shaking his head helplessly.
Pihom, rubbing his temples with a bit of a headache, knew they only had a 5-minute window of opportunity for the operation. Once the people inside the bank were under control, the security system would detect anomalies and start a 5-minute countdown…
They had to get the door open within those 5 minutes and escape with the goods.
But now, the noise from the drill posed a new problem. If the noise attracted attention outside and someone called the police, what were they going to do?
“Is there another way we can get through the door?” Chen Ke asked.
“There’s no other way. Bain might remotely hack the vault door’s system, but that’s like sounding the alarm ahead of time,” Pihom said.
“Priskin… you said this thing is about as loud as a gasoline generator?” Chen Ke had an idea.
“Yes, what’s on your mind?” Priskin asked.
“It’s simple. We could bribe a shop to use a gasoline generator for their store’s power supply on that day. That might get people used to the noise,” Chen Ke suggested.
“You’re a fucking genius, Chen Ke!” Priskin said, laughing as he scratched his head. Pihom too clapped his hands, his brow relaxing.
Pihom opened his laptop. Bain had already sent over the bank blueprints through a secure network, marked with various symbols and potential advantages. Pihom’s next task was to turn those potential advantages into reality.
Chen Ke took this time to check his customized rifle, the one named “Countdown to Life,” an M16A2 modified for precision shooting.
He fired a few shots at the safe house shooting range and found that Priskin had already calibrated it for him. Compared to a sniper rifle designed for a 500 to 1000-meter engagement range, Chen Ke found the precision rifle tuned for a 200 to 400-meter engagement range far more to his liking.
He put the rifle back on the rack, satisfied, next to which there was even a label with his name on it.
On a nearby table lay a mask, its paint still not fully dry. Lucina had made it for him, a skull face with an hourglass and crosshair on the forehead, and exaggerated dark glasses for the eyes.
The mask was primarily white with the skull’s teeth painted black, which looked quite menacing. With dark glasses over the white skull face, the hourglass, and crosshair designs inspired by thick blood, these elements added a ferocious touch to the mask’s predominantly somber and dark visual theme.
“The Angel of Death,” Lucina noted down the name of the mask on the nearby notebook.
“Really nice, she’s quite talented,” Chen Ke bent over, admiring the mask up close, hardly believing that one day he would actually receive such a gift.
It was not yet 1 o’clock, still at least 5 hours until dusk.
5 hours… Chen Ke glanced at the countdown timer by his eye, in 5 hours, that would be his entire remaining lifespan. With nothing better to do, he turned on Hall’s PS3 and inserted the disc for “Assassin’s Creed.”
“Aren’t you going to eat something?” Pihom walked over with a box of pizza.
“Thank you,” Chen Ke nodded, although he didn’t need to eat, it was still better not to appear too strange. Pihom tossed the pizza box onto the PS3, then busied himself with other things, probably going out to prepare for the plan.
The pizza was just ordinary – fast food style; sweet and greasy, with chunks of meat and vegetables unappealingly stacked together, adorned with white salad cream and red tomato sauce. Chen Ke took a bite and didn’t feel like taking another.
The title background music of Assassin’s Creed sounded from the television, and because it was the first installment from 2007, the title music wasn’t yet the classic “Ezio’s Family.”
He played until 6:30 in the afternoon.
Seeing that he had less than 10 hours left to live, Chen Ke wasn’t particularly panicked; he was used to it…
At that moment, Lester sent a text message.
“Suit’s ready, come and pick it up or should I deliver it?”
Chen Ke put down the controller, looked around, and the only sound in the safe house was Priskin huffing and puffing while fixing the drill.
“I’ll come over,” Chen Ke quickly replied.
Without further ado, he stepped out and hailed a cab. Half an hour later, Chen Ke appeared at Zio suit shop.
“All set for tonight’s assassination?”
Lester asked with a smile as Chen Ke put the clean suit back on.
“He’s as good as dead, Lester, don’t worry,” Chen Ke replied.
He didn’t know why Lester wanted these three men dead, he didn’t even know the specifics of their identities. However, as long as Lester was willing to pay, Chen Ke wouldn’t inquire further.
A professional killer doesn’t ask unnecessary questions and doesn’t kill unnecessary people; the target is the target, and once the job is accepted, it must be seen to the end, regardless of innocence or grudges.
“Quietly go in, kill the target, and quietly leave. No expression, yeah!” Chen Ke mused while looking in the mirror and tying his tie, his movements still not quite adept.
“I do want to remind you,” Lester said, rubbing his hands. “Try to make the target’s death look like an accident, and don’t screw up too badly. If you get wanted by the entire city, I won’t be contacting you anymore.”
“Alright, Lester. You’ll have to prepare a few more suits for me, though, and provide free cleaning services as a little extra perk for our cooperation,” Chen Ke suggested.
He needed a lot of clothes as after a good fight with people or monsters, the least he could expect were splatters of blood and vomit all over him, and at worst, his clothes would be ripped to shreds.
“That’s no problem, of course. I’ll give you a discount for the bespoke suits… heh heh…” Lester pushed up his glasses.
Chen Ke and Lester didn’t know much about each other’s backgrounds, but if this cooperation went well, Lester could certainly become a potential long-term ally.
