After walking for a while, they reached the place where they would rest for the night.

Su Ran was the first to enter the room, and soon someone brought in a late-night snack.

An 2 glanced curiously at the room on the second floor and led the others away.

–

315 Avenue.

An 2 and Dark 3 stood by the roadside smoking.

"Why are you here? Didn't Sister Ran ask you to take over the Eighteenth District?"

An 2 glanced to his side, where a man in camouflage uniform with a mask on his face stood, his age indiscernible.

Only his deep, piercing eyes made it hard for others to meet his gaze.

Both An 2 and Dark 3 usually had their own affairs to handle and seldom met.

Dark 3 held a cigarette between his fingers and blew a smoke ring, his voice cool and calm, "Together, to save running back and forth."

He glanced at a group of people not far away, who were bruised and swollen, and paused his cigarette-flicking motion, "Who are those people?"

"Mercenaries..." An 2 mumbled with a cigarette in his mouth, explained the situation, then chuckled, "They came willingly."

Upon hearing this, Dark 3 also chuckled, a hint of mockery in his cool voice, "Lucky to be alive."

The mercenaries who had just walked up and overheard the two conversing: "..."

No.

They weren't willing.

"What's the matter?" An 2 looked at the mercenary leader standing in the wind, dumbfounded and asked.

The mercenary leader touched his nose and stepped forward, "Bosses, the Martin family's people are almost here, should we... disguise ourselves?"

"Disguise?" Dark 3's expression turned quirky, and his voice raised an octave upon hearing this.

He'd never heard such a strange word in his life.

The mercenary leader, uncertain if it was an illusion, felt like the two were looking at him like they were staring at an idiot, "Yeah, the ICPO is watching us closely now, it's easy to expose our whereabouts without disguising ourselves."

He even cast a special look at the iconic masks on the two's faces.

Compared to them, he thought these people needed disguises more.

Were they afraid the ICPO wouldn't catch them, so they purposely provided evidence?

Wasn't this blatantly telling everyone your identity?

Dark 3 looked at him in surprise, "You mercenaries are afraid of the ICPO?"

Mercenary leader: "..."

What kind of talk is this?

If not for the ICPO, would they be internationally wanted criminals?

Dark 3 looked at An 2 puzzled, did he say something wrong?

An 2 chuckled lightly, "Don't worry, the ICPO's reach doesn't extend here."

"Really?" The mercenary leader was skeptical.

"Mm." An 2 responded calmly.

"That's good then." The mercenary leader relaxed, "So, how do we proceed? Do you have a plan?"

Dark 3's expression turned strange again, "You mercenaries plan your missions?"

Mercenary: "..."

Isn't this nonsense?

How can you complete a task without a plan?

This time, Dark 3 outright looked at him like he was an idiot, "Do you know what robbery is? Just grab and go."

No need for any plan.

Mercenary leader: "..."

The early morning chill wind howled past his ears.

Another gust of cold wind hit, bringing the mercenary leader back to his senses.

Oh crap!

Oh crap crap!!

They seem more like bandits than actual bandits?

Did he get it wrong? Is RSIS actually a bandit den and not an intelligence organization???

–

An hour later, the Martin family's convoy arrived at the border.

They were currently undergoing inspection at the southern border.

That area belonged to M Country.

The black car leading the convoy had the Martin family emblem, so they barely stopped and quickly passed through the checkpoint.

Another half an hour later, the convoy officially entered 315 Avenue.

"Ryan, do you think anyone will intercept us halfway?" The driver looked at the straight road ahead, feeling inexplicably uneasy.

He had heard about the situation on 315 and knew there were some powerful forces here not to be messed with.

Ryan sat leisurely in the passenger seat, looking nonchalant, "What are you afraid of? Didn't Earl Claire arrange for people? Besides..." He glanced at the driver, "Who would dare to rob the Martin family's goods?!"

The emblem on the car wasn't just for show; it was a symbol of authority.

Just as he finished speaking.

"Bang——"

A loud noise.

The car's front left tire suddenly deflated, causing the rear to swerve violently to the right, with a sharp screech breaking the quiet.

The driver quickly corrected the steering wheel and eased the gas, controlling the car and slowing it to stop by the roadside.

The cars behind, caught off guard, ended up in rear-end collisions.

"Who?!" Ryan's expression turned grim, his voice cold.

"Hey, this road I opened, this tree I planted. To pass through, leave a toll."

"Slap——"

As soon as the mercenary made the proclamation, the mercenary leader smacked the back of his head.

"You damn... We're mercenaries, mercenaries! Did you really think you were a bandit?"

The mercenary rubbed his nose, his gaze a bit guilty.

Associating with wolves turns you black too.

The mercenary leader snorted coldly, his eyes carrying a murderous aura.

"You in the car, come out and meet your doom."

Ryan jumped out of the car only to see a group of mercenaries, armed with heavy weapons, standing in the middle of the road.

His pupils contracted sharply.

It was clear the tires were blown out by the things in their hands.

"Who are you people?" Ryan asked with a sullen face, unwilling to believe that someone dared to rob the Martin family's belonging.

The mercenary leader sneered, displaying the aura fitting a mercenary, "You don't need to know who your granddaddy is, just stretch your neck and prepare to die."

"Arrogant!" Ryan was furious.

At this moment, the door of the medium-sized truck behind opened.

A group of similarly murderous mercenaries jumped out of the vehicle.

The two groups faced each other unexpectedly.

"Graveft, it's actually you." The opposing mercenary leader looked at Graveft with particularly cold eyes.

"Hey, boss, isn't that Parker Reynolds competing with you for fifth on the wanted list?" the underling, who had just been smacked by Graveft, suddenly spoke up.

Graveft squinted his eyes, sneering, "So it's you, what? Can't make it now, so you've changed to being someone's lapdog?"

Seeing him appear here, Graveft understood what was going on.

Reynolds's gaze was particularly cold, "Graveft, you have some nerve to intercept even the Martin family's goods."

Graveft cleaned his ear, "I'm intercepting the Martin family."

"Who sent you?!"

"Go down and ask Yama." With that, Graveft made his move, and both sides quickly plunged into a melee.

The previously quiet 315 Avenue suddenly became lively, with the occasional loud bang audible.

Just 30 kilometers away from here, the border checkpoint remained calm, as if nothing was amiss.

Not even a single person came to investigate.

An 2 and Dark 3 concealed themselves in the nearby shadows, looking at the two sides locked in a stalemate, somewhat despondent, "Is this the level of mercenaries today? The ICPO can't even catch them, what are they good for?"