Chapter 2023 - 1458: Silent Assassination

7:41 AM

In the bakery, Grey Wolf stood at the counter.

The clerk was a girl in her early twenties, her brown hair tied in a ponytail, with a professional smile on her face.

She asked him in English what he wanted.

"One croissant, one coffee, to go," Grey Wolf said.

The girl nodded and turned to get the bread.

Grey Wolf's gaze swept over the glass behind the counter.

It was one-way glass, invisible from the outside, but from this angle, he could see the window of room 316 across the street.

The blinds were still drawn.

The girl handed him the paper bag and coffee; he paid in cash, turned, and walked out.

Just as he stepped out of the bakery, "Squirrel's" voice came through the earpiece: "Position one ready."

Grey Wolf didn't respond.

He walked towards the laundromat, pacing neither fast nor slow, like a businessman ready to pick up freshly laundered shirts.

The laundromat was next to the business center, not large, with a red "24-hour" sticker on the glass door.

Opening the door, a mix of laundry detergent and hot steam hit him. The lady behind the counter was a Turkish woman, in her forties, curvy, and leaning against the counter browsing her phone.

Grey Wolf nodded to her and headed straight for the self-service laundry area at the back.

Rows of washers and dryers were there, with only two machines running at the moment.

Grey Wolf sat on a plastic chair by the window, placed the coffee on the chair next to him, and took a bite of the croissant.

From this angle, he could see the side door of the business center—the exit of the fire escape route.

7:43 AM.

A grey Audi A4 rounded the street corner.

Grey Wolf chewed the croissant, his gaze resting on the car.

The Audi moved slowly, looking for a parking spot.

As it passed the business center entrance, the speed slowed but didn't stop.

The driver was observing—Grey Wolf's first assessment.

But he immediately dismissed this judgment; they were just looking for a parking spot, the parking spaces in the Old Town of Zurich were never enough.

The Audi drove another twenty meters forward, stopping in an empty spot by the roadside.

The engine shut off, the car door opened.

A man got out of the car.

Grey Wolf's gaze swept over him—about 1.75 meters tall, weighing around 75 kilograms, dark grey suit, dark blue tie, brown leather shoes.

Left hand carrying a black leather briefcase, right hand holding a black long-handled umbrella.

Hair grey-white, neatly combed. The side profile featured distinct lines, with frameless glasses perched on the nasal bridge.

It was the target "Accountant."

Grey Wolf took a bite of the croissant, chewed slowly.

"Accountant" locked his car and walked toward the building entrance.

His pace wasn't fast, but each step was steady, his shoe soles making soft sounds on the cobblestone street.

When he reached the entrance, he stopped, took an access card from his pocket, and swiped it across the sensor.

Beep.

The glass door silently slid open.

He walked inside.

Grey Wolf watched his silhouette disappear behind the glass door, then lowered his head and sipped his coffee.

7:48 AM.

"The meter is set." "Squirrel's" voice echoed in the earpiece.

Grey Wolf continued sipping his coffee.

"OK."

He stuffed the last bite of croissant into his mouth, brushed away the crumbs on his hands, and stood up.

He threw the coffee cup in the trash and left the laundromat.

7:50 AM.

Grey Wolf pushed open the glass door of the business center.

The lobby was air-conditioned, warm air greeting him.

The door of the duty room on the right was closed, and the sound of the television was coming from inside.

It was a news live broadcast, the host's voice buzzing indistinctly.

Grey Wolf walked towards the elevator and pressed the up button.

The elevator doors opened; he stepped inside and pressed the button for the third floor.

The elevator doors slowly closed.

Just as they were about to close completely, a hand reached in, blocking the door.

Grey Wolf instinctively scanned the hand.

A man's hand, rough, calloused, with nails cut short.

The door reopened.

A man walked in.

He wore a dark blue uniform with the words of the power company embroidered on the chest.

It was the electrician.

Around forty years old, with somewhat messy brown hair, his face carrying the unique fatigue of the morning.

In his hand, he held a grey toolbox.

The electrician nodded to Grey Wolf and reached out to press the button for the fourth floor.

Grey Wolf nodded in response, his gaze shifting to the stainless-steel panel on the elevator door.

The elevator started to ascend.

Soft mechanical whirring, the steady sound of Grey Wolf's breathing, the rustle of the electrician arranging his toolbox.

The third floor arrived.

The elevator doors opened; Grey Wolf stepped out.

Behind him, the elevator doors closed, continuing upwards.

Grey Wolf stood in the hallway, unmoving.

He listened to the elevator ascending until the sound disappeared. Then he turned and moved toward the direction of the emergency stairwell.

The door of the stairwell was green, marked with an emergency exit sign. He pushed it open, slipped inside, and stood in the stairwell.

Thirty seconds later, he heard footsteps coming from above.

The electrician descended from the fourth floor, heading into the depths of the hallway.

Grey Wolf waited for the footsteps to fade, then pushed open the door and returned to the third-floor hallway.

7:52 AM.

He headed towards room 316.

The hallway was carpeted in dark grey, soaking up all the footsteps.

On either side were solid wood doors, each with a frosted glass panel, bearing the room number and company name.

As he passed 314, he heard someone inside making a phone call, speaking in French, their voice low and unclear.

Light streamed through the gap under the door of 315, but there was no sound.

Finally, Grey Wolf reached 316.

The frosted glass on the door was etched with "Alpine Consulting," the small letters underneath faded but still recognizable as "Established in 1998" and similar words.