Chapter 2024 - 1458: Silent Assassination (Part 2)

Grey Wolf stood at the door, raised his hand, and knocked.

Three times.

Not too light nor too hard.

It was the standard rhythm of a business visit.

Inside, it was quiet for a second.

Then, a man's voice sounded, with a slight Swiss German accent: "Please come in."

Grey Wolf grabbed the doorknob and pressed down.

The door wasn't locked.

He pushed the door open.

7:53 PM

The office was large.

Outside was the reception area, a black leather sofa, a glass coffee table, and on the table lay a financial magazine.

In the corner was a newly bought Christmas tree, Christmas was coming.

"Poison Snake's" judgment wasn't wrong, the height was just over a meter.

A painting hung on the wall, a printed scenery of Swiss mountains, not valuable.

The door of the inner room was open, a dark wooden desk could be seen, a desk lamp was lit on it, and the light from the computer screen was reflected on a man's face.

The "accountant" sat behind the desk.

He wore a light blue shirt, the collar button was undone, and he wasn't wearing a tie. Glasses were perched on his nose, eyes behind the lenses were looking towards the door.

To his right was a cup of coffee, freshly brewed, still steaming.

To his left was a stack of documents, clipped with a paperclip, filled with dense numbers.

Grey Wolf walked in and casually closed the door.

The lock emitted a slight click.

The "accountant's" expression changed.

It was a very subtle change — eyes slightly widened, pupils contracted, muscles at the corner of the mouth tensed.

Ordinary people wouldn't notice, but Grey Wolf did.

He'd seen this expression on countless faces, it was a signal of vigilance, an instinctive alertness.

At the moment he saw the visitor, he already sensed something was off...

It was killing intent!

It was distinctly felt.

The "accountant's" right hand moved away from the coffee cup and reached under the desk.

"Don't move," Grey Wolf said.

The "accountant's" hand froze in mid-air.

Grey Wolf took a step forward, stood there, looking at him calmly.

The "accountant's" left hand also lowered, both hands flat on the desk.

But his gaze kept scanning — scanning Grey Wolf, scanning the door behind him, scanning the office window.

"Who are you?" the "accountant" asked.

His voice was steady, like a stone pressed deep underwater.

But Grey Wolf could hear the undercurrent beneath the voice, carrying a slight tremor, subtle pauses, deliberately slowed speech.

It was the voice of fear, just suppressed very well.

Grey Wolf didn't answer.

The door was pushed open from the outside, "Squirrel" slipped in.

He locked the door with a reverse hand, without even looking at the "accountant," went straight to the electrical box in the corner.

It was a gray metal box, installed on the wall, inside were the room's circuit switch and network interface.

The "accountant's" gaze followed "Squirrel's" movement.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice raised a little, "This is a private office, you have no right—"

"Squirrel" opened the box, took a palm-sized device from his backpack, and started connecting wires.

His movements were swift, steady, like he'd done it a thousand times.

The "accountant's" gaze shifted back to Grey Wolf.

"Do you know where you are?" he said, "There's security downstairs, across the street is the bank. As long as I shout once—"

"You won't be able to shout," Grey Wolf said.

The "accountant's" lips moved, but no sound came out.

"Squirrel" continued fiddling with his device without turning his head.

He first connected two wires to the circuit switch, used to read electric current data. Then connected two more wires to the network interface, used to cut off the network signal.

Finally, he took a phone-sized object from his backpack, placed it on the inner wall of the box.

It was a signal disruptor, capable of blocking all wireless signals in the office.

Phones, Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, nothing could go out.

"Squirrel" pressed the switch.

The disruptor emitted a very faint hum, then a green light lit up.

"Squirrel" stepped away from the box, nodded towards Grey Wolf.

"Surveillance and alarm are cut," he said, "This room now has no connection with the outside world. The meter readings will show normal, but no signals can go out. If someone calls in, it'll show unreachable. If someone uses a phone to locate, it'll show being in this building, but not sure exactly where."

The "accountant's" face changed.

His hand reached under the desk again.

This time the action was fast, like a startled snake.

Grey Wolf didn't move.

The "accountant's" hand touched a button.

It was a small red button, installed on the crossbeam under the desk, hidden position, needed to bend down to touch. That was the silent alarm switch, connected to the first-floor duty room.

He pressed down with all his strength.

Nothing happened.

The bell in the duty room didn't ring, the alarm light didn't light up, everything was as quiet as before.

The "accountant's" face turned completely pale.

He looked down at the red button, pressed again, pressed again, repeatedly pressed several times.

Still nothing happened.

"Squirrel" finally turned his head, looked at him.

"That button," he said, "is disabled."

The "accountant's" hand withdrew from under the desk, slowly placed on the desk surface.

He looked at Grey Wolf, then at "Squirrel," his gaze carried fear, anger, confusion, and a hint of calm calculation.

That was a habitual reaction of someone who controlled situations losing control.

"Whose men are you?" he asked.