Chapter 239 - 238: The Past

「Six years ago. A tropical rainforest.」

Lush trees towered toward the heavens, their dense canopies forming a natural, emerald-green ceiling over the land.

Branches and vines intertwined, allowing only specks of sunlight to pierce the gaps and dapple the forest floor.

The occasional rustle of an animal moving through the undergrowth completed the vibrant, living portrait.

Yvonne Lowell, concealed by the foliage, leaned against a thick branch, her gaze fixed contemptuously on the cluster of log cabins in the distance.

A mask concealed her delicate features, but the mockery in her exposed, fox-like eyes was unmistakable.

"Scumbags. They’ll take any dirty money they can get, but they never seem to worry if they’ll live long enough to spend it."

Her gaze shifted to a large, dark-brown bird perched on a neighboring branch, its back turned to her in a sulk. Her tone grew impatient.

"Clown, I’ve been waiting here forever. Why haven’t those guys made their move yet? They’re dragging their feet. If I go in first, what happens if they mistake me for one of the bad guys and just open fire?"

The large bird turned, revealing its pale yellow and white-plumed chest.

It didn’t screech, but the raised crest on its head clearly conveyed its displeasure with the new name.

She had run into the Philippine eagle shortly after entering the rainforest that morning. Her initial approach had been one of mutual non-aggression: she’d chambered a round in her silenced pistol, then promptly ignored the bird and kept moving.

She knew she generally had a way with animals, but she was still a little intimidated by this massive bird of prey, which was infamous for its savage behavior.

After all, the species was renowned for preying on monkeys, and its hunting method was particularly gruesome: first peck out the eyes, then tear the prey to shreds before swallowing it whole.

And since Yvonne Lowell was just an evolved version of its main food source, who was to say it wouldn’t add her to the menu?

But in the end, not only had the dumb bird not attacked her, it had followed her all this way, and then promptly gone into a sulk just because she’d casually remarked, ’You’re a little ugly...’

"Alright, stop being mad. Your parents gave you those looks, it’s not your fault."

Yvonne Lowell reached out and, just as she’d hoped, got to ruffle the feathers on its belly. ’It feels surprisingly soft,’ she thought.

Clown: ’Why am I even angrier now?!’

The sound of shouting and pained screams erupted from the direction of the cabins, and Yvonne Lowell’s gaze snapped toward them.

When she saw her new moneybag standing at the door, fuming in a powerless rage, a dark glint flashed in her eyes.

"Tsk. Ten more minutes. If they don’t give me an opportunity to clean up the mess, I’ll have to make one myself."

...

"Boss, the intel was wrong! Upton himself is in the cabin! The one outside the rainforest is a decoy!"

"All units, attention! We have eyes on the target! I repeat, we have eyes on the target!"

The speaker was lying in ambush in a patch of tall grass, his camouflage allowing him to merge seamlessly with his surroundings.

His face was covered in thick grease paint, obscuring his features.

He was holding a pair of binoculars, his eyes fixed warily on the cabins.

Another man’s voice crackled through his earpiece. "Proceed as planned! Engage on sight if you have to. Don’t let a single one of them escape!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Yes, sir!"

After receiving the command, a group of figures in dark green fatigues, who had long been lying in wait throughout the rainforest, began to advance stealthily on the cabins from all directions.

...

Upton had just moved a huge shipment, made a fortune, and was ready to kick back and enjoy life for a while.

But then, the useless meatheads on his payroll told him Aurelia had issued an international arrest warrant and was coming for him.

He had always made his subordinates handle business there, never once setting foot in the country himself.

’Son of a bitch!’ What else could it be? There had to be a mole in his crew!

So, he had arranged for a decoy to impersonate him outside while he, along with a few of his most trusted men and a team of enforcers, hid out in the rainforest.

They had built these cabins on a previous hunting trip; now they were using them to lay low.

His group had been in the rainforest for three days, and he hadn’t noticed anything unusual about his confidants.

But just as he was starting to relax, thinking the problem must be with his low-level grunts, the real rat finally showed its face.

Upton held a cell phone, his eyes filled with venom as he glared at the wiry man curled up on the ground.

"Rat, you really buried yourself deep, didn’t you? You were with me for six years! I treated you like a blood brother, and you turn out to be a damn mole?!"

"Boss, it wasn’t me! That was my account information, I was sending it to my grandma!"

The man called Rat ignored the pain wracking his body and desperately tried to explain himself.

"Do you take me for a fool? Didn’t I tell everyone before we came here? No communication devices!"

Upton gave him a vicious kick. "I must have been blind to keep you by my side for so long!"

With that, he snatched a machete from a nearby man and brought it down on him.

Just then, the situation took an abrupt turn.

A bullet flew from an unknown direction, striking the back of Upton’s hand.

The machete clattered from Upton’s nerveless grasp. The entire group scrambled for cover, pulling their weapons and scanning their surroundings.

"Dammit! It’s the cops! Rat must have tipped them off!"

Enraged, Upton aimed his gun at Rat, who was still lying on the ground, and fired several shots. "You’re getting off easy, you bastard! Dying this quick is a mercy!"

The scar-faced man beside him concealed the look in his eyes, tore a strip of cloth from his own clothes, and began to staunch the bleeding from Upton’s wound.

"Boss, just hang in there. I’ll get the bullet out after I take care of these cops."

"It’s nothing, just a scratch. We’ve got plenty of ammo. Let’s fight it out!" Upton patted Scarface’s shoulder, a venomous look in his eyes.

Yvonne Lowell’s hands moved with practiced ease, assembling her sniper rifle without ever taking her eyes off the scene below.

Before long, the sound of a fierce firefight erupted between the two sides.

The gunfire sent the rainforest’s fauna scattering in terror, with birds taking flight in a panicked flurry.

When she saw how Scarface reacted to the opposing force, a knowing smile touched Yvonne Lowell’s lips.

’So that’s how it is...’

Half of Upton’s men were already dead. Realizing he was outgunned, he decided to abandon his remaining subordinates and make a run for it.

As long as he was alive, he could make more money. And as long as he had money, he could always find new men.

If they died, they died. It was only natural for them to die for him.

Upton stuffed some spare ammunition into his pockets and pulled Scarface toward the back of the cabin to retreat.

Scarface had taken a bullet for him before; he was the only person Upton could trust now.

Once he got out of this, there would be plenty of work for Scarface to do. The man had to survive.

"Gotcha."

Yvonne Lowell watched the two figures running in her direction through her scope, and her index finger gently squeezed the trigger.