Midair.

Baker, who was suspended in mid-air with a bamboo dragonfly, patted the small flame on his shoulder, and looked at the large and small vehicles rolling and burning at the intersection below with an uncomfortable expression.

Just now he said that today is his lucky day.

Outcome......

was slapped in the face on the spot.

Baker glanced at the New York police car whizzing from not far away, shook his head, and turned back into his original form in the air, heading straight for 820 Fifth Avenue, which was only two blocks away.

Which of my enemies is this?

Baker thought as he took off his bamboo dragonfly, took off his somewhat charred blazer, loosened his tie, and walked towards the wine cabinet bar.

Certainly not Intercontinental's.

The reason why Baker came back two days late was to see how the Intercontinental Hotel would react when he learned that the killers they had sent and the assassins on Tiber Island had been wiped out.

Two days was enough time for them to react.

In this way, Baker can determine whether we can be as tacitly aware of the future as we are now, based on the reaction of the InterContinental Hotel.

Baker also thought about it, Amazon there was him overreacting.

It's not good.

The killer takes the order, anyone can take the list, and even the president will put out a bounty from time to time, let alone Baker.

As long as the five high tables of the Intercontinental Hotel do not end in person, Baker is too lazy to find the door, and then directly kills them.

His current goal is the remaining two self gems, and the others can be put aside for the time being in front of the self gems.

But Baker never expected it.

When he returned to New York, he was greeted by one of his former enemies, or some other person.

Why?

InterContinental is not so bad.

The taxi driver was apparently a refugee who had fled to the Federation from Iraq in recent years.

I thought I could come to the Federation and live the life of a free country and an ideal country that the Federation boasted, but I didn't expect that I would have more jobs and less money, and I didn't even dare to go to the hospital when I was sick, and I had to watch out for the pursuit of the Immigration Department.

"Undertaker?"

"Milton Babbitt."

Baker took a sip of the bourbon in his cup and said a man's name.

Undertaker Milton Babbitt, a member of the criminal world, a killer, but, he never kills himself, but will divide a part of the bounty he gets, and give it to an ordinary person who is hopeless about life or continues to use money, let these ordinary people kill special targets, and then kill himself with a gun.

It's a killer's wonder.

However, it is precisely because of this that the deaths of those targets have never been suspected by the NYPD or other police departments of being killers, but have been attributed to the general revenge of social killings.

The driver just said that.

Don't blame him, his daughter is sick and urgently needs a lot of money, such a person is too suitable for the tool selected by the mourner.

Half an hour later.

Gwen's computer shop.

"Smack!"

"What is this? Faisal ibn Abdul? Why? ”

"Help me find out who he is."

Baker tossed the wallet he had taken from the driver to Gwen, thought for a moment and said, "Look for his family's bank records, there has been a large amount of money coming in recently." ”

Mourners all pay in advance.

However, it is not paid to the tool person who wants to commit suicide, but to the person designated by the tool person to receive the payment.

Gwen paused and said, "No. ”

Baker frowned: "What? ”

Could it be that the mourners have also learned to embezzle the bounty of the tool man, you yourself are a tool man, and you still embezzle the bounty of the tool man you packed, and your conscience is eaten by dogs?

Gwen pushed the glasses on the bridge of his nose: "But I found him has an eighteen-year-old daughter who is hospitalized at San Giulnault Hospital in New York waiting for a heart transplant...... Wait...... Huh, shell companies? ”

Baker nodded.

That's right.

The hand of the mourner, that's right.

After confirming that he had not wronged the wrong person, Baker said to Gwen, "Milton Babbitt, can you find out his information?" ”

"Where?"

"I don't know."

"Probably?"

"New York?"

“……”

Gwen glanced at Baker, then shook her head, her fingers moving quickly on the keyboard, and soon, the New York Police Department, the DMV, and the FBI ...... There is also the data archive of the Coast Patrol pair, which is easily accessed by Gwen.

Four o'clock in the afternoon.

Baker has found the undertaker he was looking for.

"Hello!" Baker sat on the couch in the mourner's home, crossed his right leg, and greeted the middle-aged bald and stomachless undertaker who opened the door and came in with a smile.

The mourner's face changed.

Turn around.

"Bang!"

"Boom!"

"Ahh

Because the right calf was directly hit, he directly hit the door frame with a face, and in an instant, the mourner with bleeding nostrils fell on the ground and screamed loudly.

Baker got up.

"Bang!"

"Call for a second, a bullet."

"Ahh

"Bang!"

“……”

Baker's marksmanship is so good that he can use bullets to create an effect similar to a thousand cuts, even if the target is pierced by fifty bullet holes, as long as Baker doesn't want him to die, the target won't die.

The mourner was cold-hearted, gritting his teeth: "What do you want?" ”

Baker walked up to the undertaker: "Name." ”

"I don't know!"

"Bang!"

"Ah...... I really don't know ......."

"Bang!"

Baker's face was expressionless: "Name." ”

I don't know?

I'm afraid you're not kidding me, and you don't even know the person who issued the bounty, are you still a killer, or are you also a killer who works for heaven?

Cold sweat broke out on the forehead of the mourner: "I have traced it, and the account from which he sent the money was from an overseas bank. ”

Baker shook his head, raised his hand, and with a bang, rewarded the undertaker with another bullet.

Is there really a killer who is tight-lipped for his employer these days?

The mourner twitched on the ground like a carp, and the prosthetic eye in his right eye socket was stared off.

Baker asked again, "Name." ”

The mourners were about to cry, in pain and crying: "I don't believe you went to the vault to look at it yourself, and when I was halfway through the investigation, the person called again yesterday and said that you would come out of the New York airport today." ”

Baker raised an eyebrow: "Vault password." ”

The mourner's snot, tears, and nosebleeds were mixed and looked at Baker: "You promise......"

"Bang!"

"Boom!"

Baker looked at the mourners whose heads were in close contact with the floor, and shook his head a little speechlessly, why do some people still need to ask when they know it's a stupid question.

What is guaranteed?

Promise not to kill you?

Come on.

Isn't it a bit backbone, why didn't you think there would be this place when you sent someone to assassinate me?

Thought I couldn't find you?

……