"Attacking the Head? Now that's a serious crime," Scott bellowed, his voice echoing through the vast hall. "And if I remember correctly, you said anyone who breaks the rules should be killed."Zhang Yang, who lay sprawled on the cold marble floor, swallowed hard at Scott’s words. His hands trembled slightly, and a visible sheen of sweat covered his forehead."Please... have mercy," he stammered, barely able to lift his head. "I don't know what came over me. I... I didn't mean to attack you." His voice was drenched in fear, and his heart thudded violently against his ribs.Scott’s expression hardened. He stood towering above Zhang Yang, his jaw clenched tight. "And here I was thinking I could trust you," he said coldly. "But in the end, you're no different from Wang Jian." His tone was filled with bitter disappointment. "And why are you begging for your life now? Weren’t you the same man who insisted I kill that other man earlier? You said all crimes should be punishable by death."As

Scott sat in the jet, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. His breathing, which had been erratic just moments earlier, was finally beginning to stabilize. He leaned back in the seat, trying to regain composure.A moment later, the door to the cockpit slid open with a soft hiss, and Sullivan stepped out. His expression was etched with confusion and lingering shock from the attack."What the hell was that all about, boss? Who were those guys?" he asked, his voice low and cautious, still processing the chaos they had just escaped.Scott didn’t respond immediately. He let out a deep sigh, his eyes briefly closing as he ran a hand down his face."It’s a long story, and now’s not the time to tell it," he said calmly, keeping his tone composed. "Just focus on flying the jet."Sullivan nodded slowly but wasn’t entirely satisfied. “Alright, but… how do we know nothing critical got damaged? I mean, they shot at us like maniacs. What if they hit something vital?”Scott t

Sullivan stood frozen in place after hearing Scott’s words—like a statue carved from fear and sweat. The black parachute bag was clenched tightly in both hands.“No… You can’t do that. That’s suicide.” Sullivan finally muttered, his voice trembling. “Let me do it instead. You get out of here.”Scott turned to him slowly, the roar of the wind outside now creeping through the fuselage like the cold fingers of death. He rested both hands on Sullivan’s shoulders, firm but gentle.“You asked about the rest of the men earlier,” Scott said, his voice lower now, almost lost in the chaos around them. “You want to know why they aren’t here with me?”Sullivan stared into his boss’s eyes, his lips parting slightly, as if dreading the answer.“They’re all dead,” Scott continued. “Every single one. I can't afford to lose another comrade.”He gave Sullivan a solid pat on the shoulder, gripping him tighter. “So stop arguing and do as I say.”Sullivan swallowed hard, emotions swelling in his chest. He

Scott and the Arabic man walked down the deserted alleyway, making their way towards the area where they could hear the voices of people and the sounds of vehicles. Their clothes were completely drenched, but right now, that was the least of their worries. They had no idea where they had landed, and they were trying to figure it out.Scott pulled out his phone from his pocket and glanced at it. The phone was also drenched, but luckily, it was waterproof and hadn’t been damaged by the water. He switched it on while walking forward, his other hand casually tucked in his pocket."You don’t have any idea where we are, right?" the Arabic man inquired, breaking the silence."You keep asking me this exact question every two seconds," Scott muttered. "We both landed in the same ocean at the same time... how do you expect me to know the city or country we crashed in?" he added."I’m just a bit nervous," the man stuttered, his arms folded as he advanced forward.Scott shifted his gaze toward hi

Scott and Ali made their way out of the quiet area, and a few moments later, they found themselves back in the bustling streets of Busan. They both glanced around until they spotted a taxi waiting for passengers, and without any delay, they swiftly headed toward it."Where are you headed?" the man inquired in Korean."To the Gimhae International Airport," Scott informed audibly in the man’s language.The man glared at them from head to toe, his expression a mixture of confusion and disgust. The two men in front of him were currently clad in drenched clothes, and water was literally dripping from them. They weren’t even carrying any traveling bags."Is this some sort of prank or something?" he asked with a frown."No, sir. Don’t pay attention to our appearance—just take us to where I told you," Scott bellowed, pulling out a few notes and handing them over to the man.The man retrieved the cash and examined it with a huge grin on his face. The money Scott had just given him was a lot mo