Chapter 1767
Chapter 1767: Unforgivable If He Doesn’t Die (4)
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Finally, it felt liberating.
Flossie Wright tossed the iPad aside, seeing that it was still early, and left the hospital room.
There were "acquaintances" who were unfamiliar with her here, as well as strangers she had never met. Occasionally, she would encounter fellow gamers who would greet her, but most of the time, what she saw were patients or family members with either haggard faces or worried expressions.
Flossie walked past slowly, not intending to observe them.
Alone, on a solo mission, when it came down to success or failure and life or death, she was used to observing others’ behavior to gather more information and reduce the difficulty of the mission.
But as a sniper, certain professional habits remained.
One could say that observing everything around her was instinctual, but when it came to crowded places or areas with too many objects, where details became overly complicated, it was simply a sniper’s nightmare.
Therefore, in the hospital, Flossie would avoid observing others.
It was still easy to spot some clues.
For example, when she passed by surgery, the person walking by her side was holding a dagger.
The dagger was hidden in the sleeve, not easily noticeable unless carefully observed, but for someone like Flossie, who was used to concealing knives on her body, his small actions were crystal clear.
She glanced at him and paused, scrutinizing the person a few times.
Male, under thirty, with messy hair, looking slightly shabby, dressed in very ordinary clothes, with nothing remarkable about him; he wasn’t a staff member of the hospital, nor a patient or family member.
He came with a purpose.
Driven by professional habits, Flossie, upon seeing this type in a crowd, almost without thinking, instinctively followed the person.
When she became aware, she suddenly realized that she was probably getting herself into trouble again.
She followed him from surgery to orthopedics for a distance.
Finally, they arrived at a ward on the third floor.
She moved cautiously, aided by her professional skills, along with the surrounding pedestrians and her hospital gown disguise, making it impossible for him to notice her with his non-professional level.
In the end, Flossie followed him to the entrance of a ward.
The ward door was open, and flirtatious and weak voices came from inside. Flossie slightly frowned, only finding the shameless flirting voice extremely familiar.
Finally, she equated the shamelessness with someone she knew and quickly thought of Marcel Smith.
It could only be him.
Flossie felt a headache.
What trouble has he gotten into this time?
Seeing the target pause at the door, then walk in without hesitation, Flossie paused slightly, then walked towards the ward at a leisurely pace.
If it were an ordinary person, she might have already entered the door...
But, encountering Marcel meant she could only say she was injured and couldn’t act rashly.
"Hey, can I borrow your phone?"
As she passed someone, Flossie’s hand casually brushed past his side, then she said to him as she walked by.
By the time he reacted, Flossie had already swaggered away.
The person looked at her, bewildered.
Borrow a phone?!
Say it and then dash off?!
What nonsense!
He glanced at her and then left, frowning.
He didn’t know that his phone had already fallen into Flossie’s hands.
Pressing the 110 number, Flossie waited for the line to connect, provided the location and mentioned a "homicide attack," then hung up the call.
Meanwhile—
The passerby who had just taken a few steps heard Flossie’s voice from behind, belatedly realizing what had happened, instinctively turned around and ran toward Flossie!
Before he could demand an explanation, Flossie, who had finished the call, tossed the phone back to him without even turning her head.
Watching his precious phone, he frantically caught it.
Once he secured it, he unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief.
"What’s your deal? If you’re borrowing a phone, just say so clearly! Do you know that taking without asking is considered stealing, and what you did is against the law..."
He pointed at Flossie and began to lecture her, but was interrupted by a sudden sound.
From the neighboring ward came a woman’s scream.
The nearly insane screech, so heart-wrenching it could be heard throughout the hallway.
The passerby who was just "criticizing" Flossie nearly jumped in shock, shivering as if his soul were struck.
"Sorry, just reporting something, hope you understand."
Flossie said to him and then quickened her pace towards the ward.
She suspected that the person was there to find Marcel, and although Marcel was unreliable and undisciplined, he was highly alert and had some basic fighting skills, unlike a professional soldier, but still knew some martial arts.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have survived this long.
Facing a few moves from a guy with a knife, even with his broken leg, should not be an issue.
But, that screaming woman—
If it were her, she would have probably dealt with her effortlessly.
Flossie reached the doorway.
She paused slightly, observing the situation inside the ward.
The woman was unharmed, trembling near the window, with no escape route due to being tightly cornered, thus making no move to flee.
Meanwhile, Marcel had rolled off the bed, near the door, tightly gripping his crutch, and facing the knife-wielding assailant, with surprisingly little panic.
"Brother, let’s talk this out without resorting to... using knives! If someone gets hurt, that wouldn’t be great, would it?!"
Furrowing his brows, Marcel spoke to him amicably.
Flossie raised her eyebrows in disbelief.
This guy—
Not putting an end to him would be against justice.
— End of Chapter 1767 —