Super Black Technology

(Today is 5.20. But there is no appointment, blah blah, Lanshou, mushroom.)

Central Florida. Third-tier cities: Orlando.

More than 10 foreign affairs personnel from the Watermelon Alliance drove over at the same time and went to a private house in a civilian area.

That was Altaïr's home.

However, what surprised these people was that...

They missed it.

Altaïr disappeared, he was not at home.

The American Officer who got this information panicked, and he immediately called the Orlando Police Department.

"Call out the surveillance at each intersection, and help me find Altaïr's trace."

"Yes, sir!"

At this moment, the secretary in charge of American affairs is very anxious. He wasn't afraid that Altaïr would run away by himself, what he was afraid of was - being kidnapped by other organizations.

If that happens, things get really tricky.

While the officer waited anxiously, more than 10 minutes later, the Orlando Police Department called.

"Sir, we found it! He was not kidnapped. We found him at the space portal toll booth in the suburbs. According to the toll booth authority, this person bought a ticket and went to New York half an hour ago."

What? New York?

"Yes, sir!"

"Okay, help me thank your chief."

"You're welcome, sir! It's an honor for our Orlando Police Department to help the Watermelon League!"

After speaking, both parties hung up the phone.

Afterwards, Mr. Officer made another phone call to the New York City Police Department, asking them to help find Altaïr's trace.

The New York City Police Department has no way to refute the request of the Watermelon Alliance.

Because even the Governor of New York State is a peripheral member of the Watermelon Alliance.

Because of this, the New York City Police Department immediately called out the city-wide surveillance and began to screen Altaïr's whereabouts.

Ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes...

The NYPD still had no idea where Altaïr was. Because New York is so big, it is the economic center of the United States and the world. There are millions of permanent residents in normal times.

How easy is it to find Altaïr's location among millions of people?

The chief of the New York City Police Department was in a hurry.

Fortunately, after another ten minutes, the police station finally saw Altaïr's figure from the surveillance at a traffic light intersection.

He's getting out of a taxi!

And that address is: Park Avenue, Manhattan.

God, why did he go there?

Is it a coincidence? Or by chance? What exactly was Altaïr trying to do?

After receiving the reply from the New York Police Department, Mr. Officer was stunned on the spot.

Not for anything else, because there are two extremely distinguished figures living in the Park Avenue block in Manhattan.

One is: Miss Chu Yun'er, the woman of God Ike.

The other is also: the woman of Ike, Miss Alice.

Fuck, Altaïr doesn't want to go to God Ike, does he!

Is he crazy? No one recommended him, and he couldn't get into those two manors at all.

The elite troops of China and Britain are hidden in those two manors, and they have the unlimited right to shoot and kill.

"Call the headquarters immediately, and ask the headquarters to contact the British Military Intelligence Agency and the Chinese National Security Bureau, and ask them to show mercy. Altaïr is a member of our Watermelon Alliance!"

"Yes, sir!"

...

New York. Manhattan Avenue. Alice Manor.

The British soldiers who were standing guard suddenly frowned because they saw a sneaky middle-aged man.

This person has been lingering at the opposite intersection, watching the manor "quietly" from time to time.

Could it be a spy?

"No. 7, No. 9, you two go over and ask!"

"Yes, Captain!"

Upon hearing the order, the two British soldiers immediately left their posts and walked towards the opposite intersection. The right hands of the two kept pressing their waists, their eyes full of vigilance.

Seeing this scene, the middle-aged man suddenly felt a little terrified.

At this moment, the man wanted to back down and leave the place quickly.

However, for some reason, the man seemed to suddenly think of something. He gritted his teeth and walked towards the two British soldiers.

Such an abnormal behavior made the two British soldiers feel nervous.

Somehow, they seemed to feel a powerful threat from this strange middle-aged man.

This feeling is so strong, as if facing a beast.

Who is this person?

At this moment, two British soldiers suddenly drew their pistols and aimed at the middle-aged man's head.

"Stop! Stop! Put your hands up, put your hands on top of your head!"

Hearing this, the middle-aged man immediately stopped walking and raised his hands high.

"Don't shoot, I'm an American, please don't shoot, don't shoot!"

On the street, countless people stopped in their tracks, and many people exclaimed:

"God, what happened?"

"Could it be that some villains want to assassinate Miss Alice? God, where is our federal prodigy? Is he still in Alice Manor?"

"Whoever dares to harm our little Ike is our enemy!"

"Yes! No one is allowed to assassinate our little national treasure!"

"Protect Little Ike! Protect Little Ike!"

A group of Americans shouted slogans and surrounded the middle-aged man.

"Protect Miss Alice! Protect our English roses!"

The British tourists also shouted slogans and rushed towards the middle-aged man...

"boom----"

The British soldiers fired their guns into the sky, and the loud gunshots resounded in all directions, making all the onlookers stop.

If so many people rushed to the manor, the situation would become extremely complicated.

If there are other killers hidden among these onlookers...

can not imagine!

unimaginable!

"Nighthawk! Nighthawk! The sentry is calling for Nighthawk! There is an emergency at the door, are you allowed to shoot?"

The duty captain shouted loudly with a military headset.

With the sound of this call, in less than a minute, two tactical teams rushed out of the manor with automatic rifles in hand.

The one who ran at the front was none other than Mr. Smith, nicknamed - Agent Nighthawk!

In the extreme fear of the middle-aged man, Nighthawk came to him.

"Your name is Altaïr, isn't it?"

Nighthawk's voice was cold, so cold that it made people shiver.

Hearing the question, the middle-aged man nodded quickly: "Yes, yes, I am Altaïr! Sir, I am not a bad person, I am really not a bad person! I am here to find God Ike, please help me ! I'm really not a bad person!"

"Altaïr, you should feel lucky: if the call from the Watermelon Alliance is half a minute late, they will have to collect your body!"

"Sir, I..."

"Come with me! Mr. Ike knew you were coming, and told me to take you in!"

"Yes, yes! Thank you sir, thank you!"

As the onlookers watched, Altaïr followed Nighthawk into Alice Manor.

At this moment, no one knows why Altaïr risked his life to find God Ike today; no one knows what he wants to ask God to help him.

Is it love?

or money?

Or... fruit of life?