The Killer Who Had Survived an Execution by Cannon Fire (First Guaranteed Update, Please Subscribe in Full!!!)

Karen had the qualifications to be called the Mother of the God-King in the future.

But…

It was still too early to talk about that.

A few days later.

Lake took Karen to the airport. Only after watching her board the plane did he turn around and leave.

Lake had originally wanted to have a private jet take Karen to Paris, but Karen had laughingly refused.

As Karen put it, a private jet was certainly comfortable, but she found it boring. If she took a commercial flight, perhaps she might meet a future friend sitting beside her.

Lake thought that was highly unlikely, but after considering his own lazy, antisocial personality and Karen’s fondness for making friends, he found himself relieved.

Karen’s term would last until the end of the following year—in other words, until the end of 2007. She would return to Washington, D.C., and after some maneuvering, take over the position of the retiring Minister of Education, being appointed by Mr. President as the new Minister of Education.

Qualifications?

Karen was a board member of several schools in Washington, D.C.

A path for promotion?

Karen had been born with a golden key in her mouth. Judging from the promising trend of her future, there was no doubt that she must have saved the universe in her previous life.

New York Homeland Building.

Medical room.

Swagg was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, resting.

Lake walked in. "How much longer are you planning to freeload here?"

The case could be considered closed. At the very least, the Department of Homeland Security’s part was over.

Swagg opened his eyes and looked at Lake. Shaking his head, he said in a tone that still sounded incredulous, "I still can’t believe it. You convicted them, and they still took my sniper rifle out of my cabin and tried to use it to convict me."

They had clearly wanted to drag someone down with them before they died.

Isaac and the federal agent who had been preparing to leave New York on a smuggler’s boat were escorted to Quantico. Once there, they stubbornly insisted that they had hired Swagg with money. After all, Swagg’s sniper rifle had been confiscated at the sniper’s location right away.

But…

Those people probably never imagined that Swagg’s sniper rifle could not fire bullets. Its firing pin had been subtly adjusted. It was impossible to tell from the outside, but when fired, it simply would not shoot.

Lake had heard that Isaac and the others had all been dumbfounded at the time.

As for that senator and his oil tycoon brother, did anyone really need to ask? The Federation had invited the Vatican over this time precisely to prove that God favored the Federation. With something this serious happening, they were directly charged with terrorism.

Big Capital would not protect them. At this point, it was practically eager for them to collapse so it could swallow up Charles’s oil investment consortium. Over the past few days, the stock price of Charles Oil Investment had fallen below the value of a rag.

Lake smiled. "Your Wanted notice was canceled yesterday. What, are you not planning to go back into seclusion in the mountains?"

Swagg stood up and smiled bitterly. "The mountains? They bombed my house, and my dog…"

"It’s gone."

"…"

Lake cut him off. "I heard it died horribly. When my people found it, it had been chewed down to a skeleton—and only half a skeleton at that."

After all, Swagg had lived in seclusion deep in the mountains, where there were plenty of carnivores.

"Then…"

"That’s gone too."

Swagg opened and closed his mouth, seemingly wanting to ask something else, but Lake did not wait for him to say it.

The entire cabin had been blown into the sky by the bombs. What did he expect to have survived?

Cash?

Lake said, "It’s fine. You’re only bankrupt, after all. Besides, you don’t need to worry about bankruptcy. The military’s monthly allowance is enough for you to start over."

I’m not worried about money. I’m worried about my collection of firearms.

Swagg took a deep breath and shook his head. Then he looked at Lake. "What about that sniper?"

Lake frowned. "Who?"

Swagg said, "The sniper who assassinated the archbishop."

Lake’s Department of Homeland Security had found the mastermind. The case had occurred in the afternoon and been closed that very evening, at a speed comparable to a rocket.

But…

The mastermind had been caught, yet the true killer who had fired the shot had not been found.

Swagg said, "A sniper who could hit the archbishop with such precision from that distance and angle—it wasn’t an accidental killing. He definitely isn’t some unknown nobody. He’s the real killer."

There were snipers who could fire a bullet along such a trajectory from such a distance and angle, but very few of them. As one of the top snipers, Swagg could only think of a handful of people.

Lake said directly, "Michael Sandel. Know him?"

Swagg frowned. "He’s the sniper?"

Lake nodded. "More or less. More accurately, it would be more appropriate to call him a killer."

Michael Sandel was a killer—and one who had survived an execution by cannon fire, yet somehow remained alive through sheer luck.

Of course, in the killer world’s database, this cold-blooded Sandel, who was even colder than Lake, was already listed as dead.

Sandel was a ruthless killer. Nothing living remained wherever his gaze fell. He acted erratically, and during one mission, he got into an argument with his employer and killed the employer’s entire family.

Then came the revenge. That organization forced Sandel into an abandoned building. Instead of searching it, they directly used artillery to bombard the building in a saturation attack, reducing it to rubble.

But he had not died. He had merely become disabled. Even so, he had managed to find himself another master and lived under that master’s care.

Lake turned and walked toward the door. "We’re investigating him. You should worry about yourself. Although we held a press conference, your mugshot has already appeared in the newspapers, and all your personal information has been exposed. You’re basically socially dead. Be careful when you go out. Don’t get shot in the back by someone."

Swagg: "…"

It was not impossible.

There were two kinds of happy citizens in the Federation. The first kind were patriots, and their patriotism was the sort that never received real-time updates. If they saw Swagg, they might still think he was a fugitive and simply pull out a gun and shoot him.

The second kind were the war-weary. When it came to soldiers with resumes as dazzling as Swagg’s, these people liked to shoot such individuals in the back whenever they lost their minds.

So Swagg really was socially dead.

Poor guy.

In the office.

"Knock, knock!"

"Come in."

Assistant Tiffany walked in from outside and looked at Lake, who was standing by the window. "Sir, you wanted to see me?"

Standing by the window and watching the happy citizens parading below, Lake shook his head. "The case is over. Return the security level to what it was before."

Tiffany nodded. "Yes, sir."

After the terrorist attack, the Department of Homeland Security had issued a risk warning throughout New York State in accordance with procedure. Now that the case was over, it was time to lower the risk level.

As for the happy citizens protesting below?

There was always some place in New York State where happy citizens were protesting every day. Lake only glanced at them before losing interest. There was no point paying attention. No matter what anyone said, they would keep protesting.

Protesting that the Department of Homeland Security had concealed the truth?

Protesting that Washington, D.C., had failed to disclose information to the public?

They could take their time protesting. It was their right. But he would not give in—if he did, he would lose. Once their three-minute enthusiasm passed, they would probably move somewhere else and protest about something else.

The happy citizens were nothing but leeks waiting to be harvested. Other than their value in that regard, they had no value whatsoever.

That afternoon.

The New York State Department of Homeland Security officially notified all major law-enforcement agencies that New York State’s security level had been lowered again. The security level had returned to normal, and the various law-enforcement agencies lowered their own security levels accordingly.

At five in the afternoon.

Lake was packing up and preparing to leave work. He was about to take Swagg to a bar for a drink when he received a call from Washington, D.C.

Operations Center.

Lake walked in and nodded to the Homeland agents inside. "Connect me."

The Homeland agent immediately connected the call to the Department of Homeland Security in Washington, D.C.

Soon.

Secretary Kelly and the head of the Washington, D.C., Department of Homeland Security came online.

"Secretary!"

"Lake."

Secretary Kelly looked at Lake, who had just come online, and said directly, "The sniper escaped. According to our information, he used an alias to fly to New York yesterday afternoon."

Lake raised an eyebrow. "He escaped? Sir, Sandel is disabled."

For fuck’s sake.

A killer whose legs were disabled and who needed a wheelchair had escaped on Washington’s soil? How could they have let that happen?

The head of the Washington, D.C., department looked rather grim and said from the side, "Director Edwin, this was mainly my fault. I was careless."

Lake looked at the Washington chief and frowned. "How did this happen? I remember that yesterday morning, Isaac and his backer had already officially identified that killer."

The Washington chief said, "Yesterday’s operation was a joint operation between the Department of Homeland Security and the FBI. Because of the address, the FBI arrived first. When our people were sent over, they discovered that Sandel had already been taken away by our Department of Homeland Security personnel."

Lake was stunned. "What?"

Secretary Kelly’s expression also darkened as she said, "Someone impersonated our Department of Homeland Security and took him from the FBI."

Lake opened and closed his mouth.

Well, well.

The wheel of fortune has turned, and today it’s landed at my house?

The next second.

A name appeared in Lake’s mind. "Secretary, I think S.H.I.E.L.D. definitely did this. Impersonating law-enforcement agencies is something S.H.I.E.L.D. has a long history of doing."

Secretary Kelly: "…"