The Killer Queen (Noella Briony)

CHapter 7



CHapter 7

Noella was speechless.

“Who placed the order?”

“No clue, the account’s encrypted.”

Noella stretched her hand to massage her temple. “Reject it. Find out who they are, their ID, and their background.”

“Got it, but it looks like they’ve posted a bunch of similar gigs. Aside from the one specifically for you, there are several other scattered jobs that have been snapped up!”

Jobs posted on the deep web were up for grabs, except for those with a set price for her and a

few other top–notch hitmen.

To take out Marcel, they actually lined up over a dozen hitmen!

Noella asked for the details of the person who took the job and hung up the phone.

“This the place? Got a tip from an informant that Marcel’s holed up here, third floor, room three

in building three.”

“Yep, that’s right. Snipers, in position. The rest of you, follow me into the hospital”

Across from Imperial West Hospital, three snipers took aim from different angles at Marcel who was pacing around inside the ward!

Six hitmen disguised themselves and waltzed right into the hospital, scattering toward various buildings.

Noella stood on the rooftop, her silenced sniper rifle aimed at the three snipers through the window. She was calculating the trajectory.

The snipers were a thousand feet away, well within her shooting range!

The trigger was pulled, and three bullets flew out simultaneously, hitting their marks without fail, right between the snipers‘ eyes!

They hit the ground before they could even signal for help.

Noella, as if knowing the outcome in advance, packed up her rifle and put on her hat as she descended.

On the third floor, a group of people made a grand entrance in the corridor!

The leader was particularly eye–catching, dressed in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up slightly, revealing muscular forearms, sharp eyes, and a chiseled face that looked like a masterpiece from God.

And yet, there was this subtle smile on his face, seemingly approachable and easy–going but. with an underlying cold aloofness that kept people at bay.

With a towering height of nearly six feet three inches and an air of frostiness, only one person could exude such an aura!

The helmsman of Imperial City’s top tycoon family, the Pollack family, Palmer Pollack!

The Pollack family’s business spanned the globe, with Palmer’s name consistently topping. Forbes‘ lists, and that was just the tip of the iceberg; the true extent of the Pollack family’s power was beyond anyone’s guess.

In Harmonia Country, with their fingers in political and business pies, real estate, healthcare, finance, education–you name it, the Pollack family had a stake in it. This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

Every household in Harmonia Country had something from the Pollack family’s empire!

When Palmer showed up, the entire floor fell silent.

His gaze swept over, a faint smile on his lips. “Have the medical staff been switched out?”

The head nurse, caught off guard by the sharp perception of the Pollack family helmsman, quickly explained, “Yes, there was an issue with Marcel’s medication.”

A flicker of imperceptible coldness crossed Palmer’s eyes before he looked away.

“Whoosh!”

A subtle sound of a bullet slicing through the air suddenly reached Palmer’s ears!

He couldn’t mistake that sound. Having been rigorously trained since childhood, he knew every bullet sound by heart, and this sound was one he had heard before!

“Ensure the old man is safe.”

He gave the order and turned to walk down the corridor behind him.

Noella’s hand was on a hitman’s neck, her knife skillfully severing his carotid. Her expression was calm, her moves swift, accurate, and ruthless, each strike efficiently downing a hitman.

“This technique, you’re Wise Fool? I thought Wise Fool wasn’t taking orders! What are you doing here?”

“Run, it’s a trap, Wise Fool is here!”

Noella ignored them, her bullets flying from the gun barrel, hitting the hitmen right between the eyes!

Several hitmen, blinded by rage and seeing her, knew they had no way out and drew their guns, ready for a last stand.

“Your opponent is me.”

A soft male voice echoed from the depths of the stairwell!

13.09

A man in a black shirt walked up the stairs, his black shoes tapping the ground, each step like a demon crawling up from hell.

With a composed smile on his lips, he moved at a speed Invisible to the naked eye, and before the hitmen even realized what was happening, they were breathless!

Noella’s gaze landed on him.

Never seen him before. But with those moves and the aura of death all over him, if she wasn’t mistaken, there was only one person in the world like that.

The leader of the number one hitman organization on the deep web’s rankings. Abyssal Organization, whose code name was Vocalist!

Noella frowned slightly, meeting Palmer’s scrutinizing gaze.

Palmer effortlessly took down a hitman beside him, his wrist bones cracking, and said with a smile, “Heard your price went up again?”

Noella was speechless.

“Really, dude?” She thought.

Her price on the hit list was already worth 200 million dollars. Those after her could line up from the Lambert Mansion all the way to the Pacific.

Clearly, Palmer had figured out who she was.

Noella’s knife swiftly entered another hitman’s neck as she said coldly, “Don’t sell yourself short: your head’s pretty valuable, too.”

Palmer was at a loss for words.

Who would’ve thought the infamous Wise Fool from the deep web’s hit list would have such a sharp tongue?

Noella dusted off her hands, taking down a few more hitmen nearby, and looked up at Palmer.

“Are you here to kill Marcel, too?”

Palmer shrugged his shoulders, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to meticulously wipe the blood from his hands.

“Does it matter if I am or not?”

He had also seen the message posted on the deep web, which specifically mentioned Wise Fool taking the order.

He didn’t expect Wise Fool to be a girl and such a young–looking one at that.

But Palmer knew that age, gender, and appearance were the least important things. In fact, they are the best disguise.

Noella’s gaze turned icy. If Vocalist was also here to kill Marcel, she wasn’t confident she could

13:09

make it out unscathed.

“Back out of this job,” she said.

Palmer was totally chill, leaning against the staircase with his bespoke shirt sporting some snazzy cufflink, oozing this indescribable ease and gentleness with every move he made.

Even Noella, just by looking at the guy, couldn’t peg him as the ruthless, vicious killer known as Vocalist.

“Sure thing, but you gotta join the Abyssal Organization.”

Noella cursed inwardly. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

Everyone on the deep web knew that her Obelisk Organization and Palmer’s Abyssal Organization were at each other’s throats, constantly snatching jobs from one another. And now he’s asking her

to join his gang?

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

“I’ll be waiting for the good news.”

Noella had this mixed look on her face, took one last glance at Palmer who was cool as a cucumber, and left the corridor.

Behind her, Palmer lit up a cigarette, shrouding his sinister and chilling expression in the smoke like a soul reaper straight out of hell.

Marcel took a couple of calls, and his face, which had softened a bit at the sight of his granddaughter, suddenly turned grim.

He grabbed his cane and entered the next room.

Inside, an old man dolled up in hospital garb and playing chess with himself looked up, “What brings you here? Weren’t you supposed to meet my granddaughter–in–law today? Where is she?”

Marcel was so close to whacking him with his cane. “I sent her home.”

Sexton Pollack slapped his thigh. “What? You just let her go? I didn’t even get to see her!”

Marcel huffed and sat down on the sofa, his grandfatherly warmth gone, replaced by an aura of authority as solid as a rock.

“In this hospital, there’s no shortage of people wanting me dead.”

Sexton snorted. “What’s that got to do with me? Drop dead for all I care. Don’t expect me to shell out cash for your funeral! Where’s my granddaughter–in–law?”

He turned to his grandson Palmer, who just walked in.

“You’ve got the nerve to show up? I’m telling you, if you don’t marry her this year, I’ll beat the

13:09

living daylights out of you!”

Palmer rubbed his forehead with a smile, “Grandpa, you couldn’t take me.”

Sexton chucked a chess piece at him, which Palmer caught with one hand,

Marcel acted as if he saw nothing and cheerfully said, “I’ve heard some noise. They’re here to kill me, aren’t they?”

Palmer nodded. “Yeah, all anonymous hitmen from the deep web. I suspect there’s also the top–tier assassin Wise Fool out for you. If you need, Grandpa Marcel, I’ll help you investigate.”

Marcel waved him off and moved a chess piece.

“No need, I’ve got it all figured out. Let’s play chess. No more talk of such dreary things.”

Palmer kept quiet, still the picture of a noble gentleman, composed and serene.

Sexton threw another chess piece. “Get lost. You’re a pain to see! Go ask my granddaughter–in– law out for dinner and a movie, or you’ll regret it when I’m gone!”


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