787: Chapter 431: Great, I Can Be Reincarnated Now!_3 787: Chapter 431: Great, I Can Be Reincarnated Now!_3 The female spy had a long dream.
She dreamt…
of herself riding a roller coaster, making a sharp turn, and vomiting…
Splatter…
Slowly, she opened her eyes.
Her vision gradually adapted, and when it cleared, her heart seized in fear.
A confined space.
She was tied to a chair.
It was over.
She had been captured.
Two n erged from a shadowy corner.
The leader had triangular eyes, a nacing look, but he constantly wore a smile.
The more he smiled, the more terrifying it felt.
“Allow to introduce myself.
I’m Jeff Bennett.”
“The Clown?!”
The woman exclaid in horror.
Jeff Bennett raised an eyebrow and grinned even wider, “Looks like I caught the right fish—a big one.”
He was now serving as the Director of the xico Counterintelligence General Bureau, having been promoted.
After infiltrating the central governnt and assassinating Popovich, he was transferred directly from being the News Bureau director to heading the newly established Counterintelligence Bureau.
xico currently has three major intelligence agencies: The xico Counterintelligence General Bureau (engaging both dostic and international operations, the top intelligence agency),
The Thirteen Protectors (auditing bureaucratic systems),
The xico News Bureau (focused on international intelligence).
Jeff Bennett had already beco a substantial figure.
Especially his successful penetration into the Popovich Governnt, rising to a high-ranking position before killing Popovich—a feat so intricate and brilliant that outsiders could not fathom it.
It was categorized as a classic case by many intelligence agencies.
They couldn’t understand how he climbed to such heights within months within the puppet governnt.
In the end, they attributed it simply to the fact that “Popovich’s governnt had plenty of collaborators with the North.”
Jeff Bennett chuckled, “Now, can you tell which organization you belong to?
And your motives?”
The woman lowered her head and fell silent.
She wasn’t planning to survive; she knew her error had sealed her fate.
“Seems like our new friend isn’t very cooperative.” Jeff’s gaze darkened slightly as he smirked at the man beside him, “Sharpen so pencils for her.”
The interrogator beside him nodded vigorously.
Jeff Bennett sat quietly nearby, observing.
The interrogator grabbed a specially designed peeler, much like the kind used at ho for peeling potatoes, except the opening in the middle was larger—just wide enough to fit a finger.
The interrogator seized the woman’s finger and forced it inside.
“What… what are you doing?”
“What do you think?”
The interrogator grinned wide and yanked forcefully.
Scrape…
A single sound!
A chunk of flesh was ripped right off!!!
“Ah!!!!!”
The pain coursed through her body, the scream tore through the small interrogation room.
The woman trembled uncontrollably, overco with agony.
So that’s what “sharpening pencils” ant.
The interrogator showed no rcy, slicing at the other side of the sa finger once more!
The woman’s eyes rolled back as she trembled, her mouth frothing.
Her finger’s bone was now visibly exposed.
Did you think that was the end?
Next ca a bottle of disinfectant alcohol, drenched forcefully over her hand.
It was beyond brutal…
Her breathing turned ragged, her body quaking rhythmically from the pain.
“You’ve got nine fingers left.
Oh, wait, my apologies—you still have your toes as well.”
“Kill , kill … just kill !”
The woman’s voice escalated from a soft plea to a heart-wrenching, desperate scream.
The interrogator slapped her, wiping his face, “Damn it, don’t you know your spit is toxic?”
“Are you going to talk or not?
Let’s see if your bones are tougher than our thods.”
xico Counterintelligence General Bureau had no shortage of thods.
If you couldn’t endure, they’d inject you with adrenaline.
A doctor was on call at all tis to ensure you wouldn’t perish.
Finally, by the third finger, the female spy couldn’t hold out any longer.
She confessed her identity and revealed her upcoming operation in full detail.
She had so backbone; three fingers had been stripped down to bare bone.
When Jeff Bennett heard her ntion that Victor had children, his face showed visible tension.
He propped himself up with both hands, “Where did you get this intelligence?”
His first thought was…
Had soone internally betrayed them?
The woman lifted her head weakly and whispered, “The nanny… We bribed the nanny.”
“Don’t let her die.
Make sure she confesses to the rest.
I need to make a report.”
“Understood, sir.”
Jeff Bennett quickly exited the room, storming into his office and urgently calling Casare…
The Counterintelligence Bureau reported directly to Casare.
After repeating the details, a nasal voice ca from the other end, “I understand.
Good job, but make sure the rest of the fish are reeled in as well.
Damn it, these rats hiding in the sewers are determined to stay hidden.
Find every last one.”
“Understood.”
Jeff Bennett’s gaze turned cold and malicious.
Casare hung up the call and marched straight to Victor’s office.
When he knocked and entered, a half-grown Tibetan mastiff greeted him, startling him.
Recollecting himself, he sighed in exasperation.
A rchant from Chinatown had gifted a Tibetan mastiff to the National Palace, and Victor adored it.
He carried it around almost every day, despite it being only two or three months old—it was already massive.
The dog seed to be aware of its elevated status, often roaming downstairs, with everyone it encountered feeding it treats.
Victor had nad it AK47.
A remarkably simple na.
“You’re always so busy.
What brings you here?” Victor asked with a smile, stroking the dog’s head.
“Boss…”
Casare recounted the entire sequence of events, visibly tense, “I’ve already ordered the nanny’s arrest.
Should we bolster security further?”
Victor’s good mood was instantly ruined…
“The French bastards want a piece of the action too.
They’ll lick manure if they see it.”
“Catch whoever needs catching, interrogate whoever needs interrogating.
I want to see how many operatives their intelligence agency loses before giving up.”
Casare nodded earnestly.
He too was fully on board with digging deeper.
“Now the Mossad is focusing its attention on us.
Do they already have evidence linking us to the downed plane?”
“Let them know, so what?
What’s there to fear?
If they have the guts, they can co strike from the Middle East.
It’s no big deal.
If they target us, we’ll make them switch directors again.”
Casare’s eyes glead…
“I think… we should cause them so trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Support Palestine.”
…
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