The admiration of his coworkers and the friendliness of the attractive woman boosted Wesley's confidence. As he relished this newfound satisfaction, he silently encouraged himself, "Wesley, you're no longer a nobody. You have connections now, real ones. If you can keep this relationship with William Devonshire, becoming a millionaire shouldn't be out of reach."
For Wesley, whose bank account was always at zero by the end of each month, becoming a millionaire had always seemed like an unattainable dream. His savings had never exceeded $10,000—millionaire status was the stuff of fantasy.
But now, it no longer felt impossible. Buoyed by his optimism, Wesley decided to treat himself after work. He went to a roadside restaurant and splurged on a $40 steak dinner, something he rarely indulged in.
Wesley's good mood was mirrored by Carlos, the Cross, who had been silently watching him. Carlos followed Wesley into the restaurant and took a seat at a discreet table seven or eight meters away, ordering the same steak dinner.
Though Carlos felt at ease, his assassin instincts still led him to pick a seat that was shielded from any potential sniper angles. This choice frustrated Fox, who had been trailing Carlos. From her position outside, she had no clear shot.
While curving bullets could work wonders, they weren't omnipotent. There was no way to hit Carlos through the restaurant's glass windows. But Fox didn't mind; what mattered was confirming that Wesley was indeed Carlos's son.
Without hesitation, she pulled out her phone and called the gunsmith and the Mechanic.
Fox knew she couldn't take down Carlos alone, but with the three of them working together, it seemed manageable.
Minutes passed, and the gunsmith and the Mechanic had yet to arrive. Then Carlos suddenly paused, as if listening to someone speaking. Without waiting for Wesley to finish his meal, he signaled for the waiter and prepared to leave.
Fox didn't know why Carlos had paused, but once he left the restaurant, the chance to outnumber him would be lost.
Making a quick decision, Fox resolved to use Wesley to stall Carlos until her backup arrived. Checking her pistol one last time, she got out of her car and entered the restaurant, using two men as cover.
Inside, she positioned herself near the cashier counter to block Carlos's line of sight and quickly took a seat across from Wesley.
Fox's ability to approach Wesley so easily both relieved her and reinforced her belief that he was Carlos's son. Normally, Carlos would never let anyone get within ten meters without noticing.
Wesley, midway through his meal, looked up to see a stylishly dressed woman sitting across from him. Puzzled, he glanced around the restaurant and noticed several empty seats nearby.
Fox's persistent smile and unwavering gaze made Wesley uneasy. "Uh, excuse me… can I help you with something?"
"I know your father, Mr. Gibbs," Fox said.
Though her words were directed at Wesley, her eyes never left Carlos, seated seven or eight meters away. Seeing Carlos frown and tense up slightly, Fox couldn't help but smile. She was sure now—Carlos wouldn't dare act rashly.
Taking a fry from Wesley's plate, she ate it with a grin, watching as Wesley froze in confusion.
"What?" Wesley blurted, about to complain about another stranger claiming to know his father. But he quickly remembered William's warning.
Compared to Fox, whose intentions were unclear, Wesley instinctively trusted the righteous and charismatic William Devonshire.
Growing wary, Wesley tentatively replied, "Sorry, miss, you said you know my father—Mr. Gibbs?"
"I'm not talking about your adoptive father, Mr. Gibbs. I mean your biological father."
Biological father? The words made Wesley furrow his brows, his heart pounding uncontrollably.
Perhaps it was William's earlier warning, or a growing sense of danger combined with worry for his unseen father. For the second time that day, Wesley's heart raced, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
But instead of fumbling for his anxiety medication like he usually did, his mind became remarkably clear. Within a second, he concocted an excuse.
"Uh… if you're looking for a sugar daddy, I'm definitely not the guy," he said, brushing off his clothes. "Look at me—I'm broke."
"F!" Fox cursed internally. Do I look like the type who'd hit on a guy to pay my bills?
She wanted to smack Wesley for his comment but knew better than to lose her temper. Instead, she tried to gain his trust while stalling for time.
"Your father is one of the greatest assassins in history. But I'm sorry to say, he was killed this morning on the rooftop of the Metropolis Tower," Fox said.
Her eyes stayed glued to Carlos. She noticed his shoulders twitch slightly—a telltale sign that he was about to act.
Dropping the half-eaten fry in her hand, Fox grabbed Wesley by the collar. "And the person who killed him is right behind you."
With her other hand, she drew her gun and fired a shot at Carlos.
The sound of her gunshot was immediately followed by the crack of Carlos's weapon.
"Clink!" The bullets collided mid-air, deforming and falling harmlessly to the ground.
Using Wesley as a human shield, Fox suddenly unleashed her full combat prowess. Holding onto Wesley's collar, she launched an aggressive assault.
Unfortunately, despite Carlos's restraint, every bullet Fox fired was intercepted mid-air by Carlos.
After seven or eight shots, Fox began to feel the pressure. Her pistol only held twelve rounds, while Carlos's Glock had a 17-round magazine. If she had to reload mid-combat against Carlos, it would be tantamount to suicide.
Thinking quickly, she pulled Wesley toward the counter, cursing the gunsmith and the Mechanic for taking so long to arrive.
She tried to come up with a plan to escape with Wesley, firing a few more rounds as she yelled, "Get down!"
Using the distraction, she pulled Wesley closer, ostensibly to protect him, but in reality, she was using him as cover to buy time to reload.
As she swapped magazines, her grip on Wesley's collar loosened slightly.
Terrified by the intense close-range firefight, Wesley, who had never been in such a situation, acted on pure instinct.
The moment he was free, he scrambled away from the counter, crawling and stumbling as he fled the restaurant.
Unbeknownst to him, his newly awakened superhuman abilities allowed him to move with agility far beyond what was normal. In the blink of an eye, he was out of the restaurant and sprinting down the street.
"F***!" Fox cursed again, watching Wesley bolt like a frightened mouse. It was obvious he had awakened powers similar to Carlos's, but instead of fighting, he fled in sheer panic.
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