Chapter 1530: The Poor Scapegoat

looks from men!Ye Fan smiled faintly and said, “Hearing is not as good as seeing. I’ve heard your name for a long time. Seeing you today, it's truly as the rumors say.”Ding Ran's red lips parted sligh...A revelry orchestrated by Mr. Pelara, a figure prominent in the CIA, had just begun when it was abruptly cut short.

Live-fire military drills by China in certain waters are continuing on the large screen.

Those shells that soared into the sky, they were like bombs exploding on Mr. Peila's heart. He stood there stunned for a moment before staggering back, finally shaking off the indescribable bewilderment and looking around in confusion.

Just now, this conference room temporarily converted into a celebration venue was packed with over a hundred people.

But now it is utterly deserted, not even a single hair left. There are only overturned chairs and discarded papers scattered on the floor, a testament to the hasty departure of the participants.

Even Jack, who had always followed Paul and idolized him as a helper, was nowhere to be found.

The two screens, each ablaze with flickering gunfire, resembled two mocking eyes staring straight at Perla.

"Oh."

Mr. Peira rested his left hand on the table, sighing softly.

He knew, he was finished. His future, along with the CIA, and even the esteemed Vice President himself being slapped in the face, had completely dimmed. Fate had once again ushered in a qualitative turning point.

More than twenty years ago, Peira was a young CIA agent just starting out. Thanks to a traitor from China, and the sacrifice of his blond, blue-eyed wife, she earned a bright future that Jack viewed as an ideal.

More than twenty years later, Peira, who had become an important leader in the CIA, was brought down from his cloud-like position and plunged into a cesspool of scandal because of the same thing.

Still face down.

Even a fool would know that after this incident, Mr. Newsom, who was publicly humiliated at the scene, would hate him and push him out as a happy scapegoat, accusing him of falsely reporting military intelligence and influencing the leadership's judgment.

Though it was the height of summer, Mr. Perra felt a chill as he stepped out of the building onto the street. The night wind sent a shiver down his spine, and instinctively pulling his coat tighter, he was suddenly reminded of Hua Xia's words.

"Success and failure both belong to Xiao He."

Mr. Perra's rise was due to top-secret information from the Chinese military exercises.

His downfall, it's still because of this.

However, there is a huge difference between them: over twenty years ago, he was just a naive youngster who didn't care too much about success or failure.

After all, you're young. If you fall down, as long as you keep trying, you still have a chance to get back up.

Things are different now. Mr. Peira is over fifty, he's long gotten used to the luxurious life of indulgence they currently live. To lose his job and even end up in jail for this would be more unbearable than killing him.

"Where is Mr. Shen"

Mr. Peila walked along the sidewalk, aimlessly and alone. After what felt like a long time, he suddenly thought of Mr. Shen from Seoul who had sold him this top-secret military information.

There is no doubt that Mr. Shen is the culprit who pushed Mr. Pera into the abyss.

Peira wanted to find him, rip him to shreds with her own hands, that might lessen the rage simmering within her just a little.

Mr. Shen went where, of course, Perra didn't know.

Thankfully, there's still this thing called a mobile phone.

As she reached into her pocket for her phone, Bella felt a hard object.

That was a Browning pistol.

With a light click, Petra disengaged the safety on her handgun before dialing Mr. Shen's number.

He pleaded with God, hoping He could connect him to Mr. Shen's phone.

Then, you'd know where he is and could go there and blow his brains out.

God is merciful.

A light beep came from Bella's phone, and Mr. Shen's "adorable" voice echoed from within: "Mr. Bella, hello."

Mr. Shen's tone was still as calm as ever, unaware that Death had already set its sights on him.

"Where are you"

Peira definitely wouldn't be stupid enough to say "the Shen surname," You actually dare to sell me fake information, I'm going to kill you!

He acted as if nothing had happened, keeping his tone as calm as possible: “I’d like to buy you a drink and ask for your advice on what went wrong during this operation. Just the two of us, meeting alone at Danno’s Bar.”

Danu's Bar was the place where Mr. Shen met Pei La for the first time after he came to America.

That place is a man's paradise.

There are beautiful women and fine wine everywhere.

As long as you can get through that door, no matter what kind of drink you want, a bikini-clad waitress will bring it to you at the fastest speed and sit on your lap, hooking her neck around yours, holding a glass of wine and feeding you.

Likewise, no matter which beauty you fancy, even if she's performing pole dancing on stage, you can run up to her, unbuckle your belt, take out your weapon, and thrust it into her under the whistling and staring eyes of the crowd, without taking any safety precautions whatsoever.

Danu Bar, a man's paradise.

After visiting once, Mr. Shen became instantly enamored and couldn't tear himself away.

Indeed, after hearing Pei La mention going to the Dan Nu bar, Mr. Shen's tone of voice became noticeably more eager: "Ah ha ha, going to Dan Nu again would be too expensive, wouldn't it"

"Money doesn't matter, we're friends, right"

Pela was suddenly filled with admiration for herself. Though she hated Shen with all her being and wanted nothing more than to tear him limb from limb, she could still maintain her composure.

Especially the sincerity in his tone made him begin to doubt if it was the truth.

Pei La's sincerity touched Mr. Shen: "Mr. Pei La, thank you for your kindness. I will definitely be there. But I might arrive a little later because I still have something to attend to."

"What could be more important than us going to Danu for a few drinks"

“It's about Mr. Seijiro Toyo from Honshu, Japan.”

"Hiroshima"

Pela was taken aback for a moment, then suddenly remembered something: “Could it be Captain Masayoshi Shoshima of the Oriental Secret Guard Bureau”

The Oriental Secret Guard Bureau is similar in nature to the CIA of the United States, China's national security department. It has always been low-key and rarely attracts attention.

Pela knew Matsui, Shigeto because of the East Asia Friendship, both being in the same profession. They had a professional exchange in terms of learning once. Although they weren't friends, they were not strangers either.

"Yes."

"You — I understand. Mao Shima is the Tohoku intermediary who bought your information." Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!

"Yes."

"He's here too"

"No."

"Then, what business of his are you making up"

“Because I just received word, seven minutes ago, that Matsushima Shigeru leaked classified military information about the Huaxia military exercises. This resulted in a major blunder, causing a high-ranking official in Toyo to lose face and resign in shame, eventually taking his own life.”

When Mr. Shen talked about this, he was as casual as friends chatting, his voice so calm it was frightening: "I can't deny that I bear a little responsibility for the death of Mr. Moji Shōjima. So, I feel like I should call his family first to express my sincere condolences. Mr. Perra, do you think I'm being insincere by offering money After all, I made a good profit from my dealings with Mr. Moji Shōjima. Now that he's dead, his family is left with young orphans and a widow—"

Mr. Peira trembled all over, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, when he heard that Mozumi Mochizuki had committed suicide.

And his lips trembled, making his voice shaky: "You, you, who exactly are you"

"I'm Shen Mingxi, Mr. Peila, don't you remember me"

"I know you're Shen Mingxi! I, I just want to know your true identity."

"Well, well, Mr. Peela, I think you may be mistaken."

Shen Mingxi chuckled softly and said lightly, "Of course I am from the Shen family of Hancheng—"

"You're not!"

Pei La had worked here for over twenty years. In some aspects, her perceptiveness was far superior to that of ordinary people. This allowed her to discern something different from Shen Mingxi's consistently bland words: "You, you are definitely not Shen Mingxi. At the very least, you are no longer the Shen Mingxi who went to Dan Nu Bar. Who exactly are you"

"Well, well, Mr. Pella, it seems your success wasn't merely luck."

The man standing behind a tree several dozen meters from Mr. Peila, squinted slightly and smiled faintly at him: "Who I am is no longer important to you. What matters is that you should consider whether to follow the example of Mr. Matsuo Shima and commit suicide, or wait for us to take action."

"Do you want to kill me"

Pela's eyes widened suddenly, and she gasped.

Shen Mingxi's voice had already taken on a hoarse quality: "Actually, you should have died over twenty years ago. If I hadn't been hesitant, it would be strange for you to be alive today. After all, a hero who made great contributions to the CIA was suddenly assassinated. Any discerning person could see at a glance who did it. That way, it would be — "

"You are a person from China!"

Pela suddenly understood: "The real Shen Mingxi has fallen victim to your treachery. You are merely impersonating him to lure me here, attempting to assassinate me."

At this moment, Peira's mind was unusually sharp, but her breathing was a little rapid: "Twenty years ago, you wouldn't dare to harm me because I was the nation's hero and a CIA agent. If you had harmed me, it would have provoked strong retaliation at all levels, which would have been a loss outweighing any gain. But now, I have failed – I have become a scapegoat. I am the one who has caused many people to lose face. If I die, they can publicly announce that I was mentally unstable and orchestrated this whole farce. Afterwards, I will be like Tojo Masao from the East, with only suicide to apologize."

On his phone, Shen Mingxi's laughter rang out: "Heh heh, you're clever."

"Where are you, where are you Come out, I want to duel with you!"

Pele roared, tossing his phone aside, drawing a pistol, and whirled around, pointing the weapon at the spot where the man was hiding.

People on the street screamed and ran in all directions when they saw someone pull out a gun.

His keen sixth sense told him that Shen Mingxi was hiding here.

He should have roared and lunged, but as soon as he took a step forward, he drew back.

He is old already.

As people get older, they tend to cherish life more and fear death.

Whether you are a Chinese person, or a great American citizen.

"Who are you Who, exactly, are you"

Peiran mumbled, taking a step back with each word. Then, he abruptly turned and ran.

He swore he would make it home as fast as possible, grab all the cash, and flee to Mexico before the CIA could freeze his passport.

As for wife and children—there's an old Chinese saying: "Husband and wife are birds of the same forest, when disaster strikes they fly in separate directions."

"Ah!"

Pele turned around and ran into someone.

That was a woman.

Tall and slender, with exquisite features. Her eyes seemed to have water flowing in them, especially her crimson lips, so full and sexy that any man who saw her at first glance would want to take a good taste.

Pera, startled, was about to raise her gun but immediately recognized the beauty before her.

Not long ago, Mr. Pela, full of confidence, saw a Chinese female reporter in the CIA's large meeting room.

She left a deep impression on Pila.

At that time, Pila was still thinking, after this matter is settled, he would contact this beauty and try his best to take her to bed.

"Is that you How are you here—"

After recognizing who the beauty was, Peira froze for a moment. Just as she asked that, she felt a sharp pain in her chest.

Like the lusty aunt, please collect everyone: () The fastest update speed of the lusty aunt.m. It was already past nine in the evening, and the city's nightlife had begun. Inside the club, the dance floor on the first floor was packed with people, young men and women dancing wildly under the...