Molly had always thought that Flynn was like her, at most a Semi-Grandmaster.
She had inquired about him and knew that before the age of eighteen, Flynn was nothing special.
He had no foundation in martial arts and was often bullied by thugs at school.
When Molly learned that Flynn was the chief instructor of the Blade Special Forces, and that the minimum requirement for the position was Semi-Grandmaster, she couldn’t believe he was one.
After all, it seemed nearly impossible for someone to become a Semi-Grandmaster in just ten years from an ordinary person, which Molly considered the limit of Flynn’s potential.
Moreover, the man didn’t act seriously at all, always hanging around loosely and acting sloppily; he was even a bit of a lecher.
He did not carry himself like a master at all.
Any Grandmaster would have an imposing aura, sitting solid as a mountain, every word and deed demonstrating the grace of a great family.
Yet today, right in front of her, in less than three seconds, he had killed three Semi-Grandmasters with a single slap each.
Such an explosive performance could only belong to a Grandmaster at his peak!
Molly was shocked on the spot.
It overturned her previous understanding of Flynn.
It also shattered her fixed impression of the pinnacle of Grandmasters.
Her worldview had collapsed.
Oh! Right, the paper!
The paper Flynn had written to her, the one detailing martial arts techniques and ancient medicinal recipes, must be genuine!
He must have used those ancient recipes to enhance his martial arts!
It had to be!
Otherwise, he couldn’t have reached the peak of Grandmaster in such a short time.
Molly pulled the crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket, treating it like a treasure.
Scarlet had handed it to her last night; she had initially planned to throw it away while Scarlet was absent but forgot due to other matters.
Thinking about it now, it was a close call.
She had almost missed a tremendous opportunity!
“What are you standing there for, go upstairs!” After killing the three Semi-Grandmasters, Flynn picked up a steel pipe from the ground and rushed upstairs.
“Oh!” Molly then remembered that there were still kidnappers upstairs, and in her panic, she stuffed the crumpled paper back into her loose sweatpants, following Flynn up the stairs.
“What’s going on? What happened downstairs?” Vincent furrowed his brow deeply.
The force with which Flynn had barged through the door was immense, the sound echoing like a cannon, making the entire building tremble.
The three Semi-Grandmasters upstairs were momentarily stunned.
They had no idea what had happened downstairs, nor did they know it was Flynn who had caused the noise.
In their minds, Flynn should have been torn to pieces by now.
“See who’s coming in!” Vincent ordered gravely.
The kidnapper about to kiss Rose reluctantly jumped off the bed and headed straight for the door.
“Damn it! Those killers outside wouldn’t be coming up to have a taste too, would they?” The kidnapper muttered unhappily as he opened the door.
“Boom!”
Before the kidnapper could touch the doorknob, the iron door was kicked open by a tremendous force.
Along with the door frame, it flew towards the opposite wall, carrying the kidnapper who was just about to open it.
“Boom!”
The heavy iron door smashed the kidnapper against the wall like a flyswatter.
“Bang!”
Another loud noise.
The kidnapper was flattened into a pancake by the door!
“What… what kind of strength is this?” Vincent, looking at his subordinate squeezed between the iron door and the wall, was shocked into stiffness.
Another kidnapper, witnessing the scene, was also stunned; just as he was about to seize Scarlet, he heard a whizzing sound.
A steel pipe flew straight at him.
“Pfft!” it pierced his right eye, bringing out some brain matter before flying out the window.
“So… so fast…” The gunman, his left eye wide open in disbelief, stared at Flynn as he fell straight to the ground.
He could never have anticipated that before he could put the gun to Scarlet’s head, his own head would be pierced by a steel pipe.
Boom!
As Vincent looked at the vacant right eye and the glaring left eye of his last subordinate, a chill ran from his feet up to the crown of his head.
How was Flynn still alive?
Why was he still alive?
Had the world’s tenth-ranked assassination organization failed to kill him?
Flynn glanced over at the wooden bed where Rose, tied up, had already fainted. Her face was swollen and purple from a handprint, with blood still visible on her ear, and her breathing was faint.
Scarlet wasn’t faring much better, her cheeks wet with tears and swollen, her face pale, her body shivering uncontrollably.
She was terrified.
Boom!
Flynn’s aura exploded with ferocity, his face darkening to an extreme, his eyes filled with a menacing warlike presence.
The forty-square-meter room suddenly felt as cold as the arctic winter.
“Who… who exactly are you?” Vincent stammered as he watched Flynn approach.
Based on past impressions, Flynn was at best a mid-tier Grandmaster, slightly better in martial arts than Mr. Goff.
Yet, the assassins outside had hunted down three mid-tier Grandmasters, all during a distraction by the presidential guard.
If Flynn was only mid-tier, he should be dead! Yet, here he was, unscathed.
“I’m here to kill you!”
“Die!”
With those words, Flynn slapped Vincent across the face, causing his head to explode.
His body flew five meters, breaking the front window and landing on the windowsill.
Seeing this, Molly couldn’t help but gasp.
Since arriving in Northview, Flynn’s actions had been brutally ruthless, like a heartless demon god, each move lethal and blood-splattering.
This was unlike his usual self.
An angry Flynn was terrifying!
Hidden in a hollow in the mountains, Harold, observing Vincent’s shattered head and limp upper body hanging off the small building’s outer wall, furrowed his brow.
This time, they might have met their match.
“Boss, what do we do?” came a voice through the earpiece.
Harold’s eyes darkened as he gazed at the small building, responding in a low tone, “The room on the second floor, left side. Open fire! Empty your magazines!”
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
Gunfire erupted once more.
Bullets rained down like a storm toward the room where Flynn was.
Just as Molly stood up after untying Rose and Scarlet, the gunfire started, her scalp tingling immediately.
She was a live target; bullets coming through would shred her body to pieces.
A wave of indescribable fear struck her.
“Get down!”
In that critical moment, Flynn grabbed her arm and yanked her down behind the windowsill.
As Molly crouched down, five or six bullets whizzed past where she had just been standing, striking the floor nearby and kicking up dust.
After pulling Molly down, Flynn didn’t pause; he reached for the wooden bed, dragging Scarlet and Rose to the ground next to Molly. They all clung tightly to the windowsill as bullets pelted the wooden bed, instantly creating seven or eight holes.
“Flynn, I’m scared, I’m so scared…” Scarlet sobbed into Flynn’s arms, trembling as bullets whistled overhead.
She had never seen such a terrifying scene in her life.
Not just her, even Molly, accustomed to life and death, was now feeling numb on her scalp, her hands sweating.
Flynn, looking at Scarlet’s frightened face and the severely injured, unconscious Rose, felt his anger burn fiercely.
These women, whom he couldn’t bear to scold, had suffered such abuse today.
This group of people would not survive.
They all had to die.
“We can’t stay here. Do you trust me?” Flynn turned to Molly, his face serious.
A grave expression appeared on Molly’s face as she blurted out, “I trust you. What’s your plan?”