Chapter 183 Funeral (Part 2)

Chapter 183 Funeral (Part 2)

Alison sat leisurely beside Oliver, not the least bit afraid of the danger that might unfold.

She knew Oliver would protect her.

She relaxed and observed the others, suddenly noticing Jim was missing.

The priest asked Santos under pressure. "It's about time. Should we start the farewell ceremony now?"

Santos replied, "Wait a moment."

The priest really wanted to ask who else they were waiting for!

"Where's Jim?" Santos asked several people. Only Marshall answered him. "I heard Jim say earlier he was going to the bathroom, and Freya followed him."

"Don't talk nonsense!" Santos scolded in a low voice. Freya following a man to the bathroom—what would that look like?

"You don't believe me? I saw it with my own eyes." Marshall sneered.

"Watch your tone! I'm your father!" Santos was irritated. It was one thing for Oliver not to show him respect, but Marshall—everything Marshall had was given by him, yet he dared speak to him like this!

"Go back to your seat." Santos felt others were laughing at him and quickly sent a subordinate to fetch Jim.

The priest stepped up to the podium, tested the microphone, thinking they could finally begin.

The subordinate who went to find Jim suddenly came running back in a panic. He whispered something in Santos's ear, and Santos's face changed dramatically.

Alison stared at Santos from several rows away. She saw Santos speak to his subordinate with a serious expression. The subordinate hurriedly left through the side door of the chapel. She quickly nudged Oliver. "That guy just left. Send someone to check it out—something seems wrong!"

Before Oliver could send anyone, Freya's scream came from the side door.

Then someone shouted. "Someone's dead! Someone's been killed!"

Oliver gave Taylor a look. Taylor immediately rushed toward the side door with Harry and Howard.

A subordinate tried to stop them but was pushed aside by Howard.

Outside the door was a corridor about ten yards long. At the end of the corridor, Freya sat collapsed on the ground, looking panicked.

Jim lay face down, a huge wound on his neck, the pool of blood beneath him constantly expanding.

His eyes were wide open, pupils gradually dilating. His body twitched slightly, his fingers trembled, then went still.

Taylor gasped, "Quick, tell Mr. West and Alison!"

Oliver immediately sealed off the scene.

Jim had been killed efficiently—the killer had finished him with one strike, the technique clean and professional, comparable to a trained assassin.

Freya was extremely frightened.

She said she had only wanted to talk to Jim for a moment when suddenly someone stunned her from behind with a stun gun. She was unconscious for a while, and when she woke up, Jim was dead.

She spoke incoherently, constantly patting her chest. Marshall said dismissively. "It's just a dead body. Haven't you seen plenty of those? Stop acting."

"It wasn't you who almost died, so of course you're not scared!" Freya wasn't actually afraid of corpses. What frightened her was the time she was unconscious—what if the killer had done the same thing to her neck?

Freya shivered, not daring to think further.

"Both of you, stop arguing!" Santos erupted. "Argue again and get out!"

Alison felt that with Jim dead, Santos seemed to have shed a heavy burden—his hunched back had even straightened a bit.

She asked Santos. "Why are you looking at us like that? Are you suggesting Jim was killed by Oliver and me?"

"It's not impossible," Santos's expression was somewhat twisted, "if you knew Jim's identity."

"Jim's identity?" Alison asked.

"Every year I send many smart children, beautiful women, and strong men abroad. The police can't find the buyers—you must be curious where all those people went, right?" Santos waited two seconds. When Alison and Oliver didn't ask, he continued on his own. "Many medical research institutions need live subjects for drug testing. I've partnered with several of them, helping them research drugs that extend human life."

"Has the research been successful?" Alison asked.

"Of course!" Santos flicked his hand, and a mini remote control hidden in his sleeve slid into his palm. He naturally put his hand behind his back and pressed the button.

"I've been very sick for the past two years. Without the drugs my partners provided, I would have died long ago. This time they developed a drug that can make people three to five years younger. Normally it wouldn't be given to someone dying like me, but thanks to you, my partners need me to recover the ledger, so they gave me one pill."

Santos was extremely excited, his eyes showing abnormal fervor. "After taking just one pill, my illness completely disappeared!"

Alison didn't believe such miraculous drugs existed. Either Santos's illness wasn't that serious, or Santos had no idea about his actual physical condition.

"Jim belonged to your so-called partners?" Alison thought, no wonder Jim had such a special position at Thomas Holdings.

Santos said, "Yes, he wanted you dead, so you and Oliver killed him first."

Alison shook her head. "It wasn't us."

A name flashed through her mind, but by now the killer had probably already escaped—after all, Gerald was quite skilled at running away.

"The ledger is with you, isn't it? Or with the National Security Agency? Hand over the ledger! Otherwise everyone in this chapel will die with you!" Santos suddenly changed his expression, threatening viciously.

Santos didn't care about Jim's death—he was actually glad to have one less person monitoring him. And the trap Jim had set up now conveniently served his purposes!

"Damn Santos, big words." Alison scoffed.

Santos observed her and Oliver's expressions with confusion, then looked at the others. "Don't any of you feel unwell?"

"You mean dizzy, blurred vision, weak limbs?" Alison blinked her bright eyes. "Not at all. The drugs in the central air conditioning and air purifiers have already been found. You bad guys really have no originality."

"When did you discover it?" Santos cursed Jim's incompetence in his mind and decisively pulled out a pocket pistol, aiming it at Alison. "Hand over the ledger!"

Unless absolutely necessary, Santos didn't plan to use force, because Oliver's side clearly had more firepower than his.

But now Alison stood right in front of him—this was the only chance, and the one with the highest success rate!

Alison and Oliver simultaneously drew their guns to counter. Oliver's bodyguards and the National Security Agency personnel all drew their weapons in unison.

Dense gunfire erupted but lasted only a few seconds.

A bullet hit Santos's right temple and exited through the left.

Alison frowned. They had all wanted to capture Santos alive—the headshot definitely wasn't from their side.

Someone wanted to silence him!

Oliver also realized another assassin was lurking in the chapel and warned everyone to be cautious.

Freya and Marshall, who had been unable to intervene in the situation, saw Santos dead. Marshall didn't hesitate to pull out a knife and plunge it into Freya's chest.

If Freya died, he would be the sole heir!

"You idiot! You're crazy!" Freya saw the madness in his eyes and pulled a syringe from her pocket, jabbing it hard into Marshall's neck in retaliation.

Freya and Marshall's sudden mutual attack caught even Alison and Oliver off guard.

"It really is 'Curse.'" Alison murmured.

Blood stained the white flowers in the chapel. Ambulances and police cars drove into the cemetery. No one said goodbye to Dorian—his grand funeral ended just like that.

Afterward, police discovered that Marshall had received a forged copy of a will before the funeral, stating that Freya was the daughter of Santos's beloved first wife and would inherit all of Santos's estate.

Alison guessed this fake will must have been Gerald's work.

The day after the funeral, Alison received news that Willow had been disfigured, had her limbs broken, and was delivered to a TV station.

Along with this news came four boxes of money.

The assassin had returned the forty million dollars, leaving a note saying the employers who wanted the ledger were Freya and Marshall. Since they were both dead, the assassin couldn't complete the task and had to return the money.

Alison didn't mind that the assassin hadn't completed the task. She happily pulled out a money counter, about to count the cash when Oliver called to her from the doorway.

"Coming!" Alison ran to him. "What happened?"

"Uncle Bradley says Clean Valley Waste Management found several bags of dismembered body parts. I've taken the case. We're heading to the scene now," Oliver said.

"Okay!"

Oliver's team quickly mobilized.

In the silver sedan, Taylor was driving as usual. While driving, he explained the basic information about the case.

The car drove through downtown. Through the window, Alison saw a charred building standing in the distance.

Once, Thomas Holdings had been an immovable giant to her. Now that giant, like the Twin Towers, no longer existed.

But Aurora Syndicate was still out there.

Gerald was still out there.

They had turned their attention abroad, targeting Santos's partners.

Greater challenges awaited her in the future.

She and Oliver would surely have a day when they reunited with Gerald and faced off again.

Oliver held Alison's hand.

Alison came back to herself and turned to look at him.

Bright daylight from outside fell on her profile. She smiled at Oliver, her smile incredibly radiant.