Harold had no choice but to drive out of the city. With a tracker on him, Lance and his men followed closely, no matter which route he took. After an indeterminate amount of time, Harold arrived at the seaside. To make matters worse, Harold's car soon ran out of gas.
"Damn it!" he cursed, seeing the pursuers closing in. He stumbled out of the car and ran towards the beach. There were many people playing by the sea, but Harold's arrival did not attract their attention.
Lance got out of his car and spotted Harold stumbling through the crowd. Narrowing his eyes, he ordered coldly, "Catch him!"
"Yes, sir!" The bodyguards nodded and ran towards the beach with trained precision. Their uniformed appearance and menacing aura finally alerted the beachgoers that something was wrong. People began to step aside, their curious gazes following the bodyguards.
Lance walked leisurely behind his men, his eyes fixed on Harold. Unbeknownst to him, a man wearing a baseball cap was watching him with a cold smile and a terrifyingly sinister look. This man was none other than Lone Wolf, one of the top ten international assassins hired by Alonso.
Lone Wolf slowly approached Lance. As he neared, he reached into his jacket and drew out a knife. Step by step, he got closer to Lance. Finally, he was right behind him and lunged with the knife. At that moment, screams erupted around them as someone nearby saw Lone Wolf's attack.
Lance sensed something was wrong and instinctively turned around, just in time to see Lone Wolf thrusting the knife at him. Quickly, he grabbed Lone Wolf's hand and kicked at him. But Lone Wolf was agile; otherwise, he wouldn't be one of the top assassins in the world. The two engaged in a fierce fight, evenly matched.
Some of Lance's bodyguards noticed the commotion and rushed over to help but couldn't intervene as the two were locked in combat. Both Lance and Lone Wolf quickly gauged each other's strength and realized it would take considerable effort to subdue one another.
Almost simultaneously, they both decided to feign weakness. Seeing an opening, they attacked each other with renewed ferocity. Under the sunlight, the silver knife glinted ominously before plunging into Lone Wolf's body, eliciting screams and Lone Wolf's agonized cries.
"Boss-"
"Ah!!"
Lone Wolf's face contorted in pain as he glared at Lance with murderous intent. His right hand was twisted grotesquely, with bones protruding from his flesh and blood streaming down. Lance wasn't unscathed either; a knife was lodged in his chest, soaking his black suit with blood that dripped steadily.
The air was thick with the smell of blood. But it wasn't over yet. Realizing his right hand was useless and driven by a desperate resolve to take Lance down with him, Lone Wolf used his uninjured left hand to push the knife deeper into Lance's chest.
"I'll kill you!" he shouted fiercely.
Lance staggered back a few steps but managed to grab Lone Wolf's hand and kicked him with all his strength. Lone Wolf fell to the ground like a broken doll as the bodyguards rushed to restrain him.
Lance, losing his strength, half-knelt on the ground, coughing up blood as his face turned pale. The surrounding tourists finally reacted, screaming in panic.
"Someone's been killed-"
"Boss!"
"Call an ambulance!"
The scene descended into chaos. Fortunately, an ambulance arrived quickly and sped towards the hospital. They also contacted the best doctors available.
Xavier rushed to the emergency room upon hearing about Lance's attack, ignoring his own injuries. He confronted the head bodyguard in the hallway, demanding answers.
"What happened? How did Mr. Mercer get attacked?"
"We were chasing Harold when someone ambushed the boss from behind. The attacker is a well-known international assassin, Lone Wolf," the head bodyguard explained everything to Xavier.
Xavier's face darkened as he anxiously asked, "How is Mr. Mercer?"
"Dr. Cohen is operating on him now. We'll know more once he's out, but Mr. Mercer's condition was critical when he was brought in," the bodyguard replied grimly.
Xavier felt a knot in his stomach but tried to reassure himself, muttering, "With Dr. Cohen here, Mr. Mercer will be fine."