592 Banquet Part 2

As director of the intelligence department in the headquarter of the army, he

was responsible for internal inspection as the prosecutor at the secret court

against any traitor inside the army. He was instinctively suspicious of

everything. And, he didn't believe that Watson would really think he would be

all right after handing over.

He knew too much secrets about the government. Once losing their power,

the best ending for people like Watson was to stay in the secret jail for the rest

of their lives or to do the dirty work for the government secretively with a bomb

implanted in his body. They didn't dare to get out of the cell even if they were

granted freedom as there were too many people who wanted them dead.

There must be something wrong. He just hadn't figured it out yet.

"Well, the rain is heavier." Wiping the rain water off his face, Watson said, "can

you hold this umbrella for me, sir? A hot meal of steak would be perfect after

we do this. I am so cooperative, you should treat me better. Right?"

The secret agent showed no emotion on his face, "hope you are not playing

tricks." Then he stared at the building far away which was so quiet – the third

shipyard.

As sailboats became outdated due to their primitive technology, the shipyard

went bankrupt and thus was abandoned. No one would come to this place,

except those members of the sailboat club who are rich and love old things

when they use the channels for boat racing.

He could even recite the name list of the managers of the sailboat club. But

now, he understood that they were only the scapegoat for the real criminals.

The director of secret agents looked at Watson coldly, "why this warehouse

was not in the catalogue?"

"What is the brain for if a catalogue could do all the work?" Watson shrugged.

"what's more, technically, this place was not in my charge. It's a secret

meeting place of the higher-level departments."

"Higher-level departments?" The director sneered, "you have no higher-level

departments now. From the moment of the assassination by Maxwell, the Fifth

Department had ceased to exist."

"Ok, ok. It's your call." Watson heaved a sigh. "Whatever you say, as long as

you give me the umbrella back."

The director waved, and someone held an umbrella over Watson. But the rain

still dropped onto the blanket on Watson's knee and the blanket was soaked

quickly. Watson wiped the rain water off his face and heaved another sigh.

"It is my favorite blanket."

Their search didn't stop at all. They pushed open the gate and went further in

the warehouse. Along the way, the accountants quickly checked the inventory

in each room of the warehouse. A lot of precious supplies were found during

the inventory taking, the huge amount of which was shocking even to the ear

of the agent head.

It was the private collection of Shaman! It was almost huge enough to be a

warehouse of strategic war supplies.

So much weapons and power armors! What is he up to? Or, how long had he

been planning for the riot?"

Two hours later, the director got the inventory result from his secretary. He

showed no emotion on his face, yet he lit a cigarette, his hands shaking

slightly.

"Hey, my friend. Can I have a cigarette?" Watson asked.

The director looked at him coldly for a long while. Then, he suddenly raised

his feet and kicked Watson on to the ground. Watson rolled on the ground and

bumped his forehead onto the leg of the table. His forehead was injured and

began to bleed immediately.

"Don't you play any trick on me!" Stepping on Watson's face and watching him

suffering all the insults, the director felt more and more worried. Watson let

him without any resistance.

"I want only a cigarette. Or, if you don't believe me, you can just kill me now."

Watson spread out his hands. "I'm useless now. right?"

One of the agents came nearer, hand on the hilt of his saber. The agent head,

however, didn't nod his head. He snorted and said, "take him away from here.

This son of bitch! There must be something else he had not told us yet."

"This is not we agreed!"

"Listen, Mr. Watson. You do whatever I tell you. You understand?" The director

tossed his pack of cigarettes to Watson. "Your job here is done. Now take the

cigarettes to the army jail and enjoy your holiday there. The country will need

you in the future."

"All right. Whatever you say." Watson let them grab him and stuffed him into

the wheelchair. He only frowned when someone stepped on his blanket. "This

is my favorite blanket! You be careful! This is the best from India. You guys

can never afford one of this for your whole life."

"Your blanket?" The guy was so angry that he laughed. Then, he stamped on

the blanket and rubbed the blanket on the ground with his foot, leaving a dirty

footprint on it. He then stared at Watson provokingly. "You were saying?"

Watson took a deep breath and heaved a long sigh. Then, he closed his eyes.

"You mistook me. I was not talking to you just now."

He didn't look at the guy any more. He took out a cigarette from the silver

cigarette box. Then, he rubbed a match on the back of his wheelchair. The

match was lit up, giving faint yellow light.

A click was heard from the closed warehouse.

Bang!

The guy stepping on Watson's blanket fell on the ground, his brain and blood

all over the place and staining the blanket.

The cigarette was lit, showing a red spot in the darkness. More people fell

without a sound but blood spurting out.

At last, there was only Watson sitting in his wheelchair. He smoked the

cigarette deeply and puffed out wisps of smoke into the air.

There was no longer any one who was able to move in the warehouse.

Boom!

Hearing the whistling sound, the director had a bad feeling and turned around

immediately. He saw something silver dashing to him and the next moment,

he was nailed onto the wall by an arrow that was as thick as his arm.

There was a big hole in his chest and blood oozed out.

He stared at Watson unbelievably, muttered something undistinguishable in

an almost inaudible voice, "Hehe…hehe…"

Nothing was heard in the silence, except Watson's breath and his impressable

groan.

Until then, some indistinct figures appeared from the inside of the warehouse

and from the rain outside the warehouse.

"I told you to be careful." Looking at the blanket stained with brains, Watson

shook his head. "This is my favorite blanket."

Lola emerged from the air and shot an indifferent glance at him. "I'll take care

next time, Mr. Watson."

"Is this your revenge?" Watson said, helplessly.

"If you say so." Lola shrugged.

Pretty soon, a thin figure wearing a white raincoat came out of the darkness

and nodded to Lola. "Madam, it's all settled." In the man's hand, a dog-leg

shaped saber was covered in blood, which the rain had not washed it off the

blade.

"Who are you…" The director unbelievably looked at those people. He could

not believe that all the men he had positioned around were taken out. It was

done in just several seconds!

Staring at Watson, he said, using all his remaining strength, "who are those

people?"

"Who else can they be?" Watson blew out a mouthful of smoke and said

coldly, "they are the Fifth Department. You denied its existence, remember? I

told you, this place is not in my charge. It is the premise of higher-level

departments. But you don't believe me."

He smoked the cigarette. Then, he flipped the rest of the cigarette into the

blood shed by the agent head. Blue fire burst out, as if the cigarette was

tossed into a pool of burning oil.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Watson waved his hand. "Thank you for your cigarette."

The flame devoured the body of the agent head, which was burned into

nothing in a few seconds. There was only the arrow and a man-shaped mark

on the wall.

Watson turned back. The warehouse was almost full of people, of whom some

wore peasants' clothes, some wore expensive clothes and a lot more wore

tight clothes with weapons.

As he said, they are the Fifth Department.

According to the plan Ye Qingxuan gave him, he transported all the fighting

crew of the Fifth Department to Avalon. To this end, he booked all the capacity

of two shipping lines, asked all the favors he could get and rented all the ships

in Anglo by money or even threat.

He selected the best fighters and minimized the number of them as mush as

he could. Within 3 days, a total of 5700 people arrived in Avalon.

It was all as Ye Qingxuan had ordered.

Watson looked at the more than a dozen of commanders and nodded

satisfactorily. He stretched his hand to take from his subordinate a thick pile of

documents and then tossed the pile on the table.

"It's almost time. No need to wait for the signal. Here is the plan. Finish

reading it in ten minutes and, eh, follow aunt Lola's lead to have fun." Watson

smiled, "wish you all have a good time!"

He barely finished his words when there came a huge boom from afar.

Through the heavy rain, they could see the fires in the center of the city and

hear the noise of riots everywhere. Then, a burning holy emblem flied up into

the sky, shinning like a burning sun in the rain.

Watson could not help but smiled. "That bunch of old fellows were doing quite

well. The older the wiser. It is really true. We need to speed up here…"

While he was murmuring, a man came up from the rain. He took out a new

wheelchair from a water-proof bag, helped Watson sit in the new chair. And

finally, he put another new blanket on Watson's knees. It was the same as the

previous one.

"Yes. This feels really good." Rubbing the blanket on his knees with his

fingers, he nodded satisfactorily. "Derek, you always know what I want! You

should be my steward instead of a 'executioner'."

Derek answered, "if you want, sir."

"Of course not. Have you heard of any steward who hire another steward to

work for him?"

Watson smiled and wheeled the chair into the rain. Derek followed him closely

and held a huge black umbrella for him.

"Everyone here?" Watson asked.

"Yes, sir. As you ordered."

"What are you waiting for then, an invitation?" Watson said, waving his hand,

"if anyone want an invitation, I can get some for you next time. But now, show

those bureaucrats what you can do. Derek, tell them this: you received your

payment long time ago, now is the time you do your job."

Derek nodded and took a heavy whale-bone horn off his back and raised to

his lips. Then, he took a big breath, his chest bulging out like a grave, and

blew the horn with all his strength.

Nothing happened.

Yet, in the rain, long echoes were heard. They were like the songs sung by

the whales when they were wandering in the ocean. The songs pierced

through the rain curtain and transmitted to every direction.

Wherever the song goes, numerous rings of bronze bells were sounded.

Pretty soon, one of the doors was pushed open. and then, a second door, a

third…

From the houses that had been burned, from the ruins of collapsed buildings,

from under the wet and cold bridge, blood-shot eyes were brightened on

hearing the sound.

After a while, the violent thugs pushed open the door of their shelters and

went into the rain, breathing the air of freedom eagerly.

Anglos, Sicilians, Asgardians, Indians and Orientals who had fled their

countries all followed the call of the horn and went back into the streets, with

swords and irons in their hands.

Hundreds, thousands and tens of thousands of people.

They walked in the alleys and streets through the storm.

Finally, they gathered in front of Watson, forming a dark ocean of people.

"Everyone's here. Good. The steak I've ordered will be here very soon. Let's

make the long story short as time is limited." Watson blew some warm breath

onto his hands and rubbed them. "God know how difficult it is to order a

premium rare steak in Avalon. I should cherish it and be thankful. You

understand? This the basic table manner, and a very important thing. I hope

you can treat it as seriously as I do. This is the only thing you need to pay

attention to. Besides that, you can do as you wish…"

While he was speaking, the tower bridge boomed far away.

In the violent explosion, the iron gate broke, and the jammed road between

the central city and the lower city was cleared.

Watson smiled happily, as if he had heard the ringing of the waiter when the

dishes were served. "Gentlemen, it's dinner time. This is a really precious

buffet, so enjoy your banquet."

The iron-grey pupils of the people, lightened up by the fire in the sky, turned

into blood-red like those of the demons, full of violence and thirst.

"Hope your appetite is as good as mine." Watson said.