Chapter 833 - 371: Destiny Chain Link_3

Chapter 833: Chapter 371: Destiny Chain Link_3

"Yes! Yes..."

Wa Xueming didn’t have much education, but fortunately, Jian Na had always worked in government departments, so he echoed her a couple of times.

"We’re helping each other. Without you, I wouldn’t know my father’s identity."

Hausen wasn’t pretending to comply.

Actually, the rescue operation during the factory chlorine explosion was indeed the proudest moment of Mr. Herman’s life, far surpassing any of his wartime achievements.

From childhood, he heard his father talk about it countless times, and even until his dying moments, Mr. Herman would mention it with a look of satisfaction and pride.

That’s why, when he grew up, he inherited Mr. Herman’s will, continuously targeting Volut and secretly raising mercenaries to investigate mysterious organizations.

"Boss, there are Federal police ahead."

Unknowingly, they had already arrived near the highway entrance. Through the car window, they could see the entrance had been set up with a police checkpoint, requiring all vehicles’ occupants to disembark for inspection.

Facing the fully armed Romanian Federal police, Jian Na and Wa Xueming instinctively reached for their waists almost simultaneously.

"No need to worry, I’ll have my father handle it."

As Asote spoke, Hausen had already taken out his phone and dialed a number. After a few brief exchanges, a Federal police officer in charge ran over, bowing and clearing obstacles for them, so they passed through effortlessly without even lowering the windows.

"Once we leave Bucharest and reach Constanza Port, I’ll arrange for you to leave on my merchant ship. As for your wanted status, I’ll try to find someone to help you clear it."

"Thank you, Mr. Hausen!"

Jian Na didn’t expect the trouble to be resolved so easily.

However, she was forced to fight back in the first place, and thinking of this, she couldn’t help but want to personally peel the skin off Moriyama Harumi!

"Help me check a license plate in Romania, HLEG01..."

Beside the highway entrance, in a black Citroën sedan, Jin Zhijiu half-lounged in the driver’s seat, watching Hausen’s extended Hummer while hanging up the phone.

Since he was tagging along due to Jiang Youzhen’s father’s connections at the meeting, he wasn’t a formal intelligence officer himself.

Therefore, the National Intelligence Service’s official operations naturally wouldn’t include him.

But for him, this was an opportunity.

In Jin Zhijiu’s eyes, those pursuing the fugitive from Japan’s intelligence agency seemed clever but were actually just "brutes."

Everyone knew the fugitive was likely the member 7472 who had solved the Platinum Star Cruise incident.

Given they were a 7472 unit, how would they be caught easily?

They dared to directly invade the "International Anti-Terror Conference" site, with global live broadcasting, so how could they not have the corresponding preparations and personnel to assist?

Therefore, Jin Zhijiu came to the highway exit closest to Constanza Port, waiting for a chance.

And indeed, he discovered a clue.

Moments later, he finally received a text message from his subordinate, "HELG Chemical, Hausen Herman, seems 7472 has considerable influence, from technical hacking to tactical special forces, down to business tycoons, interesting!"

Jin Zhijiu’s lips curved slightly upward.

Jiang Youzhen’s AM Electronics Group also has chemical industries.

So, start with HELG Chemical, find a way to get in touch with 7472...

...

"Okay, I understand."

In the Beverly Hills luxury mansion living room in Los Angeles, United States, a middle-aged man was sitting in a wicker chair. He wore brown Italian handmade leather shoes and a white tailored suit, with a pink shirt underneath. His short hair was neatly combed, and he had a pair of silver-rimmed glasses on his oval-shaped face, exuding elegance, akin to the "Chicken Man" from Breaking Bad.

He put down his phone, picked up a chess piece, and with a "click," the piece landed.

"The operation in Romania failed. Next time, you’ll handle it personally."

"Yes, boss."

Across the chessboard sat a man wearing a brown-green T-shirt, linen outdoor pants, and LOWA tactical boots. His strong build, along with scars and bullet marks on his exposed forearms, further proved he was a battle-hardened "veteran of the firing line."

His reply was ice-cold and slightly muffled.

This was because the man’s head was clad in;

A black hood!!