He was extremely handsome, with a hint of a cynical smile on his face.

A man like this flirting with girls was simply a sure shot, never missing his mark.

Snap! The handsome man snapped his fingers, and somehow a revolver had appeared in his hand.

“Bruce Warren, Edward Warren, come on out. The three of us have been exposed.” The man spun the revolver rapidly around his finger.

At the same time, two other tall figures appeared from who knows where, blocking the exits of the garage on either side.

Catherine Turner opened the car door and stepped out, immediately seeing the two men who had emerged. One was Black, at least 1.9 meters, nearly 2 meters tall, his muscles bulging so much they stretched his clothes tight, his whole body radiating a fierce aura.

The other was a blond White man in camouflage, not as intimidatingly built as the Black man, but very well-proportioned. The bend of his camo pants revealed the black hilt of a dagger.

“Oh my God, a miracle! Who would have thought that the trainers of Black Mamba, Rattlesnake, Scorpion, BBN, Hualong—five joint mercenary companies who have trained thousands of killing machines—would turn out to be such a beautiful lady. Miss Tang, Miss Catherine Turner!”

The young mixed-race man shrugged, whistled, and gave Catherine Turner a standard gentleman’s bow.

“Let me introduce myself. My codename is ‘Henry Warren’. Friends in the assassin world have given me another nickname, ‘Death’s Bullet’, because of this revolver in my hand—every bullet it fires takes away a soul.”

“My real name is John Malavis. But since I’m on the mainland, of course I use my Chinese name—surname Yang, given name Yingming. So, Miss Catherine Turner, not a bad name, right?”

William Young was polite, as if inviting a lady to dance at a cocktail party. “This Black gentleman is Bruce Warren, who once strangled an adult polar bear barehanded, and in New York’s underground boxing scene, has kicked open the skulls of more than ten fighters and snapped the necks of over thirty. This White gentleman’s codename is Edward Warren, and he’s best at silently slitting an enemy’s throat with a dagger—his victims can’t make a sound!”

“You’re all with the Federal CIA?” Catherine Turner didn’t move a muscle.

“No, no, no…” William Young shook his head and smiled. “We’re from another organization, but the CIA paid a hefty price to bring us to the mainland. Miss Turner’s organization interfered with the US military’s plans in Africa this time. As a senior member of your organization, Miss Turner, you naturally can’t escape attention. Did you really think that coming to the mainland would mean you’re safe? As far as we know, Miss Turner’s organization has no ties to the mainland.”

“So, Miss Turner, come with us. We’ll secretly take you to the coast, then put you on a boat to hand you over to the CIA. Miss Turner, you’d best not resist. I’m a quick-draw shooter, and I really don’t want to stain such a beautiful lady’s blood with my bullets.”

“Henry Warren, enough talk, let’s do it.” The White man, Edward Warren, shouted in English, sounding impatient, and together with the Black man, Bruce Warren, began to close in.

Suddenly, Catherine Turner moved. Edward Warren and Bruce Warren were both battle-hardened killers with dozens, even hundreds, of lives on their hands. The moment Catherine Turner moved, they sensed it immediately.

Edward Warren truly showed the agility of a wolf, suddenly sprinting and pouncing, closing in on Catherine Turner. With a knife-hand strike, he aimed at Catherine Turner’s carotid artery.

Catherine Turner tilted her head just an inch, causing Edward Warren’s hand to strike her shoulder instead.

Edward Warren was a specially trained killing machine, his hands incredibly strong. Even a blow to the shoulder could dislocate and shatter a person’s shoulder joint.

However, after being struck, Catherine Turner was completely unharmed. Instead, she gave her shoulder a slight jerk.

Internal force unleashed!

Immediately, a trace of pain appeared on Edward Warren’s face, as if his hand had been electrocuted. His whole body stiffened for half a second, as if mildly paralyzed.

Catherine Turner seized the opportunity, suddenly stepping forward and swinging her arm in a horizontal arc—a move straight out of Tai Chi called “Advance, Block, and Hammer.”

Catherine Turner’s clothes whipped through the air, making a sharp crack like a firecracker going off!

This “Block and Hammer” was like a staff sweeping sideways, striking Edward Warren square in the chest.

Edward Warren’s nearly 200-pound body was sent flying like a cannonball, slamming into the garage wall. He stuck to the wall for two or three seconds, then slowly slid down like a painting.

When he landed, his pupils were dilated, his mouth open, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

“Roar!” In the blink of an eye, Edward Warren had lost all fighting ability. Bruce Warren immediately reacted, not even blinking, a muffled roar coming from his nostrils as he spread his arms wide and wrapped them around Catherine Turner in a bear hug.

Bruce Warren intended to use his immense strength to squeeze Catherine Turner into unconsciousness.

His body was terrifyingly solid; ordinary blows were like mosquito bites to him. He had once used this move to crush the bones of five opponents to death.