The Killer Queen (Noella Briony)

Noella calmly said, "But the Boss will guess that you came looking for me."

Thorpe nodded in agreement. "Of course, the Boss is the smartest person in the world, not to mention he knows me very well."

From the moment Thorpe boarded the ship, the Boss had known he would come looking for Noella!

Ivan gave Thorpe a peculiar look. "Aren't you worried your boss will come after you?"

"It doesn't matter. This ship is rigged with more than seventy bombs. Even a genius like the Boss can't be sure to escape unscathed, right?" Thorpe appeared calm, but his fists were clenched tight, and beads of sweat covered his forehead.Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

"You're gambling."

"Not at all..."

Thorpe knew about the bombs planted on the ship! And he knew that relying on brute force alone, he couldn't defuse those bombs. Turning to Noella was his way of surviving!

Noella's face was laced with sarcasm. "It seems that both you and the Maverick are beings the Boss has decided to discard."

Thorpe's expression was grave. "If I can't make it back alive, then I'm truly abandoned. The Boss sent me here so I could find my own way to survive. If I can't even do that, then I'm worthless!"

He wore a look of righteous indignation, which was almost too much to bear.

Thorpe spoke gravely, "I've given you the intel. The rest is out of my hands."

As Noella opened the door, she looked out at the seemingly calm but tumultuous sea. "Thorpe, what's your dream?"

Thorpe paused, his emotions churning. He closed his eyes, a complex mix of feelings washing over him. The setting sun cast its light on his face, marking the rugged features of the Caucasian assassin with scars, filled with a sense of age and sorrow.

"My wish... is to see tomorrow's sun, with my family."

...

Exiting the room, Noella brushed past a janitor pushing a giant trash bin.

Yasbel's voice whispered in Noella's ear. "Dog-Head is gambling on the third floor."

Noella's ears twitched. "What's in your cart?"

Yasbel, unflappable as ever, poured a drink and smiled, "Just some fish that aren't quite dead yet. You've never seen that, boss?"

"Yasbel, I asked you to protect someone. Is this how you do it?"

"Isn't it perfect? After all, who would suspect a janitor's cart?"

Only someone with Noella's keen hearing would suspect something amiss with the cart!

Noella took a deep breath. "Yasbel, can a hitman from the dark web distinguish between the breathing of a fish and a human?"

Yasbel grinned confidently. "Don't worry, boss. Your brother will be safe and sound."

Noella's expression was complex. It was obviously too late to lecture Yasbel on being discreet now.

At the end of the corridor, several menacing gazes swept over them, filled with a chilling intent to kill!

Yasbel's demeanor hardened as she barreled the cart forward. She hadn't planned on having Stirling hide his breathing inside the bin. She was simply annoyed by Stirling's clumsiness, which could slow her down in a pinch!

The cart collided head-on with the killers waiting in ambush.

Whipping out a dagger, Yasbel sneered, "Trying to steal my mark? You're asking for trouble!"

With a skillful drift, Yasbel left all the killers behind, pushing the cart away triumphantly.

"Damn it, that janitor is also in the game. Stop her!"

Above them, Nolan, whistling nonchalantly, complained, "Am I invisible? Why does nobody care about me?"

Right in front of these killers, they still had the nerve to ignore him!

Nolan and Yasbel, siblings skilled in tracking and concealing their breathing, were now in their element. Seeing someone literally hanging above them, the killers were utterly baffled.

Is this guy Spider-Man or what? How can he just hang there silently!

Nolan blinked, "Boss, you're not needed here. I'll play with these guys."

"Alright, leave it to you. Just don't cause too much of a stir."

On the third floor, the entertainment area.

Noella donned a mask, adorned with feathers and diamonds reminiscent of medieval masquerades, enhancing her elegance, making her appear like an aristocrat from a bygone European era.

The third floor of the cruise ship was

dedicated to entertainment, with a large area set aside for gambling, where stakes were placed using seemingly worthless shells.

Everyone understood that once the ship docked at its destination, in places where gambling was allowed, those shells would be exchanged for

cash.

At the narrow gambling table, a dealer dressed in a provocative gown smiled seductively, her eyes brimming with allure, beckoning the players with flirtatious glances.

"I'm about to deal. Place your bets, everyone."

Noella casually took a seat, her gaze sweeping across the table, eventually landing on a man wearing a husky mask, adding a touch of humor to the

scene.

The ace card lay in the hands of a

man at the end of the table, adorned with several gemstone rings, the ruby on his ring finger glittering in harmony with his cufflinks, also masked in the style of the Baroque period.

The man under the mask smiled, tapping the table with his slender fingers. "Miss, it's your turn to bet."

Noella adopted a different voice, one that sounded naive and curious, like a rich girl gambling for the first time. "I don't know what to choose. Sir, could you for me?"

The Husky-masked man scoffed derisively. "Vocalist, if this young lady knew your true face, she'd probably be scared to death."

Palmer responded with a gentle smile. "Is that so? Well, I'm not much to look at, so the lady might be disappointed."

"It's okay. I just want to know how to place a bet."

The seductive dealer, Mizar, cleared her throat and explained the rules once more, concluding, "Just place a bet, darling. As long as you've got money, coming here is all about fun."

"Alright then."

Noella put all her exchanged chips on the table. "I'll bet on this."

The Husky-masked man stroked his chin, "I'll also bet on the low."

Palmer just shrugged. "Then I'll go high."

Mizar announced with a grin, "High wins."

Noella looked a bit dismayed. "Ah? Lost already? If I knew, I wouldn't have followed Mr. Husky's lead."

Dog-Head gritted his teeth and said, "One more game!"

The deal he struck with Vocalist was simple: whoever wins at the poker table calls the shots. But so far, he hadn't won a single game!

"Vocalist, you're not cheating, are you?" Palmer asked, his smile more a grimace than anything genuine.

"Soaring Bird hasn't questioned my

integrity yet! When you've got the chops to best me, then you can ask such idiotic questions," Vocalist retorted with confidence. The fact that Vocalist had personally taken down Cerulean Whale was no secret

on the dark web. After all, it was Thorpe, the leader of Cerulean Whale, who had admitted it himself.

Dog-Head's expression soured, his husky mask maintaining its goofy grin as he scanned the room.

"Another round then! I'm done for! How about it, young lady, what's your pick?"

Noella sneered, "I'm sticking with this handsome guy. You're not easy on the eyes, bound to lose the next round too."