He had thought he could threaten her with mutual death, letting her compromise for the sake of survival.
But he didn't expect that he still underestimated Fox's determination.
"We are all errors. Our very existence is a blasphemy against the loom." Fox's finger was already on the trigger of the modified M1911 at her waist.
Just at this moment, on the other side of the office, in the shadows of the floor-to-ceiling window, two figures slowly emerged.
Father and son.
Wesley and Cross.
They were like ghosts returning from hell, carrying full killing intent.
Sloan finally realized that he had fallen into a dead end.
In this room, the World's top three assassins were gathered, and the target was him.
He looked at Fox, trying to make a final struggle: "Fox, this is the holy center. If you open fire here, you have completely betrayed The Fraternity. Do you want to destroy all of this?"
"No."
Fox looked around this magnificent office, looking at the vanity bought with blood.
She whispered, interrupting him.
"I am just cleaning up the source of pollution."
As soon as her voice fell, a rhythm of death beyond human comprehension erupted among the four.
No warning, no small talk.
Four top assassins erupted synchronously within the same microsecond.
Time seemed to be sliced, and every frame was clearly distinguishable.
As the former godfather, Sloan showed the madness of a trapped beast in a desperate situation.
Two bullets spewed out, carrying a desperate violence.
One aimed directly at Wesley's heart, and the other shot towards Cross.
He wanted to take away this pair of father and son who caused his plan to miscarry before he went to hell.
Wesley's eyes were bloodshot; at this moment, the sense of time in his brain was stretched to the extreme.
The World turned into slowly flowing amber.
He could clearly see the dust floating in the air, see the flames spewing from Sloan's muzzle slowly blooming, and see the rotating warhead cutting through the air, approaching him with the whistling sound of death.
He raised his hand and fired.
"Bang!"
Sparks splashed.
The bullet Sloan shot at Wesley was precisely intercepted halfway.
Two warheads collided in the air, both instantly flattening, falling to the ground like two pieces of scrap metal.
And on the other side, Cross's movements were even more seasoned than his son's.
He didn't even look at Sloan; his wrist flicked slightly, and the bullet aimed at his life was instantly knocked away by the curved bullet he fired, less than half a meter from his chest.
The father and son, using the same technique, built an airtight iron curtain in front of the God of Death.
In the center of this chaotic battle, Fox appeared the calmest.
She did not pay attention to Sloan's struggle, nor did she care about the life or death of the father and son.
She stood in the center of the room, like a dancer about to take her final bow.
Her wrist turned outward, drawing a beautiful semicircle named 'Homecoming'.
That was the ultimate shooting technique of The Fraternity: The Circular Judgment.
Only the top-tier assassins could master this super trajectory.
Accompanied by a crisp gunshot, a silver special bullet left the chamber.
Time seemed to stop completely at this moment.
Everyone stared at that bullet.
It drew a shining silver arc in the air, like a crescent moon, and like a silver snake.
The bullet first bypassed a pillar and precisely pierced through the center of Sloan's eyebrows.
"Puff."
That ambitious person who tried to manipulate God had a burst of blood mist explode from his forehead.
The madness in his eyes hadn't had time to turn into terror before his brain was completely pulverized.
His body fell backward, hitting the floor-to-ceiling window, leaving a shocking trail of blood.
But Fox's judgment went far beyond this.
The bullet, after piercing through Sloan's skull, did not stop.
Fox closed her eyes.
A faint smile curled up at the corners of her lips, a smile of relief.
Those dead names flashed back in her mind like a revolving lantern.
That bullet bypassed the desk in the air, bypassed the stunned and frozen Wesley, and bypassed Cross who had reached out his hand wanting to stop it.
It emitted a shrill whistle, carrying destructive inertia, shooting straight towards the end of the circle.
Fox's own temple.
Kill the traitor Sloan, and then kill herself, who was named an error.
This was the last closed loop she wove for the loom.
It was her final sacrifice to her faith.
Wesley opened his mouth in terror; he wanted to shout, he wanted to stop it, but his muscle reaction could no longer keep up with this bullet that had long left the chamber.
Cross, even the battle-hardened Cross, could not make any effective move in the face of the unexpected.
The angle of this bullet was too tricky, and the speed was too fast.
This was a true dead end.
However.
Just in the thousandth of a second before the bullet was about to touch Fox's delicate skin, just at the moment when a strand of black hair was blown up by the strong wind.
"Clang!"
A metallic clashing sound that was crisp to the extreme exploded in Fox's ear.
The sound was shockingly loud, making her eardrums ache, as if someone had struck a bronze bell beside her ear.
Alice, who had been in a bystander state and subconsciously ignored by all the top assassins, finally appeared at this moment.
She was like a sharp knife grown out of thin air from the shadows, without any warning, suddenly erupting from the dead angle behind her.
In her hand, she held a silver large-caliber revolver that did not belong to this World, and the barrel was still smoking.
She fired at the critical moment.
That shot had neither curvature nor fancy techniques.
Only speed.
Extreme, pure, violent speed.
The bullet forcibly cut into Fox's death loop at an extremely domineering angle.
Two bullets collided violently less than two centimeters beside Fox's temple.
The huge impact force smashed Fox's silver bullet into pieces.
The residual metal debris exploded like fireworks, flying past Fox's temples, cutting off a few strands of black hair, and leaving a thin trail of blood on her cheek.
Fox opened her eyes suddenly.
She felt the scorching heat wave and heard the whistling of death brushing past her.
She turned her head, looking at the young girl blowing the smoke from the muzzle.
That was the first time in her life that she showed such uncomposed astonishment.
Alice put away her gun, shrugged, and broke the suffocating silence.
"Sorry, your closed-loop logic is perfect. But in my script, it is not yet time for you to take your final bow."
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