Chapter 55 The Rain Keeps Falling

Washington, USA.

Twelve o'clock in the morning.

Heavy dark clouds filled the night sky, the sky seemed to be slowly sinking and collapsing, the purple-blue electric light appeared and disappeared, the air was stagnant, oppressive, and breathless.

Before the storm, there was a brief tranquility.

The University of Washington, a public university with a century-old history, has trained countless outstanding talents for the United States.

The maroon walls of the Law School's Academic Building seemed to be filled with the breath of history. At this time, there were still lights on in several rooms.

Sean Smith is a senior law professor who is 62 years old this year.

He has an in-depth understanding and research on the laws of many countries. He has a high reputation, and he is not interested in or even disgusted with politics. Therefore, compared with many American professors, he is very popular overseas, in the true sense.

Therefore, he often takes the initiative or is invited to go to higher universities in various countries around the world to give lectures, or he will analyze and study their laws in combination with local conditions.

It seems to be a pure law professor.

At this time, he was in his office, packed up his things, and prepared to go home.

After taking a look at the sky outside the window, the old professor took a black long-handled umbrella from behind the door and put an extra coat on his arm.

He turned off the light, walked out of the office, and turned back to lock the door.

But he was carrying his bag, holding an umbrella, and wearing clothes under his armpits, so his movements were naturally slow.

"Click--"

In the quiet and somewhat dark corridor, a crisp sound suddenly sounded, and the old professor paused in his action of locking the door with the key.

It was the sound of pulling the pistol safety, which was somewhat similar to the sound of locking the door, but Sean had heard these two sounds for decades, enough for him to distinguish them very clearly.

"Who?"

There was no answer, and a "piu--" sound of a gun with a silencer sounded.

Sean Smith fell to the ground in response, with a bloody hole on his temple, but until his death, he didn't know who killed him.

With a rumble, thunder rolled, a rainstorm was coming, and lightning split the night. In less than a few minutes, the accumulated water on the ground had become a stream.

Urged by the storm, the death god in the dark night accelerated the swing of the sickle.

Almost at the same time, in some high-end office buildings, in some suburban residential areas, or in the bar streets with singing and dancing, one after another, well-dressed, sleeping, and enjoying themselves with the people fell down.

They fell in the unknown corners, on this rainy night.

And such a situation did not only happen in Washington, but the most turbulent climax must be in Washington.

——

New York, USA.

At four o'clock in the morning, although the sky was hazy and white, it was still a night.

For most Americans, it is far from work time.

If someone asked them to get up to work at this point, they would definitely kick the man's ass with the tip of their leather shoes and sue him in court - he violated my labor rights!

In the FBI's New York branch building, on the thirteenth floor, in an independent office, two men with a clear age difference sat opposite each other in front and behind the white desk.

The old white man in a turquoise suit occasionally flashed a sharp light in his cloudy pupils under his glasses. He crossed his hands on the table, looking deep and wise.

Opposite him, on a chair, a young man with an East Asian face, wearing ordinary casual clothes and a knitted hat, was smoking a cigarette. The light smoke lingered around him and gradually filled the entire office.

"Are you sure it's them?"

After a long time, Shuichi Akai spoke calmly.

James Blake, the old white man with glasses, shook his head slowly after hearing this.

"No, it's just a guess of mine."

"According to the information sent by the headquarters, I noticed that among the agents who died last night, in their foreign affairs records, a considerable number of them had been to Japan before."

"Is that all, huh——."

Shuichi Akai exhaled a puff of smoke lightly, put the cigarette butt into the ashtray and put it out, his eyes still calm.

"As far as I know, they have never had such a large-scale action before, especially in the United States."

"Maybe, so it's just a guess of mine."

James nodded and responded ambiguously.

He has submitted this speculation to his superiors. Whether it is possible or not, it is always useful information for the FBI, which is now in chaos.

"So, are you going to let me investigate this matter?"

Shuichi Akai frowned slightly, as if he was somewhat resistant to this possibility. He didn't like to participate in such things, which had nothing to do with the organization.

There are too many whirlpools in the United States. Once you get stuck in it, it will be difficult to get out in a short time.

Although he has the power to refuse, if he is named by the senior FBI officials, it will still be a bit troublesome if he doesn't go.

However, to Shuichi Akai's surprise, James shook his head calmly and denied this possibility.

"In addition to this emergency, I have another thing to tell you."

Shuichi Akai's eyes were slightly condensed, and he had a bad premonition.

"The news from Japan is that Akemi Miyano has been confirmed dead."

"At the same time, her sister"

James explained one cold message after another in a very slow pace.

The office ushered in a longer silence than before.

Akai Shuichi took out a cigarette and lit it again. The sound of the lighter could be clearly heard in the room. His expression did not change. He was neither sad nor happy. He still looked calm and deep.

As the bright orange flame of the cigarette flickered, James slowly reached out and took something from under the table. He then slowly put it on the table and pushed it in front of Akai Shuichi's eyes.

A passport.

Except for the photo, everything else was not him.

"Be careful."

"Understood."

Akai Shuichi put away the passport and stood up to leave, but when he walked to the door, James' voice sounded again.

"Judy."

". We are just colleagues now."

Akai Shuichi left, and James sighed slightly.

He knew that for a period of time, perhaps a long time, the living could not win over the dead.

He could not comment on the matter between Akai and Judy, but he felt a little regretful.

"Shuiyi!"

At the elevator entrance, the elevator door opened, and five or six people with serious faces rushed out. New York was not spared last night, but the situation was far less serious than that at the headquarters.

The man and woman walking at the end just happened to meet Shuichi Akai who was about to take the elevator downstairs.

Judy, a white girl with short blond hair, has a good figure and a face shape that combines different aesthetics of the East and the West.

"Ah, Judy, Camel, are you here for that thing too?"

Shuichi Akai smiled and greeted as usual, even more "gentle".

Judy, who was a little flustered and hurried, immediately calmed down, stretched out her hand to lift the hair by her ears, and tried to squeeze out a pretty good smile, even though she felt the situation was extremely tense at the moment.

"Shuiyi you-"

"I have received the task from above."

Shuichi Akai didn't say much, and Judy nodded silently. She wanted to say something, but she knew that this man didn't need her to say anything more. She still couldn't tell what attitude she should take to face him.

After nodding to each other with Camel, Shuichi Akai took the elevator and left as the two of them saw him off.

The rain keeps falling~I keep asking for tickets~I am so humble.