"Is it him?"
"That should be right, Leon, the newly promoted captain of the Garnier Crew!"
"Get out!"
After saying that, the two men in black jackets opened the car door and slowly followed in the direction Leon had left.
There were still quite a few people on the street, and the two assassins prepared to find a less crowded place to make their move.
However, what they didn't know was that Leon was a former Legion paratrooper, and he spotted the two of them in no time.
"Two targets, around thirty years old, carrying guns!" Leon observed secretly.
"It must be the assassins that Ferrand hired. They're pretty quick!"
He had just heard the news from Julien, and he didn't expect that Ferrand's assassins would already come knocking on his door.
It seemed Ferrand was quite eager to die!
In a flash, Leon thought of many things. He left the main street without making a sound and walked into a secluded and dark alley.
"Come on, keep up!"
The two assassins quickly followed. The alley was sparsely populated and dimly lit, making it the perfect place to make their move.
The two of them reached into their pockets and secretly released the safeties.
But to their surprise, just as they stepped into the alley, a whooshing sound suddenly came.
In the darkness, Leon appeared less than a meter away from them, holding a dagger in his hand.
The two men's expressions changed instantly, and they were about to draw their pistols and fire.
However, Leon was even faster, moving forward like a ghost and slashing at one man's wrist with his dagger.
"Snap!"
With a crisp sound of bone breaking, the man's wrist was severed, and his hand, along with the pistol, fell to the ground.
Then came a pitiful scream.
"Ah!"
After severing one man's wrist, Leon didn't give the other man a chance to fire, his movements without the slightest pause.
With a swift turn, the dagger sliced open the fragile neck, rupturing the carotid artery and causing blood to gush out like a fountain.
The alley was only so big, dimly lit, and cramped. In this kind of terrain, a pistol is not necessarily more useful than a dagger.
In the blink of an eye, within two breaths, one assassin was killed and the other wounded.
The assassin, whose wrist had been severed, lay on the ground, screaming in agony, his face deathly pale, his eyes filled with terror.
"Ah! Help me!"
He pressed his hand firmly against the major artery at his elbow, trying everything he could to prolong his life.
In his opinion, Leon was simply inhuman; how could a normal person take down two of them in an instant?
He didn't even have a chance to fire a shot!
"Don't kill me! I'll tell you everything. It was Ferrand who made us do this. Please spare my life!"
The assassin struggled up, knelt on the ground, and kept begging for mercy.
But now that things had come to this, how could Leon possibly let him go!
He had witnessed the killing firsthand, so should he be left to be a witness for the police?
"I know it was Ferrand who ordered this, even without you saying it!"
Leon spoke in a low voice, approaching the man step by step.
"No! You'll die a horrible death!"
Seeing that Leon had no intention of letting him go, the man panicked even more, hurriedly got up, and rushed toward the mouth of the alley.
But a leather shoe came down from behind, stomping him to the ground again.
"Don't be nervous, take a deep breath, relax slowly, I'll be quick!"
"Ferrand will be there to accompany you soon!"
Leon said in a devilish whisper, then grabbed his hair, pulled him back, and slashed his neck with the dagger.
The screams stopped abruptly, and blood gurgled from the corpse.
The alleyway returned to silence, and only Leon's figure stood quietly under the dim light.
Hearing the screams, many people in the nearby residential buildings secretly watched from their windows, but no one dared to make a sound.
In Marseille, people die in revenge killings almost every day, and they have become accustomed to such things.
Because they were afraid of retaliation, no one wanted to cause trouble; at most, they would just call the police.
After killing the two men, Leon picked up their pistols, which were already loaded with full magazines.
Each of them also had a spare magazine, each fully loaded with seven bullets.
These were Leon's spoils of war: two Colt .45 pistols and 28 bullets.
They arrived at just the right time; Leon needed a gun for self-defense right now!
After putting away the two pistols and glancing at the two bodies, Leon decided not to leave any evidence for the police.
Destroy the bodies and cover up the evidence!
This is a rather troublesome matter for ordinary people. They could either pour gasoline and burn the bodies, or they could get a vehicle to transport the bodies to the shore and sink them.
But for Leon, the solution was right at hand, because the two assassins had come by car.
He searched them, found the keys, brought their car to the mouth of the alley, loaded the two corpses into the trunk, and parked it on a quiet back street.
He would find some time to weigh those two corpses down with cement blocks and sink them in the sea, so they would disappear completely!
In this way, only two pools of blood remained in the alley, and based on that alone, no one could prove that Leon had killed someone.
He went back to the bar, took a shower to wash off the smell of blood, and then took a taxi home.
The following evening, a man dressed in black hurriedly entered Ferrand's second-floor bedroom, only to witness an embarrassing scene.
Ferrand lay on the bed with bandages wrapped around his head and both arms wrapped tightly in plaster casts.