I Can Create Perfect Accidents

"How to complete a perfect crime and kill the vice president of the Owain Chamber of Commerce, Stansen, without leaving any evidence."

In the search box in front of John.

These words appeared.

Late in the morning.

John was lying comfortably on the sofa in front of the window.

He closed his eyes to rest and let the sunlight pour on his body.

His body was warm and comfortable.

But when he opened his eyes, they were filled with extreme coldness.

From now on.

His goal for building a hegemon corporation of his own increased by one.

Other than waking up his girlfriend Alice, he would also do his best to protect the people and things that he cherished.

If the world only taught humans the law of the jungle, then, he wanted to repay the world with the spirit of protecting justice to the end.

He wanted to tell the entire human race.

Love still exists.

Even though he might use bloody methods to achieve this.

However, at the critical moment, he had no choice but to do so.

Repaying evil with kindness, how to repay kindness?

Fight violence with violence, eliminate evil with evil.

That was the way to go.

John, who had experienced devastation, didn't have the heart of a saint. He wouldn't go soft on his enemies.

…

Owain City District, 8 AM.

A bright white Lamborghini sped past.

Narrowly squeezing into a slightly crowded two-lane street.

In the car, Stansen, the vice president of the Owain Chamber of Commerce, frowned, looking unhappy.

Towards this old street and the bustling commoners,

disdain and contempt emanated from his heart.

In this old district.

There were many old houses that had been left behind since the last century.

The walls were filled with dark smoke marks.

Some walls even have cracks on them.

Stansen didn't like it.

However, he was sitting in a luxury sports car.

It wouldn't matter as long as he didn't look outside.

The reason why he was driven here was because of the president of the Owain Chamber of Commerce, Mr. Orne.

On every Sunday morning.

He would go to a nearby tea shop to drink morning tea.

This was a habit that hadn't changed in years.

As the vice president, Stansen would naturally come frequently to accompany him.

…

The streets were filled with bicycles and electric cars.

The hawkers on both sides were full of enthusiasm and kept hawking.

Stansen felt even more frustrated.

Therefore, he simply closed his eyes and rested.

The streets were congested.

Warwick who the person driving for Stansen.

He was Stansen's trusted aide.

He was very good at driving.

On the busy road, he drove pretty smoothly.

Suddenly, an emergency happened.

Warwick hastily stepped on the brakes.

Because the car was moving slowly, no accident occurred.

"The car in front had a flat tire." He said to Stansen.

"Time is running out." Stansen didn't even bother to move his eyelids as he replied lightly.

Although there wasn't any clear indication of what he required, the meaning in his tone was self-evident and unquestionable.

This was his imposing manner towards his subordinates.

Warwick, who knew Stansen well, naturally knew what he meant.

Warwick looked at the car in front.

A furious woman walked out of the Mercedes-Benz car.

Warwick looked back.

There was a long jam now in the already congested road.

He looked at the small road not far away.

After thinking for a while.

Time was indeed running out.

So he turned the steering wheel and drove onto the small road.

…

John was standing on the third floor of an old building.

He reached out and placed the half-smoked cigarette beside the railing.

The cigarette butt was partly inside the railing, and the tail was outside.

Then, he didn't do anything else.

He just placed his hand gently on the railing.

His gaze wandered. A car appeared in his sight.

It was the Lamborghini that was preparing to turn around and drive in his direction.

John looked at the watch he was wearing.

The time was 8.25 PM and 36 seconds.

Then, he turned around and went downstairs.

…

A truck drove over on the small road.

In the truck was an expressionless Hamlet.

He had only temporarily taken over the driver's job today.

Although he didn't reveal his emotions, it was clearly not as relaxed as he appeared.

His hands that were holding the steering wheel were clenched too tightly.

His knuckles turned slightly white because of it.

He carefully observed the speed of the car.

From the corner of his eye, he was also paying attention to the time.

He didn't know what was awaiting him.

No reason, no explanation, no purpose, no result.

He just trusted Brother John unconditionally.

He just needed to completely follow the requirements.

He glanced at the Lamborghini coming towards him.

He looked away and continued his work.

…

At the side of the old street.

John was standing in front of a breakfast shop.

He had just bought some steamed buns.

Of course, there was also soy milk to quench his thirst.

He turned around.

He looked at the intersection not far away.

The Lamborghini was brushing shoulders with the truck.

He lowered his head.

His watch told him it was now 8.40 PM and 30 seconds.

It was quite a round-figured timing.

The wheels of the truck crushed over a pile of cement.

The cement splattered everywhere.

It landed on the glass window of the Lamborghini.

The truck gradually disappeared into the distance.

Warwick wanted to tell the truck driver to stop.

But it was too late.

His expression was ugly.

The more the wiper wiped,

the dirtier the glass was.

As if it was wiping the cement all over the glass.

Warwick's vision became more and more blurry.

He had no choice but to step on the brakes.

The parking spot was just below the old building where John was standing.

"Master, I'm going out of the car to wipe the window." He was slightly terrified.

"Okay." Stansen unexpectedly didn't lose his temper and just responded casually.

His right eyelid twitched just now.

But he didn't think too much about it.

Warwick got out of the car with a rag.

He felt extremely depressed.

Just then, a dilapidated chair came into view.

As if wanting to vent his unhappiness.

He casually kicked the chair away forcefully.

Bang!

The chair crashed into the old building's wall and also the water pipe.

The originally dilapidated chair instantly broke into pieces.

As if it felt the vibration.

Or perhaps it was because the cigarette butt inside the railing couldn't withstand the weight of the cigarette tail outside the railing.

The cigarette couldn't take the burden and fell quietly.

The high-temperature cigarette butt happened to break the thin rope of a banner on the second floor.

Half of the banner fell from the second floor.

It hit the glass window of the Lamborghini.

There wasn't any damage at all to the car.

A light weighing banner wasn't enough to damage the Lamborghini.

However, Warwick was even more frustrated.

He frowned and tried his best to pull down the banner.

Something unexpected happened.

As the banner was torn down, it broke the glass on the second floor.

A crisp shattering sound rang out.

The broken glass reflected the brilliant sunlight and fell to the ground.

Warwick looked at the glass shards on the ground.

Only then did he realize what had happened.

He staggered and frantically tried to escape.

However, it was already too late.

A sharp piece of glass, as if it was precisely calculated, accurately hit his neck.

An intense pain assaulted him.

He covered his neck and wanted to say something.

Only foamy blood flowed out of his mouth.

Soon, he fell to the ground.

It was only then that Stenson noticed the devastation outside the car.

His eyes were filled with fear, and his body trembled.

"He noticed me!"

"I'm his next prey!"

…