A few hours after Zhou Qingfeng arrived in Paris, Chekov, who planned the T-50 incident, hurriedly returned to Paris. He came back so nervously not in a hurry to chase his target, but the Maobei government was furious about the T-50 incident.

The advanced fighter jets developed by him to fight against the air pressure of China and the United States in the future were easily driven to Mongolia. If you can go to Mongolia, you can naturally go to the flower planter, and you can also go to Korea, Japan, and the United States. Then you can also develop a ghost plane!

The problem was so serious that Chekov hurriedly escaped from Ulaanbaatar. When he arrived in Paris, he felt relaxed and the Western free world was so sweet.

Outside the airport, a team of strong Russian men with sunglasses were waiting for Chekov. The beautiful Bentley luxury car opened the door, and the female secretary with long legs and hips was dancing in the car. All of this made Chekov feel that life was so beautiful again.

Chekov sat in the car and saw another strong man with a bigger style sitting beside the female secretary. The other party was trapped in the leather sofa with a big golden sword and said expressionlessly: "Chekov, you have caused me trouble."

Isn’t this a pot that doesn’t open to any pot?

Chekov said 'um', with no expression on his cold face, "Sorry, boss. I don't know if there is something wrong there. The plan you arranged is perfect, but the fighter plane was shot down. No one can explain this."

In more than ten hours, public opinion has made the t-50 time hype, and all kinds of speculations are flying all over the sky. There are the 'trek crash theory, the 'defection and shot down theory, and even the 'em encounter with the J-20 theory'..., all kinds of fantasy ideas, but there is no 'em encounter with the f-22 theory'.

Some things cannot be hidden. The European underground world is watching jokes about Russian gangs, and different gangs are also talking about them.

Although Chekov's boss was angry, he had no intention of letting go. "Our target had arrived in Paris a few hours ago, and I sent someone to send them a bullet. I think he should have felt a hint of fear.

This time we must kill him, otherwise our prestige will be greatly lost. I can give you another chance to kill the guy named Linsen and regain our reputation and your own."

In the gangster world, reputation is life. In the boss's cold and low tone, Chekov knew that he had to do it as soon as possible because his boss had never had much patience. "I understand, sir. I will deal with it as soon as possible."

Bentley drove to the 77th province in the suburbs, which is a traditional wealthy area in Paris, with a very high safety factor. The patrol police cars passed by very diligently. The villas here have complete security measures. Bodyguards with sunglasses are the most common people here.

Bentley finally parked in front of a large villa, and the iron-made villa door opened automatically to let the luxury car enter. The car stopped in the corridor of the villa's front hall, and the bodyguard was responsible for going forward to open the door, and the sturdy boss walked down first.

"Welcome back, Mr. Gusinsky." The villa's housekeeper stepped forward and bowed slightly. From a normal perspective, Chekov's boss is a financial investment tycoon from Russia, a legitimate businessman, and a respected charitable person.

As the boss of the gangster, Gusinsky snorted and walked into his villa. There were more than 30 bodyguards in and outside the villa, which was responsible for defense, and the safety was extremely high.

It was already early in the morning, and Gusinsky went to the airport to take Chekov back, saying that he attached great importance to the "century reward". Taking this reward was not only a matter of money, but also a matter of fame and reputation. He had to urge this matter to be settled as soon as possible.

Gusinsky also felt tired at this moment. He took off his coat and walked slowly towards the stairs to the bedroom. But the villa's butler suddenly ran over and said hurriedly: "Sir, I have a call to you."

Looking back at the cell phone the housekeeper brought over, Gusinsky frowned and asked, "Who called?"

"He said he was Lin Sen." The butler's expression was also very strange.

"Haha..., it's very interesting. Could it be that he begged me for mercy?" Gusinsky sneered and answered the phone and shouted 'Hey', then he heard a greeting from his phone, "Is it Mr. Gusinsky?"

"It's me."

"I'm Linsen, I just arrived in Paris. You should know me, right?"

"Oh, welcome to Paris. Of course I know you. Although it is unexpected, I'm glad you could call me, is there anything I can do for you?"

Gusinsky said this with a smile on his face, as if he was playing with an idiot. But his smile quickly solidified because the person who talked to him on his phone was not a good person.

"I heard that there was a "century reward" worth up to $100 million recently, and the target was me. I was really shocked! What shocked me even more was that in order to kill me, someone would buy a Russian T-50. It is a great honor for people to mobilize such advanced and confidential fighter jets.

Mr. Gusinsky, as far as I know, this is what you planned behind the scenes. I have to admire your imagination and action. Really, I admire your courage very much. But I don’t want to die yet, so I can only ask you and your men to die.”

When Gusinsky heard that he had revealed his true face so quickly on the phone, he was dancing. When he heard Zhou Qingfeng talk about the "Century Bounty", he wanted to pretend to comfort him; when he heard Zhou Qingfeng talk about it, he wanted to deny it flatly; but when he heard the threat of death...

Gusinsky felt aggrieved and shouted in a deep voice: "Mr. Lin, do you have any misunderstandings about me? Do you think I am a person who can be threatened?"

"Don't deny it, it's meaningless. I just remind you, whose hands you will die next? Now..., enjoy your last life. You have three extremely special friends coming soon, I wish you good night!" Zhou Qingfeng hung up his phone and twisted his body easily in his room.

The female Guoan officer was watching next to Zhou Qingfeng. Hearing his tone and words on the phone, he immediately asked, "Who are you calling?"

"A Russian made a fortune by reselling the huge Soviet arms inventory more than 20 years ago. He still has some influence in Russia, and he made up the T-50 incident more than ten hours ago. I will naturally not be polite to him if anyone wants to kill me."

Latin dance music was being played in the bedroom of the suite, and Zhou Qingfeng kept twisting with the fast-paced melody, and his wild look seemed both rebellious and wild. To be honest, he danced well.

But the female Guoan officer asked again: "What does it mean to be 'you're welcome'? What exactly are you going to do?"

Zhou Qingfeng stopped moving and tilted his head and said, "Just kill someone. Others want to kill me, are I going to wash my neck and wait for others? Have you ever killed someone?"

A female military officer from Guoan had read some information about "Lin Sen", but she really didn't expect that Zhou Qingfeng was publicly yelling to kill someone as soon as she arrived in Paris. Faced with the rhetoric, she could only change the topic and say, "I want to report this situation."
Chapter completed!