Reborn in 24 TV SHOW

Saint Jiali's face softened with a hint of pity. In a seemingly heartfelt tone, he said, "I understand you. I'm a father too. I have two sons and a daughter, and she's the apple of my eye. Believe me, I understand."

Just as Bryan thought the man might have a change of heart, Saint Jiali's voice hardened. "But I'm sorry. This is business. You understand, don't you? Business. I have to be responsible to my clients. There's nothing else I can do."

He sighed, as if explaining further would ease his conscience. Then, turning to the guards, he ordered, "That's enough. I have other matters to attend to. Take care of him—but quietly. We don't want to disturb our guests."

With that, Saint Jiali left. One of the guards signaled to another, who approached Bryan from behind. He pulled out a leather belt and looped it around Bryan's neck, slowly tightening it.

Bryan's breathing became labored, and the guards stared impassively as he struggled, clearly experienced in executions of this kind. Despite his efforts to twist his neck free, the situation grew increasingly dire.

In a moment of desperation, Bryan leapt into the air, using his body weight to snap the hook securing the ventilation pipe. The pipe fell, striking one of the guards on the head with a loud clang, eliciting a yelp of pain.

Seizing the moment, Bryan delivered a powerful kick to another guard's stomach, sending him sprawling. He turned swiftly and delivered a vicious low blow to the man behind him. As that guard doubled over in agony, Bryan snapped his neck with a sharp twist.

The guard struck by the pipe had just regained his senses when Bryan charged forward, stomping on his foot. The man screamed, only to have his throat crushed by a brutal punch. He choked out a gurgling sound before collapsing.

The guard Bryan had kicked was now getting to his feet, reaching for his gun. Bryan lunged, grabbing the weapon. The two struggled, but Bryan's superior strength prevailed. He forced the barrel downward, pressing it against the man's thigh.

Bang!

The guard let out a howl of pain as the bullet tore through his leg. Bryan wrested the gun away and fired two shots into the man's chest.

Near the elevator, Saint Jiali heard the gunfire and scowled in irritation. "What the hell?" he muttered, turning to one of his subordinates. "Go check on them. Do they not understand what I meant by 'quietly'?"

Before the subordinate could respond, his head exploded in a spray of blood—Bryan had appeared at the elevator door, gun raised.

Saint Jiali froze, his face pale with fear.

Bang! Bang!

Two shots struck Saint Jiali in the left arm. He stumbled into the elevator just as the doors opened, groaning in agony. Blood seeped through his expensive clothes as he writhed on the floor. He had never experienced pain like this before—he was a rich man, after all, unused to suffering.

Bryan approached and aimed the gun at him. "Tell me. Where are the girls?"

"Don't kill me..." Saint Jiali whimpered.

Bang!

A bullet tore through his right arm, making him convulse in pain.

"You can't do this..." Saint Jiali gasped.

Bang!

This time, the bullet shattered his left leg. He screamed but quickly realized his pleas were useless.

"At the end... of the corridor... in the room at the end," he stammered, trembling. He pointed weakly to a nearby hallway and begged, "Please... I have children. It's just business... nothing personal..."

Bryan stared at him coldly. "Now it's personal."

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The shots echoed in the corridor, silencing Saint Jiali forever. Without sparing the corpse another glance, Bryan sprinted toward the end of the hallway.

On his way, Bryan encountered several guests stepping out of their rooms to investigate the commotion. They were likely participants in the auction. Without hesitation, Bryan sent each of them to meet their maker.

Reaching the final door, Bryan kicked it open. The room was small, connected to the transparent auction chamber. Inside, he spotted several girls along with the bald auctioneer. Bryan fired twice, killing the man instantly, and began searching frantically among the girls.

Kim wasn't there. He found Amanda, but Kim was nowhere to be seen.

"Amanda! Do you remember me? I'm Kim's father. Where is she? Was she sold?" Bryan asked urgently.

Amanda's eyes widened in recognition before she broke down in tears. The other girls, stirred by the mention of their trauma, also began sobbing uncontrollably. Bryan felt helpless but forced himself to calm down and comfort Amanda. He knew she was in shock and that he wouldn't get any answers until she regained her composure.

After a while, Amanda's sobs subsided enough for her to speak. "Kim... she's not here. I was supposed to be sent to a club, but... they mixed us up."

"You mean Kim was sent to the club?" Bryan's heart sank.

"Yes... she... she was sent... instead of me..." Amanda choked out between sobs.

"Fuck!!!"

The Third Floor of the Club

Owen pressed the female assassin against the corridor wall, passionately kissing her. She clung to him, running her hand through his hair and pressing his face into her chest. She moaned softly, savoring the moment.

From the circular window of a nearby door, shadows moved. The door swung open, and several armed security guards entered. They froze at the sight of the couple locked in an intense embrace. Their murderous expressions faltered, replaced by knowing smirks.

One of the guards whistled. The apparent leader chuckled and said, "Hey, you two. We've got a security alert—there's been an intruder. Mind showing us your IDs?"

Owen's movements stilled as if startled. The guards laughed, but their amusement was short-lived. Fire erupted from beneath Owen's arm.

Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!

The silenced gunshots echoed dully, and the guards crumpled to the floor.

The female assassin pushed Owen away, adjusted her clothes, and replaced the magazine in her silenced pistol. Owen looked at her with a mischievous grin, muttering something about her having more curves than he expected. She rolled her eyes in response.

The two quickly looted ammunition from the bodies and resumed their mission. Working together, they methodically cleared the third floor of guards, leaving a trail of corpses in their wake.

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