Chapter 35-36

Chapter 35: Morning Rain

London, UK, Denison Emergency Center.

This renowned hospital boasts the most advanced emergency treatment facilities and the best first aid and trauma physicians. Despite not having a scratch on him, Bruce, just like Trista and Gus, underwent a full-body examination arranged by the London police to avoid any suspicion.

It was just a basic checkup, which proved to be utterly ineffective against demons who could control their bodies with ease. The results were unsurprisingly mundane, although the hospital insisted some data wouldn't be confirmed until the next day.

Gus and another bodyguard who survived had a different story; the latter was genuinely injured. Gus had even changed his clothes before the police arrived to avoid revealing the severity of his wounds through his nearly shapeless torn clothes—now he only showed some minor injuries. The examining doctor kept praising his astonishingly good physical condition.

By the time everything was wrapped up, it was nearly six in the morning, just as dawn was breaking. Holding a cup of instant coffee, Bruce walked out to the hospital's large terrace. Trista, wrapped in her coat, stood at the edge of the railing, her tall silhouette blending with London's grey skies after the rain, creating a remarkably beautiful painting filled with an indescribable sense of beauty.

"Sorry you still can't taste the coffee made by your boss. But I've tried it, and the instant coffee here isn't too bad."

After admiring the view for a moment, Bruce approached, handing one of the cups to Trista while naturally caressing the back of her hand, still cold, obviously not yet recovered from the shock of the attack.

Though she had stayed in the car, the roaring explosions and gunfire outside must have terrified this usually strong professional woman, likely scenes she had only seen in movies before.

"I never had any expectations." Trista surprisingly retorted, clearly realizing Bruce was trying to ease her tension. She became somewhat more alert.

"Nice comeback! But I must remind you, lady, although you're off duty today, I'm still your boss." Bruce took a sip of the piping hot coffee, his lips curling into his usual teasing smile.

Trista turned to look at Bruce, her eyes filled with confusion and curiosity: "You don't seem afraid at all? Why? Have you encountered something like this before?"

Throughout the attack, Bruce had remained extremely calm and composed, as if he had anticipated the outcome, never showing a hint of panic. Yet, she had felt the threat of death acutely. If not for his constant reassurances, she might not have made it through, perhaps panicking enough to run out of the Lincoln and fall under stray bullets. Even now, the thought terrified her.

"This is a heartbreaking question. I hope I'm not that unlikable." Bruce chuckled, continuing to joke until he saw the woman still staring at him unwaveringly, then he reluctantly shook his head. "Fear doesn't solve anything. You probably won't believe me if I say I had confidence in Gus and the others. But the fact is, we're still standing here, aren't we?"

"But everyone else is dead! So many people! They were all alive before this! Is your heart made of steel?"

Trista couldn't stand Bruce's almost cruel calmness and finally started yelling at him, tears in her eyes, even attracting the attention of nearby watchful police officers. If not for Bruce signaling that everything was okay, they might have come over to check.

"Hey! Tris! Look at me! Everything will get better, it's just an accident, okay?"

Bruce held Trista's shoulders with both hands, looking into her eyes with equal seriousness until she couldn't hold back anymore and burst into tears in his arms. He understood that she just needed a chance to let out her pent-up emotions, or else it would be a real problem.

She cried for a good fifteen minutes, soaking his shirt, showing that even the strongest women are still women at heart, even if she was a lesbian, revealing her moments of vulnerability. Bruce gently lifted Trista's face, handed her a handkerchief to wipe her tears, and continued:

"Listen to me, Tris. I'm very, very heartbroken too! Each of those guys was remarkable. And I'm even angrier than you because I know these people wanted to intimidate me, to make me weak and back down. They're like greedy wolves, always looking to take what's not theirs, happiest when getting something for nothing. Always lurking around you, making cruel howling noises.

"If I show even a bit of fear or weakness, they'll have achieved their goal, becoming bolder, more reckless, more overbearing. Everything we've worked so hard for, all the results of countless people's efforts, would end up in their hands. And all the sacrifices would be meaningless! Do you want that? I don't! So, I have to be strong!

"I'm telling them to go to hell

! They can't take what's ours. I'll fight back harder, make them afraid, let them know we're not to be messed with! So, I hope you can think about it calmly. They never dared to hurt us because they know they can't afford the consequences. I need you to be strong, okay?"

He successfully portrayed himself as a resilient, unyielding victim. Seeing Trista's stunned expression, she easily believed Bruce's narrative, recalling the miraculous research projects she had seen, quickly siding with the notion that they were the underdogs.

"You know who did this, right? You'll make them pay, won't you?" Trista's eyes gleamed with hope, suddenly realizing her previous prejudice against this man was rather narrow-minded, feeling a mix of shame and regret.

"Yes, I know, and I definitely will make them regret it. But I need your help. Can you keep going? I promise you won't get hurt." Bruce's smile was gentle again, truly a special girl.

Trista didn't hesitate for long but nodded firmly, as if making a decisive resolution.

She was completely unaware of how intimate their posture had become until a cough sounded from the side, making her step back a bit flustered.

"Mr. Lee, correct? I'm Colin Federer from the British Foreign Office, and this is my colleague, Gloria Hill."

The speaker was a tall, dashing man in a crisp suit, with light brown short hair and a hint of stubble adding a touch of charm, the epitome of an English gentleman. Beside him stood a tall woman with light brown bobbed hair, fair skin, and delicate features, strikingly beautiful.

Both appeared to be in their early thirties, energetic yet experienced.

Bruce had been aware of the uninvited guests but pretended to notice them only now, shaking hands as if he had just awakened: "Good morning, I'm Bruce Lee. How can I assist you?"

Chapter 36: MI6

The so-called Office of the Permanent Undersecretary of the Foreign Office might confuse those not in the know, serving as a public front for another, far more renowned entity: the British Military Intelligence Section Six, commonly known as MI6 or the Secret Intelligence Service (SIS). It's the same department that houses the fictional spy icon James Bond, 007.

The distinction lies in the fact that while the latter exists only in novels and films, MI6 is a very real British intelligence agency.

"We need to understand the specifics of yesterday's events from you," Colin Federer said.

"After a long day, I was in desperate need of rest. But to help catch the culprit sooner, I'm willing to provide any assistance and clues within my power," Bruce shrugged.

"And this lady, she was attacked alongside you, correct?" Colin Federer turned his gaze to Trista standing by.

"Oh, this is my secretary, Miss Trista Joyce. Please forgive her; she's been frightened. Could she perhaps rest first?" Bruce made introductions then looked inquiringly at them.

"Miss Joyce is also a victim of the attack; we must speak with her as well," Gloria Hill, standing beside them with an expression as cold as machinery, interjected bluntly, blocking Bruce's suggestion.

Bruce's smile faded as he turned to Colin Federer, who showed an apologetic grin but still sided with his colleague, "I'm sorry. We need to report to our superiors as soon as possible. It won't take much time as long as you cooperate."

"Do you need to rest, Trista? If you're not ready, I can ask them to come back later to talk to you," Bruce gently patted Trista's shoulder.

Trista, feeling the unusual aura emanating from Colin and his companion, hesitantly shook her head, indicating she could endure, and Bruce no longer opposed.

The conversations were conducted separately, with the cold-faced agent, Gloria, choosing to speak with Bruce. Meanwhile, Colin took Trista inside the hospital to a specially arranged temporary office.

"We can talk here. I'd like some fresh air if you don't mind," said Bruce, feeling somewhat uneasy without his bodyguards. He stepped towards the building's entrance, disregarding the surprised looks of the officers, and lit up a cigarette leisurely.

"Mr. Lee, please describe the situation in detail from the beginning. The more detailed, the better. Don't omit any details," Gloria said, seemingly oblivious to his actions, her expression unchanged but reminding Bruce not to leave anything out.

Before this year, he was just an ordinary international student who suddenly rose to prominence with a new invention, a rise so rapid it was almost miraculous. Another Mark Zuckerberg-style genius?

Bruce recounted the events more thoroughly than she expected, from start to finish, including his feelings and speculations. Of course, in his story, he and Trista stayed in the car the whole time, while the bodyguards and attackers clashed violently outside.

Gloria didn't spot any inconsistencies in his story, but something felt off to her; the man was too calm, as if he hadn't been on that hellish battlefield but merely a bystander.

"So you're saying you don't know the specifics, only coming out after the fight ended?" Gloria squinted, scrutinizing Bruce's facial expressions for any slip.

Bruce nonchalantly dropped his cigarette butt into a disposable coffee cup, then nodded sincerely, his face a picture of innocence and resignation.

"Your eight bodyguards, armed only with standard P226s, managed to eliminate nearly twenty of the attackers in an ambush? May I ask their background?" Gloria persisted, not letting him off easily.

"Ah, of course. Gus and the others are from Fortress Security, mostly exceptional ex-military. I'm proud of them," Bruce stated matter-of-factly.

"Do you know who the attackers were? Why they targeted you? Do you recognize the equipment on one of them?" Gloria pulled a photo from her jacket pocket, showing Black Nest team leader Lloyd with a bullet wound in his forehead, lying dead with an oddly painted powered exoskeleton.

"I'm not sure of their origins or why someone would commit such an act," Bruce shook his head but after a closer look added, "Though I'm a scientist and a businessman, it's inevitable to have enemies. I can't imagine anyone hating me to this extent. His equipment? It's my first time seeing it, but it seems like some kind of powered exoskeleton."

"With such an armed squad capable of taking down fifty to a hundred soldiers, you're telling me a few handguns did the job? Especially when most didn't have gunshot wounds?" Gloria scoffed, her stature shorter but her presence more imposing, as if looking down on him.

Bruce's explanations seemed half-truths to her; this overly calm man must be hiding many secrets!

Sadly, intimidating Bruce was clearly out of the question. He didn't retort but instead smiled a bit helplessly, looking into her beautiful blue eyes. "Miss Hill, you seem to be quite unfriendly towards me. Are you treating me like a suspect now? Those unaware might think I'm the terrorist behind the attack."

Fortunately, at that moment, Colin Federer finished his conversation with Trista and reappeared on the terrace, quickly stepping in between his partner filled with a hint of explosive tension. "Gloria, I think that's enough. Why don't you wait for me downstairs?"

Gloria continued to glare at Bruce, and after a long moment, she left without a word. He, unbothered, shrugged his shoulders and called out to her, "Miss Hill, I'm here actually on a scouting mission, planning to establish a new R&D center. So, we might have the chance to meet again. If you have any questions by then, feel free to ask. I'm happy to clear any doubts."

"Sorry, the workload has been a bit heavy lately. Hope you understand, Mr. Lee." Seeing Gloria leave, Colin seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, flashing a gentlemanly smile.

He clearly hadn't gotten much useful information from Trista. This beautiful secretary was undoubtedly innocent, and after a few exchanges, he quickly realized she truly knew nothing.

"It's fine. London is a beautiful city; I don't want to leave it with a bad impression," Bruce said, waving his hand. He truly didn't mind. People from intelligence agencies always see potential enemies in everyone, and he wasn't interested in spending too much effort on them.

"There's a special detail you might not be aware of. We found a military-grade tracker in the crevice of your car tire, something quite difficult to come by on the market. Of course, it's nothing compared to their equipment," Colin said, halfway through shaking his head, obviously troubled by the sophistication of the equipment.

"This tracker can emit signals from a long distance, only about the size of a quarter of a fingernail, so it's hard to notice. Mr. Lee, I think it's very likely they'll continue to take action against you. Perhaps you should consider cooperating with us for your own safety."

So, that was it. If it were a living being, it would be hard to escape Bruce's perception. But such a high-end tracker, not yet recovered to his peak state, might indeed be overlooked without deliberate attention.

With that thought, Bruce didn't pick up Colin's line of reasoning but instead looked up at the main building of the Denison Emergency Center, where a phrase was inscribed: "Your body is vast, but all it needs is a heart."

"Sometimes we must learn to choose, to give up or not, depends entirely on what you value more," Bruce pointed to the inscription above, turning to face Colin Federer squarely. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm afraid I can't provide more clues for now."

Colin paused, but quickly resumed his smile, handing over a business card, "If you think of any situation, or need help, contact us anytime."

"I will," Bruce nodded, shaking hands with him before parting ways.