The Killer Queen with Multiple Disguises

Mr. Johnson referred to Oliver Johnson, the only son of the Johnson Group in San Francisco, and also

her fiancé.

The marriage between the Ellis Family and the Johnson Family had something to do with the

grandfathers of both families.

Both grandfathers had been villagers in Geary Village, and their bond was as close as brothers. They

had made a pact to betroth the next generations to each other.

Due to certain circumstances, the arranged marriage had been postponed until Hedy and Oliver’s

generation.

However, the Johnson Family’s business had grown tremendously, transforming from a humble village

household to a prominent family in San Francisco.

According to the common plot twists in dramas, the Johnson Family should have kept silent about this

marriage arrangement.

However, Oliver’s grandfather held a deep respect for the principle of honesty in business dealings.

Not only did he not neglect the Ellis Family, but he also frequently sent gifts to the countryside.

Upon hearing that Hedy’s exam results were unsatisfactory, Oliver’s grandfather arranged for Hedy to

attend Lowell High School, the best prestigious school in San Francisco.

He even claimed that his grandson also studied at Lowell High School, conveniently creating an

opportunity for the two to bond.

Unfortunately, Mr. Johnson did not inherit his grandfather’s virtues.

Hedy’s host had endured three years of bullying at school without any help from Mr. Johnson.

Furthermore, Oliver’s grandfather passed away earlier this year, making it impossible to arrange an

engagement ceremony.

“There’s no rush.” Buddy looked at his wife.

“City folks have high standards, and Mr. Johnson might not think highly of our daughter. Our daughter

doesn’t have to marry into the Johnson Family if she doesn’t want to. It’s up to her.”

“You’re right,” Malina nodded in agreement. “Even if the Johnson Family offers us a billion dollars, we

won’t accept it if Hedy is not willing!”

Hedy kept her head down, eating her meal in silence.

This kind of love from her parents felt unfamiliar to her.

After dinner, Malina entered Hedy’s bedroom, meticulously checking the items her daughter needed for

school, fearing that she might have missed something.

She quietly turned off the lights and left after Hedy couldn’t resist her drowsiness any longer and fell

asleep.

However, as soon as she left, Hedy opened her eyes, her pupils gleaming with a cold light.

“There’s a smell of blood and gunpowder in the air.”

Assassins had to deal with bullets and blades all the time, and sharp vigilance was the first requirement

for survival.

She was certain that a gunfight had taken place in the mountains behind her house. Pretending to be

tired, she intentionally made Mrs. Ellis leave.

“In the USA, people don’t easily pull the trigger unless their lives are in danger.”

“So, what’s going on in the mountains?”

“Cops versus mobs? Or a battle among mobs?”

“Either way, Malina and Buddy might be in danger. They are too close to this place.”

A glint of murderous intent flashed in Hedy’s eyes as she leaped out of the window. Like an agile

leopard in the night, she headed straight for the mountains.

The system retained her skills as an international assassin from her previous life. Soon, she found an

elderly man behind a bush, with a tree branch piercing through his thigh.

He gritted his teeth tightly, drenched in cold sweat, trying hard not to make a sound.

The old man was dressed in military green attire, and the badge on his shoulder made Hedy’s pupils

dilate slightly.

She recognized this emblem – it was the prestigious Medal of Honor belonging to Amos King, one of

the founding fathers of the USA.

In his youth, General King had led three hundred soldiers and miraculously defeated an invading army

of over one hundred thousand on the frontier, shedding blood to protect the integrity of the homeland.

Since then, he had gained international fame.

Even Hedy admired this man.

Now the question arose.

Who dared to hunt down a military district chief within the borders of the USA?

“I found you, Mr. King.”

Around the corner appeared a burly Italian man with a stubbled chin, holding a silenced assault rifle,

aiming the barrel at Amos’s heart.

“Mi dispiace molto, ma come dice il proverbio: “Prendi i soldi, aggiusta i problemi”.

Amos struggled to catch his breath, his eagle-like eyes fixed firmly on the Italian man. A sense of

desolation filled his heart.

Who would have thought that after a lifetime of military service, he would end up dying so helplessly?

“Crack!”

The sound of crushed leaves abruptly echoed.

It caught the attention of both the stubbled-chin man and Amos. They turned to the left and discovered

a young girl, about eighteen years old, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere behind the tree.

She wore a pink pajama set with a floral print featuring little white rabbits, her long hair cascading down

her back, making her look quite beautiful.

It was her eyes, though – they seemed somewhat calm, perhaps even unnaturally so.

“Run!” Amos swiftly grabbed the man’s leg, urging the girl to flee.

Protecting the people of the USA was a duty engraved deep within him!\

The girl appeared to be a villager who happened to pass by this area, unaware of the danger right in

front of her.

“Shit!” The burly man kicked Amos away and immediately aimed the gun at the girl, his finger resting

on the trigger.

He was told that the beheading operation should not be witnessed by anyone else!

Perhaps the man’s intimidating presence was too much, as the girl bent her knees slightly, crouching

down.

Seeing this, a disdainful expression appeared in the man’s eyes.

She must be scared now!

But in the next moment.

The girl sprang forward like a compressed spring, knocking down the man with a spinning kick. She

swiftly took the gun from his hand, aimed it at him, and pulled the trigger!

Bang!

The gunshot echoed as the bullet hit its mark – right between the man’s eyebrows!

In the moonlight, the girl stood with her body turned to the side, holding the rifle in one hand. Her

golden hair danced wildly in the wind as the chilling intent in her eyes remained undisguised, as cold

and ruthless as the Grim Reaper.

“You…you…”

General King found himself unusually stuttering!

This girl, wearing adorable pajamas, had not only disarmed the Italian assassin but also turned the

tables on him, killing him barehanded.

If he hadn’t witnessed it with his own eyes, he would never have believed it!

“Who are you?” Amos asked nervously.