I transmigrated and got a husband and a son!
Chapter 1044: Cause of death: Hera.

Chapter 1044: Cause of death: Hera.

"Ugh..." the hitman crawled his way to some place safe. He was shot in the leg as he was caught off guard. Regardless of his fast reflexes, the place they were in was an open area. Thus, he didn’t find an immediate place to hide.

"Damn it," he cursed through his gritted teeth, clasping his fist on the rough concrete. "Damn it!"

The gunfire stopped, and only its echoes remained, but the man knew it was far from over. All he could do was curse the middleman with his heart out. He didn’t catch the person inside the container, but it didn’t matter. It could be from Interpol or some business rivals. It didn’t matter.

What mattered was his life.

Quite the irony from a man whose job was to take other people’s lives.

"Hey, hey!" Primo called cockily, marching in the man’s direction. When he reached the person, he stepped on his back to stop him. "Do you really think you’d go far if you crawled like that?"

The hitman clenched his teeth and glared back. However, he said nothing.

"Come on, man. You just killed your middleman in cold blood!" Primo exclaimed. "Don’t look at me like I’m the bad guy."

"I know you," the hitman sneered. "Alexander Cafre."

"I must be very popular in the Sun Organization, huh? It seems like everyone from that shit hole knows me. What am I? A celebrity in your eyes?"

"Heh. You fought for Johnny for two years. Of course, we know you. How foolish you were and how fun it was to watch you fall into insanity."

Primo’s smirk remained, aiming down his weapon at him. "Any last words?"

"Do you know who killed Johnny’s father?"

Primo didn’t respond.

"It was me who put a bullet into his head," the man breathed out sarcastically. "You should let me go because if not for me, they would’ve lived."

"What a logic you got there."

"It’s not nonsense." The man’s breathing grew heavy. "If not for that man, you wouldn’t even take the case. But that man knew people’s minds and bribed your boss. They all knew taking that case was a bad omen, but they still accepted it and used you as a scapegoat."

"Dimitri gave you mercy," he added under his breath. "He let you live, even though he could’ve killed you too."

The smile on Primo’s face slowly disappeared, replaced by a layer of frost. "You must’ve been sucking Dimitri’s dick behind closed doors," he remarked, his tone was cold — striking harsh. "It seems like you got the definition of mercy from a different book. Because in my vocabulary, letting me live was not mercy. It was pure torture."

BANG!

Primo almost flinched when a sudden bullet clanged against his shoulder. The man then swiftly grabbed his ankle, pulling it down to cause him to lose balance. But alas, Primo’s reflexes were also fast. The moment he felt a hand around his ankle, he purposely collapsed on his bottom and landed on the man’s body. He then kicked the gun from the man’s hands, letting it slide away from them.

"Ugh!"

Sitting on top of the man’s chest, Primo rested his feet on either side of the man.

"It seems you didn’t do your research," said Primo, moving his muzzle to the man’s nostrils. "I lost an arm quite some time ago and almost died. See these scars?"

He tilted his head a little to show the burnt scar on the side of his neck. "For a hitman, you should’ve hit the other side. That way, the bullet would hit the flesh. You could’ve saved yourself... or not. My friends are just around the corner, after all."

"Let me tell you one thing before you reunite with your dearest friends," he continued. "I might’ve always wondered what the fuck did I fucking do to catch Dimitri’s eyes. But now, I don’t even wonder about it anymore."

"That man is sick in the head, thinking he’s smarter than everyone else," he added, stressing each word to get his point across. "Well, guess what? He might be smart, but he’s not as skilled."

Primo lowered his head. "He crossed the wrong people this time. Even if I don’t kill him, he’s good as dead."

The man tried to snatch Primo’s weapon as his last attempt to turn things around. However, Primo simply stepped on his wrist and stomped them back to the ground.

"Hera Cruel... that would be your cause of death. Or maybe stupidity," Primo laughed evilly. "Now that I think about it, you know her. You were the driver in that SUV with... Romeo? Or was it Ronel?"

The man ground his teeth, trying to lift his wrist from under Primo’s foot.

Bang!

Primo shot his arm, earning a loud shriek from the man.

"Haha. So, you also scream like a little wimp, huh?" Primo snickered. "It doesn’t matter if you know Hera. You failed to kill her during that chase, and now she’s your problem. Dimitri would’ve riddled your body with bullets once he finds out that Hera motherloving Cruel is after his ass."

He laughed in satisfaction, observing the look that was forming on the man’s face. "He’s someone who always finds someone to blame for his incompetence. And he’ll blame you for not finishing the job."

"Damn it..." the man breathed out one last time, glancing at Primo’s finger, which was caressing the trigger. "He’s alive!"

Primo paused, brows raised.

"Johny is alive! I’ll tell you where he is!"

Primo didn’t answer, as he only studied the desperation in the man’s eyes. "Too late," he said. "I don’t need your help to find that sick bastard. I’ll find him myself."

"Damn it!!"

BANG!

Primo unhesitatingly pulled the trigger, firing it straight at the man’s nose. Blood splattered on his cheeks and clothes, but his eyes showed no remorse. He wiped his cheek with the back of his fist and pushed himself to stand up.

Looking down at the hitman, he spat out at him. "Fucker," he muttered, taking his phone out to make a phone call.

"The job’s done," he said, only to hear Hera say she knew. "I’ll load this up quickly."

After the quick phone call, Primo looked at the dead bodies around him. Another sigh escaped him, not feeling the satisfaction he thought he would have. However, it brought him this little peace to control the turmoil he had been containing in his heart.

"Fuck it," he blurted out, grabbing the hitman’s ankles. "This would be a lot of work."

Primo dragged the hitman to the container and then dragged everyone inside it, one by one. The last person he put in it was the middleman. Standing in front of the container with his hands on its doors, he gazed at the bodies inside.

"Funny coincidence, isn’t it?" he uttered. "Your end is the same as what you lived off most of your life."

And as soon as those words rolled out of his tongue, he slammed the door closed.