Johnny didn't know that someone else was targeting him, but it didn't matter; he was already used to it.
From the moment he became John's personal disciple, he was surrounded by many halos, but these halos were not positive for him.
It was precisely because of these halos that he was constantly attracting inexplicable enemies, although most of them he brought upon himself.
However, he could understand those who came looking for him because of these halos; some couldn't defeat John, so they planned to eliminate his disciple to vent their anger.
Others were looking for trouble because they had been taught a lesson by Ling Feng, and he needed to reclaim his honor.
Outside the car window, Orleans' July sun poured down generously, with a temperature almost melting the asphalt.
The afternoon air shimmered slightly in the view, like looking through a steaming curtain of water.
Under a sky of pure blue, continuous rows of old, goose-yellow limestone buildings stretched out, dazzling under the intense light, yet exuding a serene warmth.
The wheels rolled over the cobblestone road along the Royal River, emitting a dull, rhythmic rumble, each small bump gently swaying Johnny's body.
The car window was rolled down by a third, and hot air, laden with the city's essence, squeezed in: a crisp, toasted aroma of freshly baked baguettes, the slightly bitter, rich concentration of a café's espresso, and the indescribable, warm scent of ancient stone and asphalt baked by the sun, mixed with the dust of history.
Sycamore trees lining the streets, their branches forming a canopy, cast deep shadows, and filtered light spots danced merrily on the windshield.
Their thick trunks were full of texture, and dark green leaves lazily curled in the hot wind; through the gaps in the leaves, occasional flashes of striking red, white, and blue could be seen.
These were small French flags hanging on residents' windowsills, on street lamp posts, and more often, placed in the center of small round tables at outdoor cafes.
Last night, the French team had just advanced to the World Cup quarterfinals, and the small town was still immersed in the afterglow of joy; even the air seemed a few degrees warmer than usual.
The car turned a corner, and blinding sunlight instantly streamed in.
On the edge of the square, outside a small flower shop, several vibrant sunflowers glowed golden, and an old woman in a floral dress stood in front of the flower bed, carefully selecting flowers.
A baker strode across the street, a baguette tucked under his arm, the headline of a newspaper visible beneath it.
An old clock above a shop facing the street steadily pointed to a quarter to three in the afternoon.
Muttering French radio broadcasts intermittently came from the radio; the driver reached out to turn up the volume, and after a few indistinct post-match comments, the lively prelude to the support song that seemed to be playing all over the city began again.
Instantly, this small car compartment seemed to be infused with the vitality of the outside world. The wave of French voices mixed with the hum of the crowd, then was covered by the smooth sound of tires driving over freshly paved roads.
A group of young cyclists laughed as they sped past, triangular flags tied askew to their handlebars, their blue and white jerseys soaked with sweat.
"Sir, tonight... the game?" Daniel's eyes sparkled with anticipation in the rearview mirror.
"Of course." Anyway, he was on vacation, so it didn't matter if Daniel wanted to watch the game.
And Daniel, as a fan, naturally couldn't miss this historic moment.
The peugeot 406 made a smooth turn, entering another, quieter alley.
The alley was narrower, the mottled walls on both sides squeezed closer, and the ancient timber-framed houses seemed to lean in to embrace each other, their colorful window shutters covered with a thin layer of dust.
Just like that, Daniel drove his peugeot 406 through this slightly narrow alley, and the moment the taxi exited the alley, the view suddenly opened up.
Boom!!!
As the vehicle continued to move forward, about 200 meters ahead, a huge explosion suddenly occurred; flames shot into the sky, glass shattered and splattered everywhere from the shockwave, pedestrians screamed, and even from 200 meters away, the windows of Daniel's peugeot 406 were directly shattered.
Johnny was bewildered. What was happening?
He immediately drew his FN57 from under his arm and looked around cautiously, but found nothing unusual.
200 meters away, it wasn't just the ground floor that exploded; the second and third floors also exploded simultaneously.
This was the first time Johnny had encountered such a situation.
"I didn't expect to encounter a bombing in France?"
Facing Johnny's question, Daniel scratched his head, indicating that this was quite normal in France.
Right! This is great!
Johnny was speechless, but then he saw several people rushing down from the building.
Each of them wore tactical gear, carrying rifles, and began spraying bullets at people on the street.
After a while of shooting, they got into a black van, and before getting out, they didn't forget to throw two smoke grenades to obscure vision.
Watching the other party's mysterious actions, Johnny looked bewildered.
To be honest, after the Sacrifice Squad's special training, he really wanted to complain about such unprofessional behavior.
It was neither practical nor efficient.
Soon, several more people rushed down.
These people were wearing civilian clothes, and Johnny judged them to be plainclothes officers.
After discerning a direction, they casually stopped a car, pulled the owner out, and drove off in pursuit.
"Oh, I didn't expect to encounter a bombing and a street chase here?"
Johnny pointed in the direction ahead and said to Daniel, "Follow them and see."
Daniel was naturally a keen spectator and, having received his employer's approval, naturally floored the accelerator and gave chase.
Thus, a black van was fleeing in the lead, followed by four cars in pursuit, and the last car, of course, was the peugeot 406 carrying Johnny.
Both sides were exchanging fire, while Daniel maintained his distance at the very end, also keeping a sufficient distance from the car in front to prevent being hit by stray bullets.
"Stop for a moment, something's not right ahead."
Johnny had been observing the dynamics ahead and suddenly warned Daniel.
Daniel immediately slammed on the brakes, and the entire car drifted to a stop by the roadside, while the black van in front also stopped.
The people inside began firing wildly at those behind, and there were even RPG rocket launchers.
Johnny and Daniel sat in the car, quietly watching.
Because Daniel had stopped the car early and parked it by the roadside, blending in with a pile of other cars, the people in the cars ahead hadn't noticed them.
They were fighting fiercely, back and forth.
Watching them made Johnny a little sleepy.
It wasn't until a man wearing strange-looking tactical gear appeared that Johnny's spirits perked up.
This man came from the other side, firing as he walked, and almost every shot took down a member of the opposing tactical squad who was resisting.
The speed of his shooting and the precision of his aim made even Johnny gasp in admiration.
The equipment he was wearing seemed a bit sci-fi.
Johnny estimated the bulletproof level was quite good, because the opponent shot him many times, and he was completely unharmed.
For this, Johnny even took a photo; he definitely needed to keep an eye on this guy, who knows, he might run into him someday.
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