In an office building, shabby on the outside but luxuriously decorated within, on the top floor's large room, nearly three hundred monitors were in operation, covering the entire chemical plant area.
The observers included many staff members, Tony and his two S-level assassins, as well as a dozen or so oddly dressed individuals.
These people were men and women of all skin colors—yellow, white, black—but they all kept a certain distance from one another, staying on guard.
The majority of their attention was focused on the figure of death on the monitors, their faces expressionless, eyes flickering non-stop, as they each made various assessments in their minds.
Tony observed the people around him and felt it was time to say something.
"Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, unfortunately, my trainees haven't learned much in the way of assassin skills and have not inflicted any real damage on death, they only wore him out a little."
