Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts

Chapter 272: Chapter Two Hundred And Seventy One

The three thugs quickly scrambled to obey. They walked quickly ahead of her, leading her into the dark, abandoned building.

Camilla walked inside. The warehouse was huge. The roof had several large holes, letting shafts of dusty sunlight shine down onto the floor. There were broken crates, old ropes, and empty barrels scattered everywhere. It was the perfect, classic location for a secret kidnapping and a murder.

"Wait here, my lady!" the largest thug shouted suddenly.

He ran forward into the center of the warehouse. He found a large, sturdy crate that was still intact.

He quickly pulled off his torn leather vest. He used the leather vest to aggressively and frantically wipe the thick layer of dust and dirt off the top of the wooden crate. He scrubbed the wood until it was clean, desperate to make sure the Lady’s expensive silk dress did not get a single speck of dirt on it.

"Here, my lady," the thug said, breathing heavily from the effort. He pointed to the clean wooden crate. "Please sit. It is clean enough for you."

Camilla walked over to the crate. She arranged her skirts neatly around her legs. She sat down comfortably.

She looked up at the three large men standing nervously in a semi-circle around her. They looked like loyal, frightened guard dogs.

Camilla slowly turned her head. She looked around the warehouse. She looked at the shadows. She listened carefully for any sounds of breathing or movement.

The warehouse was empty. There was no one else there. The mastermind who had hired the thugs was missing.

Camilla slowly turned her face back to the three men.

She raised a single eyebrow. Her eyes turned cold and flat.

"Are you trying to fool me?" Camilla asked. Her voice was not loud, but it carried a heavy weight of suspicion.

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

"Where is the person who sent you?" Camilla demanded smoothly. "You said you were being paid to kidnap and kill me. Where is your benefactor?"

The three thugs panicked. They saw the cold look return to her eyes. They thought she was going to pull out her hidden knives and kill them right there.

The fake driver waved his hands frantically in the air.

"My lady, please don’t be angry!" the man pleaded, his voice shaking with terror. "We are not trying to fool you! We swear it on our lives!"

He pointed a shaking finger at the large doors of the warehouse.

"We were told to bring you here," the man explained rapidly, desperate to prove his innocence. "This is the exact address written on the letter the hooded man gave us. The location is correct."

He swallowed hard, offering a hopeful excuse.

"Maybe... maybe they are just late," the man suggested nervously, offering a weak smile. "Traffic in the upper city can be very bad, my lady."

Camilla looked at their terrified, sweating faces. She knew they were telling the truth. They were far too scared of her to attempt a lie.

She let out a quiet sigh. She uncrossed her arms and rested her hands politely on her lap.

"Okay then," Camilla replied softly, nodding her head slowly.

She looked into their eyes. She delivered her final warning with a calm, terrifying voice.

"If they don’t come within thirty minutes," Camilla stated smoothly, "I will kill you three."

The three men all swallowed loudly in unison. The sound of their gulping was clear in the quiet warehouse. They nodded their heads rapidly. They knew she was dead serious.

The waiting game began.

The warehouse was hot and stuffy. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty minutes.

The three thugs were doing everything in their power to keep Camilla happy while they waited for the mastermind to arrive. They did not want her to get bored and decide to execute them early.

One of the thugs picked up a large piece of cardboard from the floor. He stood a few feet away from her, waving the cardboard back and forth rapidly, acting as a human fan to create a cool breeze for her.

"Is the breeze comfortable, my lady?" the fanning thug asked nervously, sweating profusely from the physical effort.

Camilla simply nodded her head once. "It is acceptable."

Another thug ran around the warehouse, picking up small pieces of broken wood and tossing them outside, trying to make the dirty floor look a little bit cleaner for her eyes.

"This is terrible service," Camilla thought to herself, her internal voice filled with annoyance. "If you are going to hire assassins to kidnap someone and kill them, the least you can do is arrive at the location on time. The mastermind is completely unprofessional."

She tapped her shoe lightly against the floor, counting the minutes in her head.

Finally, after an entire half an hour had passed, a sound broke the quiet silence.

Crunch. Crunch.

The distinct sound of footsteps walking on the gravel outside the warehouse echoed loudly.

The three thugs stopped what they were doing. They turned their heads toward the large, open sliding doors.

Camilla stopped tapping her foot. She sat up straight. She kept her face calm, but her sharp senses activated instantly. She focused her eyes on the bright light shining through the doorway.

Two figures appeared in the entrance of the abandoned warehouse.

The bright afternoon sun was behind them, casting their faces in dark shadow for a brief second. As they stepped fully into the dim interior of the building, their appearances became clear.

The first figure was a tall man wearing dark clothing. He wore a dark cloak. The large hood of the cloak was pulled down low over his head, entirely hiding his face and his eyes in deep shadows.

It was the hooded man. But it was the second figure that caught Camilla’s attention.

The second figure was a young woman. She was wearing a flashy bright green silk dress covered in white lace. Her blonde hair was styled perfectly.

It was Lady Isabel Ryde.

Isabel walked confidently into the warehouse. Her face was twisted into an ugly, cruel triumphant smile. She thought she was walking in to find a tied-up, terrified Camilla begging for her life. She was fully prepared to order the thugs to cut Camilla’s throat.

But when Isabel looked toward the center of the room, her triumphant smile froze.

She did not see a distressed victim.

She saw Camilla sitting very comfortably, looking relaxed. She saw the three thugs standing respectfully around Camilla, holding a piece of cardboard to fan her like dedicated servants.

Isabel blinked her blue eyes rapidly. She was confused.

Camilla looked at Isabel and thought to herself, her internal voice laughing out loud.

"Of course," Camilla thought, shaking her head slightly in her mind. "Of course it is her. She sticks out like a sore thumb."

Camilla decided to strike the first verbal blow. She wanted to mock the foolish girl instantly.

"Lady Isabel," Camilla called out cheerfully, acting like she was greeting an old friend at a tea party. "What brings you here to this dirty place?"

Isabel stood frozen near the door, her face turning a bright shade of angry red.

Camilla leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on her knees. She tilted her head, her smile growing wider and more mocking.

"Were you kidnapped today too?" Camilla asked, her voice full of fake concern.

She paused for a single second.

"Or," She continued, her voice dropping into a dry, flat tone of insult, "are you the one behind this?"

She looked Isabel up and down, judging the pink dress and the confused expression.

"Actually," Camilla declared confidently, shaking her head in fake pity. "I will choose the former."

She delivered the final insult with a straight face.

"Because," Camilla said smoothly, "you aren’t smart enough to plan a kidnapping on your own."

The entire warehouse went silent.

Isabel’s jaw dropped open. Her blue eyes widened in outrage. Her face turned a dark, burning shade of furious purple.

"You..." Isabel shrieked loudly, her voice echoing wildly against the high wooden roof of the warehouse. "You dare insult me?!"

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