Chapter 10

The headquarters of the Qinlian Conglomerate was heavily guarded. Without the intelligence and assistance provided by Qin Wenyou, I never could have infiltrated it so easily.

The fiftieth floor was the chairman’s office, guarded by professional bodyguards hired from abroad. It took me two minutes to take them out without making a sound.

I took a deep breath and pushed open the ink-black, bulletproof steel door.

In the vast office, a young man sat at the desk, head down, reading documents. Hearing the noise, he looked up at me, a flicker of confusion on his face.

“Who are you?”

“Sorry.” The pistol spun in my palm. A bullet struck his temple, and he collapsed to the floor with his chair, hitting the ground with a thud.

Something was wrong. It couldn’t be this simple.

Based on years of experience in killing, I judged that I had walked into a trap. The chairman of the Qinlian Conglomerate could never be taken out this easily.

I spun around abruptly. Three people appeared at the entrance.

A young man walked in front, wearing a tailored black suit. His face was identical to the one I’d just killed. If I wasn’t mistaken, this was the real deal—the new chairman of Qinlian, Zhou Mo. Much like the “shadow warriors” of Japan’s Sengoku period, the one who died by my gun was just a decoy he’d specifically sought out.

Behind Zhou Mo, to his left, was a scarred, lanky man who looked like a skeleton that had just crawled out of a grave. He was a semi-retired hitman nicknamed “Seven Kills.” Rumor had it that during his prime, he killed seven people every day—a natural-born killing machine. To Seven Kills’ right was a chubby man with squinty eyes who looked as harmless as a Maitreya Buddha. My heart sank. It seemed I wouldn’t be getting out of here in one piece. This fatty was nicknamed “Jiang Ya,” another legendary hitman. It’s worth noting that he was a hitman who specialized in killing other hitmen; no fewer than eighty of his peers had died by his hand.

Qinlian was indeed wealthy and powerful, able to find monsters of this caliber to serve as personal bodyguards.

Recalling Qin Wenyou’s strange smile, I couldn’t help but grit my teeth. That kid had treated me like a toy from the very beginning. He used money to drive me to commit twisted murders, trying to push me to a nervous breakdown. When he saw me trying to pull away, he gave me an impossible mission, just to see what kind of cards his rival, Zhou Mo, had in his hand.

“The most important thing in chess is not to be a pawn sent to your death.”

Boss Lu had seen through all of this. He had been trying to wake me up, but I had been on guard against him for too long to trust him.

“I know who sent you, and I can give you a chance,” Zhou Mo said, pulling a cigarette from a gold case and lighting it slowly. “If you can take my men back to find him, I can let you go.”

“I hate him too. If I could, I wouldn’t mind killing him myself,” I said with a smile, rubbing my sore wrist.

“So, you agree to cooperate?”

“Sorry, hitmen have their own rules. We don’t betray our clients’ information. That’s a golden rule.” I tossed my gun to the floor. Against Seven Kills and Jiang Ya, a pistol wouldn’t be enough.

Zhou Mo shook his head regretfully and stepped out of the room.

“A pity,” Seven Kills said, flashing a wild, manic grin.

“Indeed a pity. He’s good material,” Jiang Ya sighed, his fat body blurring into an afterimage.

How long does it take for a cigarette to slide from one’s hand to the floor?

In that span of time, I finished the first round of fighting with Seven Kills and Jiang Ya. Seven Kills’ legs were like fast blades; I only took two hits, and my throat was already choked with blood. If I wasn’t mistaken, my liver was hemorrhaging. Jiang Ya’s throwing knives were even more troublesome—he’d managed to insert one into my left elbow joint at an impossible angle, effectively crippling half my fighting ability.

Seven Kills let out a strange cry, his voice as hoarse as a rabid wolf’s: “I’m going to kill you! I’m going to strip every piece of flesh off your bones! Aaaaaah!”

I smiled with grim satisfaction as I flicked an eyeball onto the floor.

Seven Kills clutched his blackened left eye socket, blood gushing out and making his expression even more hideous.

Jiang Ya was also clutching a wound on his abdomen. In that split second, I hadn’t hesitated to pull the throwing knife out and stab it into his gut. He was shocked by my decisiveness and retreated to a safe distance.

It was a draw, barely, but the second round wouldn’t be so easy.

If this was the hardest mission of my life, then today was the strongest I had ever been.

I glanced at Zhou Mo outside the door. He hadn’t even blinked at the level of carnage he’d just witnessed. I had to admit, this young man was more terrifying than I’d imagined.

“Bastard, he’s still thinking about killing the target even now? Old Jiang, we’re being treated like small fry.” Seven Kills lowered his left hand, letting the blood pour from his eye socket like a faucet.

“Kill him!”

Jiang Ya’s movements became several times faster. Seven Kills lunged at me with raw, explosive power, kicking toward my neck. I tilted my body to the left, just as Jiang Ya’s throwing knife, carrying the scent of death, flew straight for my throat.

The ultimate aesthetic of violence. The next round had begun.