The Wenlian Financial Group’s central tower was heavily guarded. If it hadn’t been for Wen yuan’s intelligence and inside help, there’s no way I could have slipped in so easily.
The fiftieth floor was the chairman’s office. At the door stood professional bodyguards hired from overseas. It took me two minutes to silently take them out.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the jet-black, bulletproof steel door.
The office was huge. A young man sat at the desk, head down, reading documents. Hearing the commotion, he looked up at me, a trace of confusion on his face.
“Who are you?”
“Sorry.” The pistol spun in my palm, and the bullet struck his temple. He fell backward with the chair, crashing to the floor with a dull thud.
Something’s wrong. It can’t be this easy.
With years of experience as a killer, I knew instantly I’d walked into a trap. The chairman of Wenlian Financial Group couldn’t possibly be taken out so easily.
I spun around. Three people appeared at the doorway.
A young man led the way, dressed in a custom black suit, his face identical to the one I’d just shot. If I wasn’t mistaken, this was the real target—Wenlian’s new chairman, Bai Kun. Just like a shadow body double from the Japanese Warring States era, the one I killed was just a decoy, a stand-in he’d found for situations like this.
Behind Bai Kun, on the left, was a gaunt man with a face full of scars—so thin he looked like he’d just crawled out of a grave. He was a semi-retired hitman, known as “Seven Blades.” Legend had it that during his prime, he killed seven people a day—a born killing machine. On his right was a chubby man with squinty eyes, his face round and seemingly kind, like a stone Buddha. My heart sank. There was no way I’d get out of here in one piece. This guy was nicknamed “Jiang Shan,” a notorious killer famous for hunting other hitmen. At least eighty assassins had died at his hands.
Bai Kun’s wealth and power were obvious—only they could hire monsters of this caliber as personal bodyguards.
Thinking back to Wen yuan's strange smile, I couldn’t help but grit my teeth. That bastard had played me from the start. He’d used money to drive me to kill again and again, pushing me to the edge of a breakdown. Now, as I tried to leave, he’d set me up with an impossible task, using me to test what cards Bai Kun had up his sleeve.
“The most important thing in chess is not to be a pawn sent to die.”
Boss Li had seen through everything. He’d tried to warn me, but I’d been too guarded to trust him.
“I know who sent you,” Bai kun said, pulling a gold cigarette case from his pocket and lighting up slowly. “But I’ll give you a chance. If you help my men find him, I’ll let you go.”
“I hate him too. If I get the chance, I wouldn’t mind killing him myself,” I replied with a wry smile, rubbing my sore wrist.
“So, you agree to cooperate?”
“Sorry, but a hitman has his own code. I can’t betray a client’s information. That’s the iron rule.” I tossed my gun to the floor. Against Seven Blades and Jiang Shan, a pistol was useless.
Bai Kun shook his head in disappointment and slowly stepped out of the office.
“A pity,” Seven Blades grinned, his face twisted with bloodthirsty excitement.
“Truly a shame. You would’ve been a great asset,” Jiang Shan sighed, his massive body blurring as he moved.
How long does it take for a cigarette to fall to the floor?
In that brief moment, Seven Blades, Jiang Shan, and I finished our first round of combat. Seven Blades’ legs were like sharp blades—just two kicks and my throat filled with blood. If I guessed right, my liver was already bleeding out. Jiang Shan’s throwing knives were even more troublesome. One had struck my left elbow at an impossible angle, rendering half my arm useless.
Seven Blades let out a guttural howl, his voice hoarse and wild like a rabid wolf: “I’m going to tear you apart—leave you with not a single unbroken bone, you bastard!”
I grinned, spitting blood onto the floor.
Seven Blades clutched his darkened left eye, blood streaming down his face, making him look even more terrifying.
Jiang Shan, too, was holding his stomach where I’d stabbed him with his own knife in a split-second counterattack. He staggered back to a safe distance, shocked by my decisiveness.
It was a draw—for now. But the next round would be much tougher.
If today was the hardest job of my life, then today was also the peak of my power.
I glanced at Bai Kun outside the door. Even witnessing this brutal fight, he didn’t so much as blink. I had to admit, this young man was far scarier than I’d imagined.
“Damn, even now you’re still thinking about killing the target. Jiang, looks like we’re just cannon fodder to them,” Seven Blades said, lowering his hand and letting the blood pour from his eye socket like a faucet.
“Kill him!”
Jiang Shan’s movements blurred, and Seven Blades, with primal fury, lunged at my throat. I dodged left, but Jiang Shan’s throwing knife whistled toward my neck, reeking of death.
A new round of violent ballet began.
Chapter 10
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