The other person slowly raised his head, his golden eyes ten times more intense than Tang Wei’s, causing even the firelight to dim in comparison. Tang Wei felt a huge force push his gaze away, and he involuntarily dropped to his knees, trembling. The other person had golden pupils as well, but his power was overwhelming. Tang Wei no longer had the courage to look him in the eye and suddenly understood why some hunters had shivered when faced with his own golden pupils. It felt like facing some kind of demon; the golden fissures in the pupils formed complex patterns, as if they could strip away one’s spirit.
Tang Wei was slammed against the wall with great force, his feet off the ground. An iron grip clamped around his neck, and his cervical vertebrae were on the verge of cracking. He convulsed all over, but he had no way to struggle. The iron grip gradually tightened, causing blood flow to his brain to diminish, his consciousness to blur, and his vision to fade. Although the other person seemed to be engulfed in flames, Tang Wei felt no warmth from the hand gripping him. Those golden eyes occupied his entire field of vision, slowly opening and closing. Those were not human eyes—there wasn’t the slightest trace of pity. He was observing Tang Wei, looking at the dying man with indifferent curiosity, like a child poking at an ant with a stick.
Tang Wei’s cervical vertebrae made a cracking sound, and he never imagined that hearing his own neck breaking could be this terrifying. He knew he was really going to die this time, and at this moment, he actually wished for his end to come sooner.
Because facing these eyes was more terrifying than death!
Suddenly, the person let go, allowing Tang Wei to fall to the ground face first. Tang Wei had only barely regained consciousness and hadn’t even figured out whether he should be relieved when he saw the person turn and pick up a heavy fire extinguisher.
“Is he going to bash me to death?” Tang Wei’s heart clenched. He couldn’t quite tell whether being strangled to death was better than being bashed, but was it really so hard to make it quick?
Instead, the other person pressed the extinguisher’s nozzle and doused the flames on Tang Wei’s clothing. Only then did Tang Wei realize that his clothes had caught fire at some point.
The person threw away the extinguisher and slowly retreated, leaving black footprints on the carpet with each step. The black-red aura that surrounded him gradually faded, as did the hazy boundary. The iron-blue scales on his skin, which had emerged like insects, receded back under his skin. It wasn’t a demon or monster but a young man—a handsome young man, who was really just a big boy. He was wearing a Federal Express uniform, soaked to the skin. If it weren’t for the deadly blade in his right hand, he would have looked like just a delivery boy who came in the rain to pick up a parcel. Tang Wei was stunned for a while before he began coughing violently while holding his throat.
The boy sat on the sofa, holding his sword with both hands, and slowly adjusted his breathing.
Tang Wei didn’t know what to make of all this. He stared at the boy, who kept his gaze lowered. Suddenly, the boy transformed from a monster back into a young man, or perhaps he had aged suddenly.
“Is that your dad?” He pointed to a picture on the wall and asked softly, his voice unexpectedly gentle, even polite.
It was a 36-inch photo framed in purple sandalwood. In it, Tang Wei wore a black robe and mortarboard, with his arm around his father’s shoulders. The sun was shining brightly, and his father’s face was full of wrinkles, looking as if flowers were about to bloom from his smile. It was Tang Wei’s graduation photo. Though the university he attended wasn’t particularly prestigious, his father had worked hard all those years to put him through school. He had been proud, bragging to his colleagues at the factory and even buying a suit to attend Tang Wei’s graduation ceremony. Tang Wei hadn’t cared much about the graduation, but his father had insisted on renting a graduation gown and forced him to wear it. He even paid for the photo, which bore the red caption, “July 1994, Son Tang Wei’s University Graduation, Father.”
“Yes, yes!” Tang Wei nodded vigorously. “That’s my dad. Looks a lot like me, doesn’t he? Big nose.”
He realized his escape from death was all thanks to that picture. But his father wasn’t someone powerful—just a factory worker with no special background. How had that convinced this killer to back off? Could it be… that this boy was his long-lost twin brother? But could twins be more than a decade apart in age? Maybe an illegitimate child of his father? But could his father have such a good-looking illegitimate child? Tang Wei’s mind raced with wild scenarios as he sized up the boy.
“Looks a lot like you.” The boy nodded, glanced at his watch, and said, “No time for small talk, my time is limited. You’ve taken something you shouldn’t have.”
Without another word, Tang Wei opened the safe and took out the document envelope, handing it over with care.
“Never opened it?” The boy checked the intact seal.
“No, no, it’s something the client wanted. How would we dare to peek? We were supposed to send it out tonight, but here you are.” Tang Wei nodded and bowed as he spoke.
“Sorry for the financial loss.” The boy picked up the envelope and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window.
He leaped out, disappearing into the rain.
Tang Wei stood frozen for a few seconds before collapsing weakly to the ground, pulling out his phone with trembling hands. He dialed his father’s number. As soon as the call connected, his father started yelling, furious and worried after Tang Wei’s depressing words earlier. He hung up, and when Tang Wei tried calling back, his father wouldn’t pick up—nearly giving him a heart attack.
“Why the hell are you shouting? The guest left. I’ll be home for dinner tonight, save me something hot.” Tang Wei impatiently hung up. He leaned back against the bookshelf, exhausted, and began pondering whether his father had secretly had an affair.
The grandfather clock boomed, its chimes echoing off the office walls. Tang Wei shivered violently, remembering the courier who was supposed to come at 7:00 to pick up the parcel. The “courier” mentioned by the employer was the boy, and the originally planned outcome was for him to be dead—he was only alive now because of that photo.
Cassell College headquarters, central control room. The digits on the big screen jumped to “19:00,” and the red dot on the East Asian projection vanished instantly. Schneider looked up and exhaled slowly.
“Mission accomplished,” Manstein said quietly. “Schneider, you were right. He can complete missions alone—he can’t work with anyone else… his bloodline is too powerful.”
“For a student who strives for ‘the strongest,’ only being ‘the strongest’ is passing; anything else is failing.” Schneider showed no satisfaction. “And that’s also his biggest flaw.”
“I don’t want to congratulate you on having such an outstanding student,” Manstein said seriously. “He’s malfunctioned once again. One minute and fifty seconds after the operation started, he completely deviated from the plan we had drawn up. Although he successfully retrieved the data, we have no idea what he did during those three minutes and ten seconds. Not to mention the large number of injuries he caused… The cleanup won’t be easy. Though I’m worried about the potentially huge cleanup bill, you know that’s not the biggest problem…”
Schneider nodded. “It’s the mission report—this time, he may be on the edge of losing control.”
“I can pretend not to know, but you have to find a way to deal with it. You know the harm that dangerous bloodlines can bring us,” Manstein said. “Don’t let personal feelings affect your judgment.”
“Yeah, sometimes I wish he was more like Lu Mingfei—no special abilities at all,” Schneider said quietly.
“What nonsense!” Guderian expressed his dissatisfaction. “Mingfei is full of potential!”
“Ridiculous! What role did your brilliant student play in this mission? He’s having dinner with a girl!” Schneider and Manstein said in unison.
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