“You pity me. You pity me... Why?”
She thought about so much, from the moment she woke from her coma to the brink of death, recalling the look Lin Mo had given her in the occasional flickering light.
She finally understood. Smiling to reveal blood-stained teeth, she said, “Because I had a younger brother. The painful sight of me losing him made you empathize with me.”
“I'm sorry, but I don't share those feelings. You were wrong to project your emotions onto me. I don't have a brother—he was just a child my mother adopted. In the beginning, I really did like him, but as he grew older...”
“There was nothing I could do about it. Even though he was extremely weak and frail, that couldn't cover up the fact that he was aging. I couldn't stand him for even a single day more.”
“...”
Her breathing on the floor came in ragged gasps, like a broken bellows.
“Stop looking at me with those eyes,” Chen Xijian said, her breath as weak as a thread. “I'm not like you. I didn't love him. I killed him.”
Lin Mo stood before her as Chen Xijian forced out her final words through blood-filled lungs. Her voice grew fainter and fainter until she closed her eyes forever, her life slipping away entirely.
A9 marveled, 【She managed to say so much even after taking a kick from you. Her physical stats must be pretty decent.】
【If only she were a main character, then I could check her constitution stat. It'd definitely be in the double digits.】
The rain eased, bringing the dawn of a new day. As the sun peeked over the horizon, Lin Mo stood silently before the dilapidated main gate.
A9 asked, 【Are you curious about what happened to her?】
【Once the comic comes out, I'll check if it's in the plot I didn't write. If it is, I'll tell you.】
Lin Mo continued to ignore it, pulling her phone from her pocket.
Blackheart Agency's #1 Genius 【Finally! Good thing you didn't forget about me~】
【I already woke up from a full sleep and you only just finished up? How exhausting.】
【Map】
A9 knew that "#1 Genius" had sent Lin Mo a message, but it couldn't understand what the two of them were actually communicating.
First coordinates, now a map—whose location were they exposing?
Still, since the guy was the intellectual type, he probably had a reason for everything he did.
【Lin Mo, ask him what he means! He definitely didn't send these data points just to mess with you; they're probably useful.】
Before it could finish speaking, Lin Mo's message was already sent out.
543613 【Got any transport?】
Blackheart Agency's #1 Genius 【Yep! But it'll take half an hour to dispatch it over.】
The two conversed seamlessly. A9 felt... well, it turned out it was the only one kept in the dark. How on earth did their thought processes align so perfectly?
It peered closely at the screen for a while and faintly grasped what was going on. Could those be the mastermind's coordinates?
These two working together were truly birds of a feather. Did perverts share the exact same brainwaves?
Yet the "#1 Genius" had actually caught onto what Lin Mo wanted to do most. He really lived up to being part of the brainpower division.
543613 【What kind?】
Blackheart Agency's #1 Genius 【A yacht and a helicopter. The helicopter is faster. Want it?】
Lin Mo looked at the red dot displayed on the map, located far away on another continent.
543613 【Anything faster?】
Blackheart Agency's #1 Genius 【What are you expecting? I'm not Dorae*on! Helicopter it is, then!】
543613 【Fine.】
Blackheart Agency's #1 Genius 【Ha, I knew it. It's parked at your 3 o'clock position, 200 meters ahead.】
A9 stared blankly at these two like-minded weirdos colluding together. If it remembered correctly, wasn't this their very first time working together?
...
Dark gray sound-absorbing felt covered the walls, and the carpet underfoot was thick enough to swallow all footsteps. The fresh air ventilation system blew in a cool fragrance infused with cedar, maintaining a constant temperature and humidity. Only the spherical security camera above the head of the black-clad mercenary rotated slowly.
Each surveillance lens glinted with a faint blue anti-reflective coating, recording every detail inside the room.
A sharp, maniacal laugh echoed inside the room.
“Hahaha! They're dead, all dead! Fantastic! Just one left, only one left!”
Inside a sealed room, a man stared with bloodshot eyes at the dense array of black screens before him. Every person who died had their own dedicated close-up shot.
His heart pounded wildly with excitement. His throat felt heavily constricted, and he couldn't control his violent panting as he gazed at his perfect masterpiece.
Slapping the tabletop repeatedly in his wild laughter, he shrieked with delight, “Perish on that island, all of you! Their sins were enough to warrant dying a hundred times over anyway. To be able to perform such a magnificent show for me is the ultimate and final value their lives will ever achieve!”
Life was far too dull, so of course he had to find some amusement for himself. It was merely a fictional script, yet everyone seemed to believe they were the true killer. Having committed so many evil deeds, they possessed a surprisingly clear self-awareness.
Vigilance, suspicion, turning into mutual slaughter.
An ordinary street had unexpectedly gathered a complete colosseum just for him.
Everyone harbored secrets in their hearts that they couldn't speak aloud. But it still wasn't enough; his work was not yet perfect. He was still short one person—one final victim.
He took a deep breath and leaned back against his recliner to calm his frantic excitement.
He would send more people over to draw a complete period to this event of despairing, tragic art.
The man waved his hand, and the mercenary behind him stepped forward, bowing respectfully. “Listen up. Notify the mercenaries on the perimeter of the island to silence the last one. Don't let a single rat escape that island, understood?”
The mercenary bowed respectfully. “Understood.”
Right at this celebratory moment, the phone on the black desk vibrated, ruining the mood.
The man's expression instantaneously turned ugly. With his mood ruined, even if this call informed him that he had made ten million, he wouldn't be happy.
He felt like sweeping the phone off the desk, but fearing he might miss important news, he picked it up with a sullen face.
Only when he clearly saw the garbled mess of characters on the screen did his foul expression instantly soften. He squeezed out a smile even though the person on the other end couldn't see him.
—#&%＜£ 【Hello?】
An ambiguous, gender-neutral voice came through the phone, accompanied by crackling static. It sounded somewhat like the voice he had disguised in the broadcast.
The man covered the mouthpiece, cleared his throat, and said obsequiously, “Is there something I can help you with, Sir?”
—Oh, nothing big. As a gift for our cooperation, I'm going to give you a piece of news. After all, you've rendered us a great service.
—If it helps you, my friend, that would be for the best.
The man brightened with joy, lowering his voice as if terrified that someone listening in might hear the news.
“Please, go ahead! I'll be sure to keep it in mind.”
—Just a word of advice.
—Run.
—Run as far as you can.
The gleam in the man's expression froze on his face.
What did that mean?
He hastily said, “Sir, could you explain a bit more clearly? What's going to happen? What kind of threat will I face, and how do I resolve it?!”
Before he could finish, the line went dead, leaving him roaring at his phone.
Now, the man couldn't laugh at all. What on earth was going to happen?
He was not a self-opinionated fool; otherwise, he never could have secured a deal with that Sir, obtained his assistance, and completed his artistic masterpiece on the island.
Rate on N.U.
