Chapter Forty-Five: The Last "Messenger"
“…Now, it’s our turn to play the role of screenwriter.”
When Xiao Ran’s voice, brimming with a sense of mastery, resounded in the command vehicle, a drama she herself had written, with Lin Feng as the special effects director and the entire “Dark Bureau” task force starring, officially began. The sole “audience” for this grand performance was Anderson, far away, thousands of miles across the world, who believed himself to be “God.”
…
Inside the mobile command vehicle, Lin Feng’s fingers gently swept across the virtual keyboard.
In the VIP Lounge A-1 on the third floor of the Pujiang International Arts Center, several pinhole cameras that he had secretly commandeered began to operate. A clear, panoramic “stage” scene was transmitted live—via a disguised “system security loophole” encrypted backdoor—to Anderson’s so-called “unhackable” computer in New York.
New York.
Anderson watched his screen, observing the “Viper,” who had just locked himself and the hostage inside the “fortress,” looking disheveled and desperate. Anderson’s brow furrowed slightly. He disliked this feeling of losing control.
…
Third floor, VIP Lounge A-1.
The atmosphere was tense to the extreme. The man codenamed “Viper” was gripping Shavit’s throat with his uninjured left hand, holding him so tightly that Shavit’s face had lost all color from fear. Viper’s snake-like eyes swept warily over every corner of the room.
“Damn it!” he growled desperately into his earpiece, whose signal Lin Feng had already cut off. “Headquarters! Headquarters! Do you copy? We’re surrounded! Requesting instructions!”
Only static answered him—an unbearable silence.
Shavit trembled violently under his captor’s grip. Half of his trembling came from fear. The other half was due to the cold, imperious voice in his ear, transmitted through a micro-communicator no larger than a grain of rice—a voice belonging to Xiao Ran, delivering precise “stage directions.”
“Look at him,” Xiao Ran’s voice whispered like the devil. “Look at him with pity—and with mockery.”
Summoning every last ounce of courage in his life, Shavit slowly raised his head, gazing at the assassin teetering on the edge of rage and anxiety. In a tone heavy with “sympathy,” as if speaking to a dead man, Shavit began:
“It’s useless.”
Though his voice still trembled, each word pierced “Viper’s” heart like a blade forged in ice.
“Don’t waste your energy.”
“You think you’ll walk out of here alive?”
“To Anderson, a failed ‘cleaner’ is…”
“…someone to be eliminated immediately…”
“…trash.”
“Bullshit!” “Viper” roared in fury, tightening his grip around Shavit’s throat. Yet, a flicker of doubt crossed his fierce eyes. He remembered the terrifying stories within the organization about the fate of “failures.”
…
“Continue,” Xiao Ran’s voice was calm and unwavering. “Take out your phone. Hand it to him. Tell him Anderson has sent new instructions.”
Shavit, trembling, obeyed. He handed his encrypted phone to “Viper.”
“Viper,” uncertain, took the phone. The screen clearly displayed a “top-secret directive”—forged by Lin Feng, perfectly mimicking Anderson’s style:
[TO: ‘Messenger’. ‘Cleaner’ has been exposed, no longer trustworthy. Execute Plan B. After obtaining the ‘frame,’ purge him and the room together.]
…
When “Viper” saw the word “purge”—which in their organization meant “elimination”—his assassin’s heart finally shattered.
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“No… Impossible…”
His eyes became hollow, filled with utter disbelief and despair.
“Sir… He… He wouldn’t… He wouldn’t do this to me…”
He had been abandoned.
…
New York.
Anderson saw it all through the surveillance. He stared at the forged “directive” on screen, then at “Viper,” whose spirit collapsed in an instant. For the first time, his elegant face twisted with rage.
“Zhu Rong—!”
He let out a beast-like roar, filled with murderous intent.
He knew he had been played once again!
He snatched up the encrypted phone, codenamed “Ghost,” from his desk—a device he’d avoided using until now.
“The plan is out of control. I need support.”
…
Shanghai, auction venue.
VIP lounge.
After his breakdown, “Viper’s” gaze turned from despair to a wild, destructive madness.
“Hahaha… Fine… Fine!”
His laughter was uglier than crying.
“If you all want me dead…”
“Then come die with me!!”
He raised his gun—not at Shavit, but at the priceless painting, at the heart of all their schemes—
“Sea Storm.”
He was about to destroy it.
But—
Just as he was about to pull the trigger—
In that instant!
Inside the mobile command vehicle,
Xiao Ran watched the monitor, her face calm, as if everything was unfolding according to her “script.” She spoke into her communicator, issuing the final command:
“Zhao Yi.”
“Move.”
…
“Boom—!”
A thunderous crash!
The heavy teak door of the VIP lounge was smashed open by the National Security battering ram!
Zhao Yi led his assault team in, charging like tigers descending the mountain!
And almost simultaneously—
“Boom—!”
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Another, even more terrifying explosion!
The massive floor-to-ceiling window of the VIP lounge—made from three layers of hollow, bulletproof glass—was shattered by an unimaginable force from outside!
A mysterious squad clad in futuristic, all-black “Ghost” tactical suits—
Like gods descending from the heavens!
Burst through the broken window!
Their target was not the people—
But the painting!
…
In that moment, the VIP lounge became a blood-soaked “meat grinder”!
Our National Security team!
Anderson’s “cleaners”!
The mysterious “Ghost” squad!
Three factions, in that cramped, sealed space, launched into a brutal, chaotic battle—
A full-scale melee!
…
Inside the command vehicle.
Lin Feng watched the monitor, seeing the scene spiral into chaos—a spectacle worthy of a Hollywood war film. A cold, controlling smile curled at his lips.
Xiao Ran slowly raised her communicator, connecting to the channel of Group C’s “cleaners,” who had been lurking in the back corridors.
Her voice was soft, yet it echoed like the whisper of the devil.
“Prepare to enter and clean up…”
“…The net is closing.”
Qin Feng said nothing more, obeying orders as he turned and stepped into the inner room, occasionally sighing and shaking his head.
Far away, in the central region of the continent, the dark Kakarot was furious. The two teams he sent out had yet to return, and he sensed that they were already dead. For him, if he had sent them out in the usual way, they would have returned by now.
She wanted to call for backup, but found there was no signal in the area—likely a jamming device had been deployed, with only their specialized equipment functioning.
Leaving the Mirrored Inn and arriving at the stables, Lü Bu led a black horse out and accompanied Xiulin to the horse market, where they purchased a snow-white, cloud-like handsome steed before heading out of the city.
From that time on, Yang City built eight-meter-high walls encircling it, leaving only two gates at the ends of the cement roads, fitted with thick iron doors.
But at that moment, Leona’s brows furrowed: “Taking down the oil merchant Jamal is easy, but Oka is a troublesome enemy. ‘Oka the Demon’—his swordsmanship strikes fear in criminals. Oka is usually surrounded by his men and rarely alone.”
Two hundred breaths passed quietly. The group searched the area thoroughly, but still found no way to open the stone gate.
Mu Xi smiled gently, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. She never expected her sister to fall for this man, but now, looking at Luo Chen, she found nothing admirable in him. The rescue of the Mu Group was thanks to Bai Ke.
“Wow!” Jade leaped onto Yang Tian, hugging him tightly. She didn’t care how much she’d won—only that it was a lot.
“Divine Lord, may I ask, whose bride was that wedding procession just now?” He stopped, polite as ever.
“Don’t worry. The vows we make on the grasslands are kept—at least more than you people of the Central Plains.” Hu Yue followed the Qin scouts into the darkness to find her trusted clansmen.
Unlike true deities, I don’t recruit followers nor need to absorb faith.
Thanks to the magic, these people couldn’t see the fake dragon, so they fought desperately.
After Li Zhi finished speaking, he could only lower his head and smile bitterly, silent for a long time before looking up and speaking slowly.
“Sorry, I just remembered something.” Facing Ouyang Che’s concerned gaze, Li Zhi smiled to show he was fine, then raised his glass in a toast.
Xie Ziyu, raised in luxury, was far more delicate than Su Xun. Her lips, bitten so hard, swelled and split, which was oddly satisfying.
If all this was done just to frame me, they succeeded. But if it was meant to trap Xia Haoyu—does he even know?
Da Guang stepped back two paces, rubbing his fists and wrists. Clearly, Chen Xudong’s punch had hurt him.
After losing more than 400,000 troops in the Battle of Changping, how did Zhao become a major eastern power in less than ten years?
“So, the White Bone Demon who appeared before me wasn’t the one you arranged in advance?” Jia Zhengjin hurriedly asked.
Zhang Yan’s eyes flashed with malice. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of her collar, then bent over and leaned against Han Yichen, her lowered neckline revealing a hint of spring.
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