Hui Tian Ch51

Chapter 51

Eastern Mysticism

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The beach bar was filled with laughter and chatter. The aroma of barbecue drifted through the air as tourists swayed and played to the melody, and the ocean waves rhythmically lapped against the snow-fine sand.

After eating some barbecue, Shen Zhuo stood by the shallows, looking out at the sea and enjoying the breeze. Some laughing locals jostled over to offer him a bottle of beer. He thanked them in Spanish, gave them half a pack of cigarettes in return, and politely declined their invitation to go for a drive.

“I recall there’s a rule prohibiting human Chief Supervisors from eating outside food, isn’t there?” a teasing voice sounded from behind.

“Unless it is under circumstances where the surroundings are ensured to be absolutely safe.” Shen Zhuo took a swig from the bottle and nodded in greeting. “Chief Supervisor Amatullah.”

Amatullah wore a vibrant, sheer wrap over a black swimsuit. She was already in her forties, but her consistent workouts kept her exceptionally energetic. She carried a stern, sharp aura, even though she appeared very relaxed right now: “—Ensured to be absolutely safe?”

She glanced around the noisy bar and teased, “Is it because of that S-Class boyfriend of yours?”

“We aren’t in that formal of a relationship,” Shen Zhuo said calmly. “He has his own matters to attend to.”

Intimate contact between adults but “not in that formal of a relationship”—Amatullah nodded with a knowing expression, raising an eyebrow. “Actually, I’ve always had a question.”

Shen Zhuo answered straightforwardly, “I have no relationship with the Director-General.”

“Oh, I know. Facing the big boss at work is already more than enough; having to face the big boss at night too would be nausea-inducing.” Amatullah shot a flirtatious wink at a reluctant-to-leave young waiter nearby, making a gesture that she’d look for him later tonight. Smiling, she said, “I just wanted to ask: if your political alliance with Nielsen is about to collapse, how should I go about winning the vote in your hand during the upcoming election?”

Shen Zhuo couldn’t help but laugh.

“It will be hard for you to win it, respected lady.” He turned his head to look at Amatullah, seemingly full of regret. “You are shrewd, rational, and rich in wisdom, destined to be an outstanding leader, and therefore not easily fooled. When the water is too clear, there are no fish. A fish like me would find it very difficult to survive in a pool that is too pristine.”

Amatullah pointedly replied, “Perhaps, if a fish’s appetite wasn’t so big, it could survive longer and more stably in a new pool…”

Shen Zhuo smiled and turned to her, “Perhaps I’m a piranha.”

Amatullah raised her eyebrows high, but before she could say anything, the roaring sound of engines rapidly approached from the distance.

Immediately after, several modified off-road vehicles were parked on the beach. About a dozen local men with unfriendly faces got out and entered the bar, each with a dagger at their waist, brazenly slinging submachine guns.

The leader was a young man of Latino appearance with a full-sleeve tattoo. He looked utterly ferocious. Right off the bat, he shoved the host at the door to the ground. The bar patrons, who had been singing and dancing, saw things turning ugly and hastily backed away.

Amatullah asked in surprise, “What’s this about?”

Shen Zhuo casually grabbed a bartender who was running out in a panic. He listened to the man babble in Spanish for a bit before waving him off, explaining concisely, “The local snakehead gang is here to collect protection money.”

The bar owner, likely accustomed to this group’s arrogance, nervously jogged out to hand over cash, only to be kicked to the ground by the tattooed Latino leader with a loud crash. Perhaps displeased with the amount of money or just in a bad mood, several of the goons casually kicked over tables, chairs, and liquor crates, knocking a waiter to the ground along with the drinks.

“?” Seeing them hurt people after extorting money—and especially knocking over the eye-pleasing waiter—Amatullah became displeased. “How is it that on a rare moment of free time I have to run into this? Is the local Supervisor dead?”

“#￥%*&!!” Several goons immediately followed the sound and walked toward the two of them, cursing under their breath while dishonestly reaching out to grope Amatullah.

But they couldn’t even touch her. It was as if their hands were blocked by an invisible barrier in mid-air. The female Supervisor simply smiled slightly and replied with perfect enunciation, “Fuck U.”

Shen Zhuo took a sip of beer, not wanting to get sucked into the terrifying vortex of the S-Class ability Wheel of the Almighty. He calmly took a few steps back, only to be blocked from behind in the next second.

The tattooed Latino leader walked up to him, saying something with an obscene smile. Although his accent was too thick to understand, it definitely wasn’t anything clean.

“…”

Shen Zhuo looked at him ambiguously, then gave a slight smile and tilted his head back to finish the last of his beer.

His tilted neck was slender and pale. The Latino man was clearly greatly encouraged by this smile. He immediately got excited and reached for the back of Shen Zhuo’s neck, intending to press Shen Zhuo’s head toward him.

The next second, the man only felt a flash of cold wind in front of him—

Smash!

Shen Zhuo forcefully smashed the beer bottle into his face. It was impossibly accurate, fast, and ruthless. The Latino man collapsed to the ground, his head bleeding profusely. Immediately after, Shen Zhuo pulled a gun from the small of his back. The amused smile in his eyes hadn’t even faded as he aimed the muzzle at the Latino man’s left knee:

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

A single bullet would have been enough to sever a normal human limb. Yet, Shen Zhuo stood over the bloody mess, firing shot after shot until the magazine was empty. The Latino man’s left leg was literally blasted into a pulp of mashed tomatoes!

Hysterical screams echoed across the beach. All the gang’s goons roared in shock, simultaneously raising their submachine guns and aiming them at Shen Zhuo.

In the next moment, bullets rained down from above—Rat-tat-tat-tat!

Muzzle flashes spat like a violent storm. When the gunfire ceased, Shen Zhuo stood flawlessly unharmed in his original spot, while all the gang goons were screaming and rolling on the ground, severed limbs scattered everywhere.

Above the crowd, on the second floor of the hotel, four Supervisorate snipers simultaneously and coldly holstered their rifles.

The local snakehead gang, which had been so arrogant just a moment ago, was instantly reduced to rivers of blood on the ground. It was impossible to even tell if their Latino leader was dead or alive.

The surroundings fell silent for a second, followed immediately by:

“Ahhhhhhh—!!”

Shen Zhuo calmly swapped out his magazine, gave Amatullah a polite little smile, and replied, “Which is why I ensure my surroundings are absolutely safe.”

“…” Amatullah looked at this elegant, handsome Easterner, her brows furrowing slightly.

She was an S-Class Evolutionist; she wouldn’t make a fuss over guns and bullets. But Shen Zhuo’s shooting style just now was clearly different from a normal person’s—it was blatant overkill.

And he had absolutely no intention of hiding this bloody inclination of his.

For a human who was overly beautiful and even somewhat delicate to successfully break into the ranks of the Top Ten Chief Supervisors Council—a place filled with fierce, alpha-like predators—he truly was a blood-drinking, flesh-eating piranha.

Just then, the sound of speeding cars approached from afar. Over a dozen Jeeps screeched to a halt at the bar’s entrance. The lead vehicle hadn’t even fully stopped before a furious string of curses erupted from inside: “%@#￥*——”

Shen Zhuo let out a soft “ah” and couldn’t help but laugh. “No wonder the local Supervisor didn’t dare to intervene.”

Amatullah looked closely.

The car door swung open, and a very lean, athletic Hispanic man rushed out. His usually familiar face was currently flushed with exasperation. He bolted forward and, without a word, delivered a vicious kick to the tattooed man with the severed left leg, nearly sending his soul to the afterlife.

“I told you to stop being a disgraceful good-for-nothing #&￥%*&!!…”

He cursed for several solid minutes. After venting his anger on the gang underlings rolling on the floor, he angrily rolled up his sleeve. On the back of his hand was a bright red “S”.

Then he turned to Shen Zhuo and Amatullah, squeezing out an ashen smile:

“My two dear colleagues, may I take the liberty of asking what capital offense my worthless younger brother committed to be beaten like this?”

“Oh—” Shen Zhuo covered his mouth with one hand, looking surprised yet polite. “Long time no see. If it isn’t Chief Supervisor Antonio?”

Amatullah shot him a glance, thinking to herself that his acting was entirely too perfunctory. Just last week, Antonio had voted against Shenhai’s financial budget, and the two had engaged in a war of words at the General Administration for half an hour. If it hadn’t been a virtual projection meeting, they probably would have broken out into a physical fight right then and there.

—Antonio, ranked fourth among the Top Ten Chief Supervisors globally, was most criticized for being born into a local gang family.

News about his origins was actually quite common, but he personally didn’t have much of a gangster vibe. Perhaps because people tend to emphasize what they lack, Antonio usually paid great attention to his demeanor. He had a bit of a suave, yuppie air about him, and liked to flaunt his pursuit of literature, etiquette, and theater… Of course, with the exception of the current situation where he was losing all face, any thought of literature and etiquette went out the window.

“Oh—I’m actually not quite sure.” Amatullah also covered her mouth with one hand, looking around with regret. “What a shocking tragedy. I only know that these people had a minor conflict with the bar, and then your brother had some sort of misunderstanding with Supervisor Shen. I think that’s what happened.”

“…”

Antonio took a deep breath and turned to Shen Zhuo. “May I ask exactly what kind of misunderstanding led to this tragedy?”

Shen Zhuo said sincerely, “Since it was a misunderstanding, there is no need to bring it up again. Let’s just let it pass.”

Let it pass, my ass! Antonio almost couldn’t control himself from cursing out loud on the spot, squeezing every word through gritted teeth: “Even if it’s a misunderstanding, we can’t just casually let it go. Please allow me to invite Supervisor Shen to our home as a guest. My family hopes to clear up this misunderstanding with you one-on-one. Is that alright?”

Had it been any other time, he wouldn’t be this furious, since Shen Zhuo was a Chief Supervisor of the same rank as him. But the crux of the matter was that Shen Zhuo was merely human.

A human had publicly crippled his brother’s leg, and in such a cruel and bloody manner to boot. Antonio’s first reaction was that he had to reclaim his pride today, immediately. If he backed down even an inch, this monumental humiliation suffered in plain sight would never be lived down. Not only would his reputation as an S-Class be swept away, but he also wouldn’t be able to hold his head high in his hometown for years to come.

“Ah, really?” Shen Zhuo seemed slightly innocent and confused. “Why?”

A distinct crack! sounded from the roots of Antonio’s teeth as he gritted them, repeating word by word: “—Because he is my younger brother! Same father! Blood brother!!”

“Oh,” Shen Zhuo finally seemed to realize something. The corners of his lips curved up, and he reached out to pat Antonio’s shoulder. “It’s just a brother. Have your esteemed father produce another one.”

“You…”

Shen Zhuo slightly tilted his head. His curled lips were right by Antonio’s ear, a distance that seemed overly intimate to outsiders, as his smiling voice sounded clearly: “If your dad can’t produce one, you could always do it yourself.”

It was a venomous provocation, yet delivered in such a soft posture that anyone’s heart would skip a beat.

The two were too close. Antonio subconsciously held his breath, silently recited Eastern Mysticism to himself three times on a loop, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He let out a slightly flustered scoff:

“Don’t think you can fool me like this, you…”

Just at that moment, a massive force suddenly struck from behind Shen Zhuo, grabbing the back of his neck and shoulder with one hand. It forced him to stumble half a step backward, subsequently falling into a familiar embrace.

“Yo, everyone, what’re we doing?”

Bai Sheng’s arm was tightly wrapped around Shen Zhuo’s shoulders. The muscles in his arm were tensed to a rather terrifying degree, with all five fingers digging into the skin of the shoulder. Yet, his lazy tone still carried a smile as he teasingly looked Antonio up and down:

“Having a little colleague get-together party? Why didn’t you invite me?”

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