Hui Tian Ch55

Chapter 55

“Do you really think I’m a fool?” Shen Zhuo’ asked in confusion.

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St. Carter’s Forte.

This was a stretch of coastline sixty nautical miles from Purori Island, covered mostly by beaches and jungles. Deep beneath the ground hid the newly completed storage base of the International Supervision Office—a high-pressure, vacuum-sealed warehouse constructed from 15-meter-thick lead plates and explosion-proof alloy.

Five years ago, the moment the sudden evolution outbreak began, Shen Zhuo had lobbied various nations to immediately carry out a carpet-style sweep for the “Evolution Source,” preventing it from falling into the hands of the public and causing the number of Evolutionists to explode. After effectively controlling the global population of Evolutionists, Shen had dedicated himself to persuading national governments to destroy the source. Unsurprisingly, he hit a wall; no political leader would ever relinquish a strategic weapon comparable to a nuclear warhead. Ultimately, they could only reach an agreement: they would each build storage bases, storing these meteorites to the standard of a Tier-1 biochemical weapon.

The International Supervision Office held the largest global supply of the Evolution Source. Previously, it had been sealed on a nuclear submarine, but not long after, the submarine had repeatedly been on the verge of precision strikes by radical protectionist organizations due to issues like the frequent shedding of its acoustic-dampening outer coating.

It wasn’t until last year that the Supervision Office finally decided to change their storage method, choosing this location at St. Carter’s Forte to build the new high-pressure lead-canister vault.

It was already noon by the time Shen Zhuo finished the preliminary inspection with the base staff. He had intended to have a simple meal at the base cafeteria before continuing with the second part of the on-site survey in the afternoon, but a ground staff member hurried over from the underground elevator and said respectfully:

“Supervisor Shen, Director General Nielsen is here. He is waiting for you at the pier.”

Shen Zhuo, wearing a lab coat and safety goggles, frowned slightly: “What for?”

“He invites you to join him for lunch.”

Parked at the pier was a massive luxury yacht. Shen Zhuo was not unfamiliar with it—the Fenrir, owned by the International Supervision Office, reaching 344 feet in length and equipped with a helipad, capable of holding hundreds of people.

Nielsen had hosted several Christmas annual meetings on this yacht, but Shen Zhuo had no interest in leisure activities that didn’t serve a professional purpose and had never attended one. This was his first time aboard.

“You’ve worked hard. You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” Nielsen strode forward to meet him, shaking Shen Zhuo’s hand. His expression was perfect and filled with smiles, showing absolutely no trace of the lingering anomaly from the phone call that morning: “I specifically skipped out to come and see you. I have to head back to the awards ceremony after lunch.”

“…”

A slight trace of suspicion flickered through Shen Zhuo’s mind, but with guards nearby, it wasn’t the time to speak. He smiled and shook Nielsen’s hand: “You didn’t have to do that. Didn’t you have a meeting with that Roundtable bishop for a luncheon today?”

“I’ve rescheduled it for the afternoon.” Nielsen stood in the sea breeze, his ice-blue pupils focusing intensely on Shen Zhuo, as if he were the only person in the world worth seeing: “Even with so much business to attend to, I still wanted to make time to meet with you.”

Shen Zhuo understood Nielsen’s type perfectly—a profit-oriented male with a strong sense of possessiveness. When such a person discovers his territory is being seriously challenged by another S-level male, he would indeed take immediate action to assert his status. Moreover, the Roundtable bishop was a nobody to Nielsen; changing plans to come here for lunch was exactly the kind of thing Nielsen would do.

But for some reason, there was a faint, lingering sense of unease in Shen Zhuo’s subconscious.

It was an overly sensitive intuition developed from years of walking on high-risk tightropes.

“Come, I’ve prepared wine and the finest caviar.” Nielsen acted as if he didn’t notice Shen Zhuo’s hesitation, personally leading him toward the cabin: “I hope that after we finish our meal, we can both return to our work and the ceremony on time… After all, I’m afraid I’ll be working overtime until midnight tonight for that awards ceremony.”

Facing Nielsen’s self-deprecating expression, Shen Zhuo could only respond with a polite nod and a smile.

·

Nielsen hadn’t lied. He had indeed prepared thousands of dollars worth of wine, truffles, and white caviar. The yacht’s luxurious dining room was floored with snowy white marble, and a white rose stood in a crystal vase on the tablecloth.

Although both were born into ultra-wealthy families, Nielsen and Bai Sheng had vastly different personal habits.

While Bai Sheng enjoyed racing, watches, and investing in art, he was quite restrained in his personal refinements. He wouldn’t mind eating hot pot at a table with inspectors, letting oil drip onto his “five-dollar” (actually five-digit price) white T-shirt. When he played around with Chen Miao, he wouldn’t care if his million-dollar watch slammed heavily against a doorframe. He carefully cherished any gift anyone gave him, even if it were just a 200-yuan men’s wallet from an inspector. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Shui Ronghua was reading The Drama Song and sincerely praised the fact that the 15-yuan Taobao hairpin Shui Ronghua wore was truly tasteful.

Nielsen’s “high standards” were very conspicuous.

He would never be like Bai Sheng—casually delivering a truckload of milk tea and barbecue to the Supervision Office in a T-shirt and shorts. He would spend lavishly on a lunch, enjoying vintage Moët Millennium champagne on a 200-million-dollar yacht. Every detail was treated with great importance, conveying a clear, arrogant message: You are different to me, and you should be pleasantly surprised by this.

Shen Zhuo wasn’t particularly surprised; he only ate a little bread before putting down his knife and fork. Nielsen asked with concern: “Is the cuisine not to your liking?”

“No, it’s just very hot inside that sealed warehouse earlier,” Shen Zhuo replied politely, “The meal is arranged very well.”

“You seem a bit tired,” Nielsen paused, shifting the topic: “How did Mr. Bai send Antonio away last night?”

—Here it is.

He really couldn’t hold it in.

If it were earlier this morning, Shen Zhuo might have indulged himself out of malice, answering with a smile: “Mr. Bai is really rude; he hoisted Antonio up against the wall. I’ll go reprimand Mr. Bai when I get back to Shenhai”—that would likely have allowed him to witness Nielsen’s face change on the spot, which surely would have been spectacular.

But Shen Zhuo was a person who never let himself dwell in any state for too long.

He would allow himself to succumb to emotion after years of extreme suppression, but that was only for one night. When the sun rose the next day, he had to become the cold, rational, indestructible Shen Zhuo again. Nothing could fetter his extremely clear brain.

“Actually, it was nothing,” Shen Zhuo wiped his lips with a napkin and said flatly: “Mr. Bai and Antonio had a polite conversation. After the misunderstanding was cleared up, Antonio apologized and left.”

“A polite conversation?”

Shen Zhuo said: “Yes, just a misunderstanding. It wasn’t a big deal.”

Nielsen nodded, showing no reaction to this evasive answer, and suddenly said: “There’s one thing I’ve always wanted to ask you. What kind of person do you think this Mr. Bai is?”

“…” Shen Zhuo raised his eyebrows subtly.

He was silent for a moment, but it felt as if he were deep in thought before he finally opened his mouth: “He is a very special person.”

“Special?” Nielsen became interested: “In a positive or negative way?”

“For those who walk alone in the dead of night and hope for body warmth, it is positive. For those who must remain calm and keep a distance from heat, it should be negative,” Shen Zhuo said calmly. “However, one thing is certain.”

Nielsen pressed: “What?”

“The characteristics he possesses will make you realize, the moment you meet him, that it is very difficult to meet a second person like him in one lifetime.”

“…”

A slightly salty sea breeze drifted outside the window, and seagulls shrieked in the distance, flying toward the vast blue.

Shen Zhuo’s lips seemed to curve—a faint, peaceful smile.

“So whether it is positive or negative, it doesn’t have much meaning; at most, there is a little regret.”

Soothing music played in the spacious dining room, but the servers had already silently withdrawn, leaving only the two of them sitting across from each other. Nielsen remained silent for a long time before finally speaking:

“Shen Zhuo.”

Shen Zhuo nodded politely.

“Your evaluation of Mr. Bai seems very high, but it’s too abstract. I want a concrete answer.”

“…”

Nielsen stared at him, his voice low: “What exactly are your feelings for Mr. Bai?”

Shen Zhuo’s movements paused; he likely hadn’t expected Nielsen to tear through the paper so straightforwardly.

The ice-blue pupils opposite him did not blink, as if they wanted to nail Shen Zhuo to the table until they saw through every shred of thought in his brain.

“…” Shen Zhuo didn’t speak for more than ten seconds—not even a telepath in this world would necessarily be able to see what he was thinking—and then he suddenly let out a faint laugh.

“Forgive me, Director General.” Shen Zhuo stood up, looking down at Nielsen gently and politely: “Personal questions like this don’t seem appropriate to discuss during work hours.”

Nielsen was slightly moved, standing up to take his hand: “I’m sorry, I just…”

“Excuse me,” Shen Zhuo withdrew his hand slightly, his soft voice brooks no doubt: “I’m going to the restroom.”

Before Nielsen could react, he had already turned and walked toward the dining room entrance.

In that instant, Nielsen’s first reaction was to stop him, but Shen Zhuo controlled his movements and pace perfectly—calm, unhurried, appearing as if he only wanted to give them both a buffer zone.

—It’s fine, Nielsen steadied his heart.

There were Evolutionist guards at the door of the restroom, and everyone on the boat was his own trusted subordinate. A human couldn’t fly away even if they had wings.

He stopped his impulse to intercept Shen Zhuo. Just then, his secretary walked over very lightly from behind, holding a tiny white pill in his palm, and asked for instructions in a low voice:

“Director General?”

Nielsen’s gaze fell on the pill.

He had decided on this when he boarded the boat, but when it came time to make the real decision, for a few seconds, what flashed through his mind was the scene from three years ago, the first time he had met Shen Zhuo.

At that time, Shen Zhuo had just been rescued from extrajudicial torture, with nineteen bone fractures, his breath faint, pale, and disheveled, as if he could die at any moment; but his face was still stunningly beautiful, giving people a sense of fragility that could easily be gripped in one’s palm.

It took him three years to realize that it was merely wishful thinking.

Nielsen was silent for a moment before finally glancing at Shen Zhuo’s wine glass on the table and nodding slightly.

·

Shen Zhuo did not delay too long and quickly returned to the dining room from the restroom.

Having climbed to such heights, no one wore their joys and sorrows on their face all day. Shen Zhuo’s expression was natural and relaxed. At the very least, from his appearance, one couldn’t tell there had been any discord just moments ago. He greeted Nielsen with a nod and sat down again: “Director General.”

Nielsen looked at him, his voice somehow sounding a bit hoarse when he spoke:

” …Regarding that question just now, I am truly very sorry.”

Shen Zhuo answered appropriately: “It’s fine, just a misunderstanding.”

Nielsen gestured with his glass. Shen Zhuo moved his finger toward his glass of water, but seeing the champagne glass suspended in mid-air in front of him, he pulled his hand back and chose the wine glass instead, clinking it lightly against his.

“I hope to apologize for my impertinence earlier.” Nielsen stared intensely into Shen Zhuo’s eyes, repeating with added emphasis, and then took the initiative to tilt his head and drink a sip of wine.

“…”

Shen Zhuo looked down at the wine in his glass. The movement of his hand holding the glass seemed to freeze for an instant—though that could have been Nielsen’s own psychological projection.

For just that instant, Shen Zhuo raised his eyes and smiled slightly: “I accept your apology.”

Then, under Nielsen’s intense gaze, he raised his glass and took a sip, his neck and throat moving slightly.

In an instant, Nielsen’s feelings were indescribable—like a heavy object hanging in his heart had suddenly fallen, and yet also like being hoisted high into the air. The taste at the root of his tongue was complex and hard to describe.

Clink. With a soft sound, Shen Zhuo placed the champagne glass back on the table at his side:

“You still have to return to the ceremony venue. I don’t think I should delay your valuable time any longer.”

The beautiful music in the restaurant had stopped at some unknown point.

The air around them was very quiet. The yacht floated smoothly on the boundless sea. Looking out the window, the pier was already very small, reduced to almost nothing more than a blurry white dot.

“Actually, I have one more question,” Nielsen said suddenly, as if he hadn’t received the hint of departure in Shen Zhuo’s words.

Shen Zhuo raised an eyebrow.

Nielsen’s words were slow, each one enunciated clearly; his tone was even gentle: “How do you feel about me in your heart?”

Shen Zhuo showed no reaction at first. It was only after several seconds that an expression of shock, surprise, and confusion appeared on his face. It was impressive he could still control his tone: “…Forgive me, Director General, I don’t quite understand what you mean.”

Nielsen nodded, then stood up from across the dining table and pressed one hand onto the back of Shen Zhuo’s hand, which was resting on the tabletop:

“Are you willing to submit to me?”

Submit to me.

When an S-level says this to a human, it has only one meaning. There is no other way to interpret it.

Only then did Shen Zhuo seem to finally return to his senses, laughing absurdly as he stood up, trying to pull his hand back:

“Director General, you must have had too much to drink at noon. The ceremony staff are still waiting for you—”

His voice stopped abruptly, and his complexion shifted. Suddenly losing all strength, he slumped back into his seat, knocking over the champagne glass with a clatter.

The glass hit the ground and shattered into pieces. Shen Zhuo breathed rapidly, squeezing a few words through his clenched teeth: “What is going on?”

“Just a little pill to spice things up.”

Nielsen loosened his tie in a leisurely manner, left his seat, and walked to Shen Zhuo’s side. One hand slid through the back of his black hair and into his collar, his five fingers pressing loosely against the cold bone of the back of his neck:

“Actually, there was no need at all. I just hope you will be a little more cooperative in a moment so you don’t have to suffer as much…”

Shen Zhuo gritted his teeth, wanting to say something but appearing unable to speak.

” …I also hope you can feel a little bit of happiness.” Nielsen leaned over to whisper in his ear, promising: “I truly hope so.”

He knew that Shen Zhuo carried a vial of genetic interferon with him. Although, with the medicine now taking effect, he definitely wouldn’t have the strength to inject it, it was still an obstruction, so he reached into Shen Zhuo’s jacket pocket first to take out the syringe.

But at that moment, Shen Zhuo glanced up.

His eyes were cold, sharp, and clear. There wasn’t a trace of someone drugged. In a flash of lightning, squelch—

Nielsen’s left leg was sprayed with blood; without a second’s hesitation, Shen Zhuo had stabbed a lightning bolt straight through his thigh!

“You didn’t really think I was mentally challenged, did you?” Shen Zhuo frowned, skeptical.

He already injected the ability-interfering drug!

When? In the restroom?!

Only now did Nielsen realize the degree to which this person could calculate precisely. He reached out to grab him rapidly, but Shen Zhuo’s tactical proficiency was professional-grade. He slashed his hand, several terrifying lightning bolts cutting across the air, forcing even Nielsen to dodge.

Crash! With a thunderous sound of glass shattering, Shen Zhuo vaulted backward like a sharp arrow, smashing through the porthole!

“What’s going on?”

“Stop him!”

On the deck outside, the roars of Evolutionists sounded immediately, followed by the blaring of the ship’s alarm and the sound of rapid pursuit.

In the dining room, Nielsen lowered his head to glance at his pierced thigh, shaking his head and laughing to himself: “My mistake. I really did treat a leopard like a kitten.”

He took a breath, snap! He clicked his fingers, and the A-level ability “Cage of Logic” was activated, crashing down with a “whoosh” that shrouded the entire yacht.

“—Come out, Shen Zhuo! It’s useless no matter where you hide!”

The impact of the sound waves shattered all the portholes. Nielsen’s deep voice echoed throughout the ship, deafeningly loud in every direction.

“There is no one who can find this ship.” Nielsen paused, his voice turning low:

“I don’t want you to get hurt too much. Don’t force me to actually hurt you.”

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