UE Ch39: Cooperation

Associate Professor Xue: “…Ah.”

He didn’t quite understand the mercenary system of addressing each other.

Ning Zhuo led Associate Professor Xue out the door, and unsurprisingly, the moment he turned, he ran into Shan Feibai at the entrance of the sealed chamber.

Associate Professor Xue, on the other hand, experienced déjà vu and was startled by Shan Feibai once again.

Ning Zhuo had long expected him to follow, so he had left the door slightly ajar.

He guided the lost and bewildered Associate Professor Xue into the laboratory and completed the anesthesia injection for him.

The rest of the procedure was left for Associate Professor Xue to handle personally.

With nothing else to do, Ning Zhuo strolled out.

Shan Feibai leaned against the outer wall. When he saw Ning Zhuo step out, a smirk appeared on his lips—one that would make anyone who saw it instantly annoyed.

After meeting with his subordinates, Shan Feibai had a few more supplies on him.

He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and took a leisurely drag.

Ning Zhuo didn’t say anything. He simply reached out, grabbed Shan Feibai’s hair, and forced him to turn his head 45 degrees to look at the No Smoking sign on the wall.

But upon seeing it, Shan Feibai remained utterly nonchalant. Instead, he casually offered the cigarette to Ning Zhuo. “I more or less understood what happened inside. It’s pretty disgusting. Take a few drags; suppress the nausea.”

Unless it was for social occasions, Ning Zhuo rarely smoked.

However, just now, he had thought of his father. His tongue carried a faint bitterness, and he did indeed need something external to adjust himself.

Lowering his eyelashes, he looked at the cigarette held to his lips—and broke his own rule just this once.

It wasn’t until he bit down on the filter and felt the lingering warmth on it that Ning Zhuo realized this cigarette had already been in Shan Feibai’s mouth.

He clenched the filter between his teeth, thought about it for a moment, and decided not to be overly sensitive about it.

Shan Feibai’s cigarettes weren’t harsh. The minty flavor carried a hint of crisp apple, cooling and smooth as it filled his lungs. It was clearly a specially modified blend.

And since Shan Feibai had smoked it first, Ning Zhuo wasn’t worried about him tampering with it.

The two former enemies—now master and pet—sat side by side, sharing the same cigarette.

Just as Ning Zhuo had predicted Shan Feibai would come, Shan Feibai had also guessed that Ning Zhuo would be here and had followed along on his own.

He had overheard most of the conversation between Ning Zhuo and Associate Professor Xue and already had a clear picture in his mind.

Bluntly, he commented, “Ning-ge, you’re too soft-hearted.”

Ning Zhuo looked at him through the drifting smoke. “If it were you, would you have killed him?”

Ning Zhuo understood that from a so-called ‘rational’ standpoint, Associate Professor Xue, who had gotten his revenge, should die.

From a justice-driven perspective, a person who takes a life is also a murderer and should accept punishment, facing death with composure.

From a utilitarian perspective, Associate Professor Xue, who had the skill to extract potassium chloride but had spent years in silent solitude searching for his daughter, would never raise any alarms if he were to quietly die somewhere in Silver Hammer. “White Shield” would likely pin the entire case on him and close it, never implicating Haina.

Even from a humanitarian point of view—rather than letting this fragile scholar live under the crushing weight of “I killed someone,” enduring continuous torment—it would be cleaner for him to die.

Even Associate Professor Xue himself had once believed he would never leave Haina alive.

But none of these perspectives were Ning Zhuo’s perspective.

Kim Charlemagne died because he was supposed to die on that day—and he had already lived far too many years past his due.

Moreover, he hadn’t died because of the crime of “killing Associate Professor Xue’s daughter.”

So why should the victim have to be punished for ensuring that a rap-ist and murderer like Raskin met a more miserable end when he was doomed to die anyway?

There was no such logic in this world.

Of course, killing was still killing.

Biologically speaking, Kim Charlemagne barely counted as human.

If Associate Professor Xue couldn’t bear the guilt of poisoning someone, he had plenty of opportunities to take his own life afterward.

Yet even now, he remained composed and well-mannered, his hair neatly groomed—without the slightest hint of someone about to die.

Because if he died, then there would no longer be anyone left in this world who remembered that little girl’s smile.

The person involved did not want to die, and Ning Zhuo did not want to kill. So the best solution for Ning Zhuo was to let him live—and live well.

If Shan Feibai dared to say, “It would be best if Associate Professor Xue died,” in front of him, Ning Zhuo would press the burning cigarette butt against his head and leave him with a scar as a warning.

Shan Feibai had no idea that his head was on the verge of a crisis.

Faced with Ning Zhuo’s question, he replied, “Of course, I wouldn’t kill him. But this arrangement is too unstable.”

He tilted his head and looked at Ning Zhuo. “I know the black market has a type of memory device. Its principle is to send controlled shock waves to a person’s frontal lobe without causing damage—basically, after using it, the user forgets a lot of things.”

Shan Feibai gestured with his hands. “For example, the guilt of killing, the details of the crime, and you, me… ‘Haina.’”

“Other than dead people, those who lose their memories are the hardest to get information from. No amount of probing, coercion, or threats will work—because they don’t even believe they’re criminals.”

The more he analyzed, the more animated he became. “And conveniently, Professor Xue has had surgery before. Due to the poor quality of anesthetics, losing a short-term memory segment post-operation is completely normal.”

Ning Zhuo handed the half-smoked cigarette back to him. “What if ‘White Shield’ hypnotizes him?”

Shan Feibai took it between his fingers and took a small drag. “Hypnosis requires voluntary cooperation. But speaking of which, what if ‘White Shield’ uses a polygraph on him instead? They have a lot of methods—any choice comes with risks.”

Ning Zhuo: “Polygraph results are only references, not evidence.”

Shan Feibai: “Isn’t hypnosis the same?”

Ning Zhuo lowered his gaze slightly, pondering for a moment. “I’ve never heard of such a device in the black market. You said it affects the frontal lobe?”

Shan Feibai nodded confidently. “Yep.”

Ning Zhuo immediately dismissed the idea. “If the frontal lobe is damaged, even if he doesn’t turn into an idiot, the erased memory wouldn’t be controllable. He might forget about the killing—or he might completely forget his daughter.”

Shan Feibai didn’t even blink. “Even better. He could forget the pain of losing his daughter too.”

Ning Zhuo blurted out, “He wouldn’t want that—”

The moment the words left his mouth, he realized something was wrong.

Unknowingly, he had been led by Shan Feibai into placing himself within a hypothetical scenario that didn’t even exist.

What memory device? What frontal lobe shocks?

How could a device that couldn’t precisely control which memories were erased actually exist?

He had made it sound so convincing!

Shan Feibai had been aiming for that exact moment of emotional involvement.

——Ning Zhuo had empathized and, without realizing it, made the decision for Associate Professor Xue, declaring “he wouldn’t want that” on his behalf.

So, in a way, Ning Zhuo and Associate Professor Xue were the same type of person.

What they cared about was the past. What they were trapped in was also the past.

Shan Feibai let out a long “Ohhhh.” Propping his chin up, he fixed his gaze on Ning Zhuo. “Ning-ge, you’re so empathetic… So, did you go through something similar to Professor Xue?”

Ning Zhuo’s eyes were an unusual shade of green, always carrying a watery shimmer.

Now, he stared straight at Shan Feibai, his tone turning cold. “Are you trying to dig into my past?”

Shan Feibai, naturally thick-skinned, wasn’t embarrassed at all. Instead, he admitted it openly. “Wanting to understand my accomplice—isn’t that normal?”

Ning Zhuo snatched the cigarette from his fingers, took the final drag, then crushed the ember between his left fingers.

Golden-red sparks scattered, blooming like miniature fireworks on his pale fingertips.

Shan Feibai tilted his head up slightly and slowly exhaled a swirl of smoke.

He was in a good mood.

He felt like he had just learned another layer of Ning Zhuo.

The two accomplices had exchanged words and tested each other—all while finishing an entire cigarette together.

But Ning Zhuo, who had momentarily been at a disadvantage, wasn’t particularly pleased.

He felt like he had been played by this little wolf pup.

Shan Feibai was too clever. He could spin lies the moment he opened his mouth.

And Ning Zhuo could already predict that if he scolded him for being too smart for his own good, Shan Feibai would only smile with that obnoxiously handsome face and say:

“Isn’t being smart a good thing? Ning-ge, are you unhappy?”

…Just thinking about it made his temper rise.

Sensing that Ning Zhuo’s expression was off, Shan Feibai quickly switched to flattery. “Ge, since such a machine doesn’t even exist, that means your plan is the best!”

Ning Zhuo gave no response.

There was no such thing as a flawless plan. No matter how thorough, unexpected variables would always exist. You never knew where a loophole might slip through.

Associate Professor Xue’s revenge plan had been perfect—but what about the next target?

Ning Zhuo knew that from the moment he struck a deal with Charlemagne, it meant a direct confrontation was inevitable. The variables and risks he faced had now skyrocketed. From here on out, nothing would go according to any kind of “plan.”

At times like this, someone like Shan Feibai—who was too cunning for his own good—was actually the most useful.

Ning Zhuo reminded him, “Don’t talk about me to your people.”

Shan Feibai’s response was unusually quick. “Then can I talk about you to ‘Haina’s’ people?”

Ning Zhuo hesitated for just a moment, and Shan Feibai’s eyes curved into a knowing smile. “Ah, so that means… I’m the only one who knows Ning-ge’s secret?”

Ning Zhuo: “…”

He seriously considered whether it would be better to silence this overly sharp-witted Shan Feibai once and for all.

After taking a moment to suppress the anger stirred up by Shan Feibai, Ning Zhuo ignored his teasing and instead changed the subject. “Did you manage to convince your ‘Panqiao’ to stay?”

Shan Feibai nodded lightly. “Mhm.”

Seeing him look like a peacock about to fan its tail in pride, Ning Zhuo skipped past the details of how he had persuaded “Panqiao.” “Good. Then be ready. Tonight, we send Associate Professor Xue away. Tomorrow, you’re coming with me.”

Shan Feibai: “Where are we going?”

Ning Zhuo: “To commit a crime. Then we wait to be arrested and sent to prison.”

Shan Feibai’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t question the reason behind “going to prison.” “We’re doing it tomorrow?”

Ning Zhuo: “Yes.”

Shan Feibai furrowed his brows, falling into thought.

Ning Zhuo observed his calculating expression without reacting.

He brushed the ash off his fingertips and casually poked a hole in Shan Feibai’s scheming. “Aren’t you confident that you can keep your ‘Panqiao’ in check? How about we make a bet? If we both leave, whichever side causes trouble first, that person loses.”

Shan Feibai immediately responded, “And the winner gets to make the loser do one thing?”

The two locked eyes, reaching an agreement within seconds.

Shan Feibai stretched out his hand. “So, what crime are we committing, my dear accomplice?”

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One hour later.

It was mealtime. “Haina” and “Panqiao” were both invited to the cafeteria—their first meal together as a newly merged mercenary group.

Most people on both sides had sour expressions. They sat on opposite ends of the cafeteria, drawing a sharp line between them, as if marking out a battlefield.

However, since both groups were large and neither was willing to back down, they inevitably crossed paths.

Following their leaders’ orders, they knew they couldn’t start a fight unless the other side made a move first.

But with years of bad blood between them, it was hard to suppress the itching desire to do something to the other side.

“Haina” and “Panqiao” together, not fighting, not cursing—so what else were they supposed to do?

They could only sit and wait, hoping the other side would lose control first. Because the moment someone spoke out of turn or made a move, they’d finally have an excuse to beat them to a pulp.

Just as tensions were at their peak, Ning Zhuo and Shan Feibai walked in—one after the other.

Kuang Hexuan, who had been holding back a belly full of anger, felt more at ease the moment he saw Shan Feibai. He eagerly picked up an empty tray and approached, just about to greet him. But as his gaze fell on their faces, his entire body froze awkwardly.

Shan Feibai remained composed, casually taking the tray from Kuang Hexuan’s hands. “Thanks, Kuang-ge—”

Before he could even finish, Ning Zhuo straightforwardly took the tray that was originally meant for Shan Feibai and walked off to get food for himself.

Shan Feibai didn’t mind the blatant robbery. With his hands in his pockets, he followed leisurely behind, leaving Kuang Hexuan standing there in stunned silence.

…Had he just seen things wrong?

Kuang Hexuan smoked often.

He could clearly smell that the cigarette scent on Shan Feibai and Ning Zhuo was exactly the same.

And to his knowledge, that particular brand of mint cigarettes was quite unique—it was called “Kiss.”

Not only did it have a long-lasting fragrance, but the cigarette filter contained a special substance. If someone held it between their lips for too long, it would leave a faint red tint—subtle, yet unmistakably similar to the hue left after a couple shared a kiss. That was how it got its name.

Yet earlier, their boss had specifically only taken one cigarette, claiming he just wanted to satisfy a craving!

Kuang Hexuan clenched his fists, his face filled with grief and indignation.

That damn rabbit Ning! Forcing good men into debauchery, taking things too far!

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Author’s Note:

Shan Feibai’s thousand-layered schemes (strikethrough) strategy for taking down his superior.mp4