“Guess who I just saw?”
“Who?”
The man with the alloy jaw plopped down on a booth seat in the bar, his bear-like figure causing the four legs of the booth to bend slightly.
He mouthed a name to his friend.
His friend’s eyes lit up: “…Ning Lao’er1Euphemism for p*nis? That guy from ‘Haina’?”
The former chuckled, which was as good as an admission.
The background noise was deafening death metal music, forcing them to shout to be heard.
“Isn’t he supposed to be in charge of Chang’an District? What’s he doing here?”
The alloy-jawed man rubbed his nose: “Who knows.”
His friend said suggestively: “Maybe he has some special sideline.”
The alloy-jawed man laughed again: “Do I even need to say? Mercenary, mercenary, they’ll do any job as long as the price is right. Looking like that, he was born for this kind of work, wasn’t he?”
“Word is, he’s been thoroughly used?”
“Of course, his sugar daddy Fu is done with him. Who knows when it’ll be our turn?”
The two laughed lewdly for a while, their expressions especially obscene under the debauched atmosphere of the colorful lights.
After downing a cup of synthetic malt beer, the alloy-jawed man became bolder.
“Someday, when he’s washed up, after he’s been used up and kicked out of ‘Haina,’ I’ll have to get him for a night. That waist, that ass, it’s perfect. I almost—”
The man got more excited as he spoke, but it was too late when he noticed the uneasy expressions of his companions.
A cold prosthetic hand silently approached from the right, cupping his jaw.
The fingertips moved around his jaw, pinching his cheeks with the creaking of mechanical joints.
A cold, clear voice sounded in his right ear: “…You almost what?”
The alloy-jawed man went rigid, his eyes the only parts still moving.
He glimpsed a part of a human wrist on the other side of the booth, covered in dark blue Haina (henna) flower tattoos.
…It really was him.
The alloy-jawed man was a small-time underground boxer.
A wrist that thin, he could usually snap two of them with one hand.
But this was Ning Zhuo!
The alloy-jawed man felt as if a poisonous snake was coiled around his neck; a slight movement could mean death.
The voice behind him, clear amidst the death metal music, was chilling: “…I asked you, almost what?”
The man’s tongue tasted bitter and metallic, and his blood seemed to rush backward into his head.
Suddenly, his neck was pushed to the left.
The flash went off abruptly.
The identity ID code on the exposed right neck of the alloy-jawed man was captured perfectly.
The person behind him released his right hand: “You owe me a slap. I have something to do now, but later don’t forget to tell me what you almost did.”
He shook his wrist.
A photo of the alloy-jawed man’s ID code in high resolution popped up on the wrist device.
Ning Zhuo placed his hand on the man’s sweat-soaked shoulder and gently squeezed.
Contrary to his soothing gesture, his voice was chilling: “Don’t run. I know who you are.”
Ning Zhuo stepped away.
He really did have something to attend to.
A cheerful female voice came through the earpiece: “I’ll bet you an oyster omelet that he will run.”
“Let him run.” Ning Zhuo said, “I want him to remember this slap for a lifetime.”
The woman laughed heartily: “I’ve heard rumors about you and Fu since you were eighteen, and now you’re twenty-eight. I’m tired of them, why aren’t they?”
Ning Zhuo walked towards a hallway in the corner of the bar: “I have many enemies.”
The woman said: “Think about it; why do others’ enemies wish to tear them apart, while yours hope to see you destitute on the streets?”
Ning Zhuo said: “I’ve thought about it, and I think you want to die today.”
The woman laughed, speaking to someone nearby in her hometown dialect: “Weld the door shut, don’t let him in!”
At the corner of the hallway stood a man in black, a head taller than Ning Zhuo, casually leaning against the wall, playing a game, seemingly waiting for someone.
Ning Zhuo passed by him without incident; the man only barely nodded.
Coincidentally, a drunk who couldn’t find the restroom stumbled nearby. Seeing Ning Zhuo heading down the hallway, he followed, thinking Ning Zhuo could lead him to the restroom.
But before he could pass the man in black, two men quickly emerged from a side room.
The man in black gave them a look.
They each wrapped an arm around the drunk’s neck, and before he could react, they jovially escorted him away.
Soon, the drunk disappeared.
Ning Zhuo walked alone down a long hallway, themed in black and blue.
With the man in black standing guard, the temporarily controlled hallway was quiet and serene, starkly different from the noisy outside.
Ning Zhuo stopped in front of a private room door, confirmed the room number, and silently pushed the door open.
Inside, a refined man was watching the news on a large screen.
He was dressed in a suit, with a clean-shaven face and glasses, a B-level citizen or higher, working in an office job.
He had no body modifications, likely only having had the simplest brain-machine upgrades.
He probably usually wore a badge on his chest, but he had removed it to hide his true identity, leaving two unclear holes in his suit.
——So, this was the lapdog of a large corporation.
This was the first piece of information Ning Zhuo gathered.
When Ning Zhuo entered, the lapdog was focused on watching the “Justice Show” on the third channel.
In this era, the words “justice” and “show” naturally went together.
“Tonight is the night of justice!”
“Disfigured killer Raskin Devin will pay the price for r*ping and killing four girls and ruining seven beautiful faces!”
“One hour until the devil’s execution… no, 59 minutes and 56 seconds!”
“The following short clip will review the victims’ suffering.”
“Viewers under 18, those with weak psychological endurance, and related family members are advised to change the channel and open their home’s fresh air valves.”
“The world is still beautiful because the evildoer will soon face his deserved end—”
With a tense drumming, the faces of the victims appeared one by one.
The contrast between their youthful pasts and their now chemically scarred wounds reflected in the man’s glasses.
After seeing only two or three faces, he turned away in discomfort, noticing someone else in the room.
He was visibly startled, which amused Ning Zhuo.
After regaining his composure, the man coldly snorted at the hint of a smile on Ning Zhuo’s lips.
Ning Zhuo remained unmoved.
This was the typical look B-level citizens gave them.
Wary, indifferent, but often needing something.
Ning Zhuo was familiar with such complex and contradictory gazes, so he chose to ignore it.
He sat on a sofa three meters away from the man.
“Wait a moment.”
The man wiped the sweat from his nose with a handkerchief and pressed the call button on the table.
Soon, a slender woman walked in carrying a black box.
The hallway had been clean earlier, and the woman arrived quickly after being summoned, so she must have been waiting nearby.
Before Ning Zhuo entered, he roughly counted seventeen private rooms in the hallway.
The seemingly quiet rooms could each be hiding people—and more than one at that.
“Take off your communicator and wristband.” The man nodded towards the box and said, “This is a private conversation.”
This was the employer’s request, so Ning Zhuo complied.
But the man was still not reassured.
He quickly made another request: “Take off your right hand.”
Ning Zhuo was unfastening his wristband.
This time, he looked up seriously at the man.
At that moment, the screen next to them displayed the killer’s overly handsome face, coinciding with Ning Zhuo’s.
…This face was the kind that would make people make lewd comments about the victims.
This, of course, was a carefully chosen photo by Channel 3.
Later, social media would inevitably erupt into lengthy debates and mutual insults centered around this photo, bringing great ratings to the Justice Show.
The murderer’s eyes on the screen were as blue as a lake.
In reality, Ning Zhuo’s pupils were a pure, gem-like green.
Inside and out, both pairs of eyes looked at the man with little emotion, staring directly at him.
The man felt very uncomfortable. He wiped his dry forehead with a handkerchief and didn’t speak.
Based on his past negotiation experience, the man firmly believed that a show of strength was necessary to make these crude and low-intelligence mercenaries afraid, teaching them to “behave.”
So he repeated his request: “Take it off. Your hand.”
Ning Zhuo responded truthfully: “My prosthetic does not have communication or recording functions.”
The man shook his head noncommittally: “Technology is very advanced now.”
This was a rather unreasonable request.
In this era, where prosthetics and body modifications were prevalent, artificial organs had become commonplace.
If he had an artificial lung, would he be expected to perform a live extraction?
Though the other party was a client, Ning Zhuo, as the second-in-command of “Haina,” couldn’t compromise on certain things.
Ning Zhuo remained seated, saying, “Haina is professional.”
The man found this amusing and retorted sarcastically: “Professional? If you were so professional, how did you lose that hand?”
The room instantly fell silent.
The man thought he had rendered Ning Zhuo speechless, feeling he had won completely in terms of momentum. Just as he was about to leisurely reach for a drink, Ning Zhuo began to laugh.
He looked at the man’s right arm joint and, in a voice so soft it was chilling, said, “Do you want to know?”
“If you want to know, I’ll tell you.”
The man suddenly felt uneasy and cursed under his breath.
He had heard of Ning Zhuo’s infamous cyber-psychosis.
Unfortunately, Ning Zhuo’s reputation for beauty was even more widespread.
Even a B-level citizen like the man, who didn’t often deal with mercenaries, had heard that in the Yoshiwara district, a cool-looking boy who resembled Ning Zhuo was very popular among burly mercenaries. Every time, after receiving a large sum of money, he was left half-dead, becoming a salacious and lewd topic of conversation.
Since entering, Ning Zhuo had behaved normally without any outbursts, causing the man to almost forget that Ning Zhuo’s danger rating in their line of work was classified as S.
He swallowed hard.
After all, the man only wanted to intimidate Ning Zhuo, not to ruin the deal.
So he stiffly adopted a lenient demeanor, waving his hand: “Forget it then.”
The slender woman, carrying the communication equipment, elegantly walked out.
The man drank half a glass of whiskey at an undignified speed, easing the nervous dryness in his throat.
After half a glass, he regained his composure and demeanor.
The man said, “You can call me Rosen.”
He slid a car key across the table.
“Tonight at 12 o’clock sharp, go to the place 200 meters east of ‘Eight Hundred Miles Road’. There will be an ‘Iron Lady’ parked there. The goods have already been loaded. The car’s navigation is pre-programmed with the route. Follow it.”
“Eight Hundred Miles Road” was located in the Atber district, often referred to as the “rich area” or “upper town,” where the police corporation “White Shield” had its headquarters.
“Iron Lady” was the code name for a top-tier escort vehicle.
Ning Zhuo accepted the key and asked, “Bright cargo or dark cargo?”
“Rosen” replied, “Dark cargo.”
Ning Zhuo responded with an “oh.”
It meant he couldn’t inspect the goods, only responsible for the transport.
“The route.” Ning Zhuo said, “I need to anticipate possible situations on the way.”
“Rosen” hesitated for a moment, then only gave a place name.
The destination was near a fishing area currently in off-season, presumably the endpoint for the goods, with the specific route not disclosed.
Ning Zhuo asked, “How much time do I have for delivery?”
“Rosen”: “Two hours.”
“Impossible,” Ning Zhuo said decisively, “If I take a detour, there’s not enough time. If I don’t, I’ll definitely pass through Shan Feibai’s territory. He is…”
Ning Zhuo paused here, searching for an appropriate adjective.
“…troublesome.”
“…Shan Feibai?”
“Rosen” was quite surprised at Ning Zhuo’s familiarity with the roads, but hearing that name, he smirked slightly, as if hearing a brief joke.
“…Him.” “Rosen” said lightly, “Don’t worry about him.”
There was something strange in his tone.
But Ning Zhuo didn’t press further and quickly switched to another mission-related question.
Ning Zhuo: “Can I bring someone? Driving alone, it’s hard to handle unexpected situations.”
“Rosen” appreciated the straightforward pace of the conversation and elegantly sipped his drink: “No need. Just driving. Too many people would attract attention.”
Ning Zhuo glanced at the electronic clock in the private room.
It was already 10 p.m.
From the beginning, he had been asked to come alone for the task.
Even if he set off immediately, it would take him 1 hour and 40 minutes to reach “Eight Hundred Miles Road” on his motorcycle.
The “Haina” base was at least 3 hours’ drive from “Eight Hundred Miles Road,” making it impossible to call for backup in time.
This cute lapdog might not understand the process, but the people behind him had clearly planned everything meticulously.
They offered an irresistible price without giving any time to prepare…
After considering, Ning Zhuo nodded: “I can go alone.”
He asked, “Is there anything else?”
“Rosen” nodded approvingly.
One had to admit that Ning Zhuo was indeed very professional.
He never asked unnecessary questions, making things very efficient.
Satisfied with how things were progressing, “Rosen” picked up the remaining half of his drink and watched as Ning Zhuo walked out. He didn’t forget to “kindly” remind him: “The cargo is very precious. If anything happens, your life won’t be enough to compensate. Got it?”
Ning Zhuo stopped and turned back.
“Rosen” looked at him calmly.
Ning Zhuo gazed at his smug face and said, “The cargo is a person, isn’t it?”
“Rosen’s” facial muscles stiffened.
Seeing his reaction, Ning Zhuo nodded, “Oh, it’s a person.”
Ning Zhuo continued, “If you keep prattling about my work, I’ll kill that person, and say it was on your orders.”
Ning Zhuo raised his wrist and knocked on the back of his wrist bone as a reminder, “Mr. Rosen, I’m in a hurry. Is there anything else?”
_____
Author’s Note:
Some reading tips: 1. The first encounter between the top and bottom will have some forced elements; 2. The top appears in the third chapter.
In the author’s note, an irregularly updated section of the “Silver Hammer Daily” has been officially opened.
【On this day in history】
The Justice Show, a reality show broadcasted by Silver Hammer City Channel 3, premiered on September 30, 2213. It was co-produced by Justice TV, under Interest Entertainment Company, and the police organization “White Shield.” The show pioneered the live execution of heinous death row inmates.
