Chapter 33
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Chapter 33: A New Mission
“This is your mission target.” The Hermit Sister sent a photo to Mi Xiaoliu, who was sitting quietly beside Wei Shi, watching him play a game.
In the photo was a middle-aged man, overweight but standing tall in a suit, full of energy as he gave a speech under a canopy.
In stark contrast to his prosperous appearance, the workers standing below him in the scorching sun were drenched in sweat, their white tank tops soaked and turning semi-transparent against their skin.
This image had gone viral online last year, mocked as a “world-famous painting” due to the glaring contrast between class status and sun vs. shade. The Hermit Sister had expected Mi Xiaoliu to be surprised at being assigned such a well-known figure—but her expression didn’t change at all.
Slightly disappointing.
“Take a good look. This man is called Aiboge. He’s the boss of a mining company,” the Hermit Sister continued, pulling up intelligence from the organization’s network.
“Besides swimming and living in luxury, his greatest joy is forcing his workers to listen to his motivational speeches—delivered with a voice worse than my grandma after losing her dentures. He frequently withholds wages, has had three wives and five mistresses. Recently, he’s opened a small underground casino. Gambling, prostitution, drugs—he’s into all of it…”
“Get to the point,” Wei Shi said, turning his head after his game screen went black. He glared at Mi Xiaoliu.
You’re sitting next to me and messing with my performance!
Seeing the match was already lost, Wei Shi quit the game and started chatting with someone on his phone.
“The client is one of his rivals in the casino business. They’re asking us to assassinate him using the poison they’ve provided,” the Hermit Sister said, placing a bottle in front of Mi Xiaoliu.
On the bottle, two words were clearly printed: “Poison.”
“It’s from the infamous [Poison Brand]—a notorious product in the underworld. Colorless and tasteless, it causes death by cardiac arrest, completely untraceable by police forensic technology. Rumor has it that it was developed by the Third Fractal in Easterland.” Seeing that Mi Xiaoliu didn’t reach for it, the Hermit Sister simply grabbed her hand and placed the bottle in her palm.
“But it seems they don’t want anyone to suspect Aiboge died an unnatural death.”
Mi Xiaoliu studied the bottle in her hand.
It looked like the candy jar at Heli’s house. She wanted to eat it.
The Hermit Sister shrugged. “Honestly, plenty of people want him dead. The ‘Avengers of Justice’ (Tian Xing Dao) have had their eyes on him for a while. Even if he dies, there’ll be plenty of suspects. No idea why the client insists on making it look natural.”
“You’re famous now, you know that?” Wei Shi put down his phone. The screen showed a message labeled “BOSS.”
“If you could register a livestream account under Mysterious Black-Clad Figure, your follower count would blow up. Lucky kid—BOSS was very impressed that you managed to go head-to-head and gain the upper hand against a Level 4 ability user. From now on, your targets will be all sorts of scumbags. You just need to pretend you’re part of the ‘Avengers of Justice’ (Tian Xing Dao).”
Mi Xiaoliu looked confused at that middle part.
“They’re basically just a bunch of angsty kids who started an organization for fun in recent years, but they’ve grown fast,” the Hermit Sister added. “Yeying’s already had a bunch of rookies get sniped by them.”
“How much money?” Mi Xiaoliu asked.
“You little miser.” The Hermit Sister tapped her forehead. “The client is offering a bag of pure gold, and silver coins.”
“Master, that’s something worth a lot of money,” Sasha explained.
“Tomorrow night, he’ll be hosting a charity auction. It won’t interfere with your school schedule. The ‘Avengers of Justice’ (Tian Xing Dao) have already tried to assassinate him a few times. He’ll probably have not only his own bodyguards but maybe even some Fopoler agents there. Use your spatial ability to slip the poison into his stomach without anyone noticing, even in public.”
Wei Shi pressed his wide palm down on her head and stared into her with crimson eyes:
“Of course, just because you’re given the right to only kill scum doesn’t mean you’re a hero. Like I said, the moment you killed your first person—you became scum too.”
“Don’t scare her. She’s just an innocent mascot.” The Hermit Sister pulled the silent Mi Xiaoliu over and took out a wig, a dress, and some makeup.
—–
The Charity Auction Venue.
Anything labeled as charity naturally attracted the rich—or the socialite sons and daughters coming to see and be seen.
In this city, there were many people like Mi Xiaoliu who tried to keep daily food costs under 20 yuan. There were also many who never drove the same luxury car twice in one week. Every city has its extremes.
The venue was extravagantly decorated. Just unscrewing a lightbulb could probably fetch a decent price. If you didn’t know better, you’d think this was some kind of elite ball.
There were even two security cameras—something extremely rare and valuable in Fanzui City.
“Why do we have to protect this kind of guy? What are we, bodyguards?” one oddly-dressed ability cop complained.
“What do you mean ‘this kind of guy’?” another, wearing a gas mask, replied lazily.
Black uniform and gas mask—that was the standard outfit of special ability police in the old days. Later on, to avoid misidentifying teammates and causing friendly fire, uniforms were made optional.
Besides, if the change encouraged some hero worship and reduced the public’s hatred of ability users, all the better.
“Come on, you know what I mean. Lots of seniors say the money he’s got isn’t clean. I heard we even investigated him before but couldn’t pin anything on him. Who knows where this so-called charity money is really going?” The younger officer lowered his voice. “Who holds a charity event that looks like a dance party? Add music and they’d all be dancing.”
“The problem is, aside from cheating on his wives, we haven’t found any other dirt,” the gas-mask officer said, pulling over a chair to sit. “If there’s no evidence, he’s still a law-abiding citizen. We have no right to do anything to him. We can’t even say his money is dirty—that would be slander.”
“Why not just have the Salamander read his mind?” the younger cop muttered.
“That would be violating privacy,” the lazy officer replied. “Would a secretly recorded conversation be valid in court? If you spread rumors based on some unverified hearsay, and even we, the ones who are supposed to uphold order, believe it…”
“If it were the Avengers of Justice, they wouldn’t care about privacy,” the younger one grumbled.
“That’s exactly why the world would fall apart if you let a bunch of angry kids take the place of the police.” The older cop’s voice grew softer. “Watch him. Don’t let anyone get too close.”
He tilted his head, apparently trying to nap.
“He has so many bodyguards—does he even need us? We’d be better off patrolling the city…” The younger one suddenly pointed. “Hey, that guy looks suspicious. All in black. The seniors said Yeying members wore black too. Let’s keep an eye on him.”
The lazy officer replied, “Let’s watch the guy drinking water. Criminals drink water too.”
The young cop: “…”
