Zhan Pingchuan raked a hand through the wildly tousled non-mainstream hairstyle he had slept on and draped his school jacket over one shoulder. Thanks to his hard, powerful deltoids, the jacket hung there without sliding off.
“At this hour the lines are probably insane. Ah… I’ll queue. What can I say? I’m a hardworking, capable, domestically gifted man devoted to love. A heart of gold always exposes itself so casually in front of others.”
He rambled while deliberately dragging out the final words, as though saying them specifically for Lance to hear.
Lance stood by the bathroom door. The loose gray-and-white short-sleeved shirt hung nearly to his thighs, and his slippers were neatly aligned together, making him look very obedient.
“Sorry to trouble you.”
His voice sounded so pleasant that Zhan Pingchuan felt as though he were hearing the dance movement of a symphony. With a little voice like that, forget lining up to buy food—if Lance asked him to roll the wrappers and make the shumai himself, he could immediately order five different rolling pins.
Who would have thought that someone like him—chased since childhood by families trying to arrange marriages, long since risen above such vulgar pleasures—would one day be blinded by beauty?
Zhan Pingchuan sauntered out of the room, lazily pulling the door closed behind him.
The very next second, his sleepy eyes opened fully. The lax, casual air vanished like the tide, replaced by the sharp vigilance of a hunting beast.
He rapidly put on the school jacket properly and pulled its hood over his head. Inside the university, the uniform was the best disguise.
Then he strode to a corner of the dormitory walkway, flicked his gaze left and right, and slipped into the laundry room.
Every floor of Xingzhou University’s dormitory building had a large laundry-and-water room with white tile flooring and painted walls. Inside were washing machines, dryers, clotheslines, drinking-water dispensers, and other necessities.
Usually almost no one came here except on weekends, when it became crowded. This floor housed only freshmen, and school had begun less than two days ago. There was barely any laundry yet.
Just as Zhan Pingchuan expected, the room was empty. Old dried watermarks stained the floor tiles, and a layer of white mineral scale coated the washing-machine inlet pipe.
Zhan Pingchuan had already studied the building carefully. There were no surveillance cameras inside the dormitory. This was thanks to Xingzhou University’s beloved law of the jungle. The school tacitly permitted and indulged any form of campus bullying, believing all incidents should be resolved by students themselves. If an adult could not even protect himself, he did not deserve to graduate from Xingzhou University.
Zhan Pingchuan shoved open the laundry-room window. Bracing one hand against the ledge, he tightened his waist and abdomen and easily vaulted onto the sill.
Crouching there, he looked down at the hard ground three stories below. One brow lifted slightly. Then, without hesitation, he jumped.
At the exact moment Zhan Pingchuan closed the dormitory door, the gentle obedient expression on Lance’s face sharpened into a cold, calculating smile. He stared at the door until the footsteps receded, grabbed his sneakers, and darted into the bathroom as swiftly as a cat.
Changing shoes and clothes took barely ten seconds. With one hand, he pushed open the small ventilation window. Hot, dry wind poured shamelessly into his lashes.
He waved away the dust, examined the weed-choked gravel path outside, then switched on the shower.
Water immediately poured down in a curtain, carrying the slightly astringent smell left by chlorine-dioxide filtration and soaking one of his sleeves.
He let the water splash onto the tile floor, locked the bathroom door from inside, then gripped the upper edge of the narrow window with both hands. His arms tensed sharply, lean white muscles standing out as he hauled his whole body upward.
Taking advantage of his slender build, flexible waist, and loose joints, he squeezed through the narrow gap.
Everything went smoothly except for the unavoidable moment when his hips got stuck. Some dust smeared across his trousers.
Lance landed without a sound and carefully avoided the university’s surveillance cameras along the way.
As expected, the enormous athletic field had been cleared to make things easier for the Blue Hub inspectors. Students were required to use the covered walkways between buildings to detour toward the cafeteria.
“Clown.”
Mad Clown rapidly arrived through an anchor and tossed Lance a long case. “Here. What are you planning now?”
“Leave no roots.” Lance flicked the clasps and opened the case for a glance.
VSSK. Suppressed sniper rifle. A 12.7mm round capable of penetrating heavy body armor, maximum effective range six hundred meters, fitted with an integrated large suppressor.
Mad Clown adjusted his top hat, lips curving into his standard painted smile. “Don’t forget, Bolas and Clova could be anyone entering the campus after four. The VSSK magazine holds only five rounds.”
“I know.” Lance slipped the cartridges into his pocket and was about to leave.
Mad Clown narrowed his eyes, stepped closer, and blocked his path. “Clova is A-rank. Don’t tell me you plan to call that thing out again. Your mind absolutely cannot take it.”
Lance lifted his eyes and gave him a push in the chest. “I’m not that stupid.”
At that same moment, a large passenger aircraft was slowly descending from eight thousand meters. Thick, soft clouds streamed past the windows like cotton gauze. The blazing sun high above cast ultraviolet light without restraint, heating the windshield until it burned.
Bolas lowered the window shade and closed his eyes to rest while he still could before landing.
Clova reclined her seat and tipped her head back lazily while a flight attendant massaged her temples.
“There were two assassination attempts at Gangtan Airport just now.”
Bolas kept his eyes closed. Expressionless and concise, he said, “Mm.”
Even through the heavy curtain, voices from ordinary economy passengers could be heard. Some questioned why the plane had suddenly changed course, while children kept crying in the background.
Clova continued, “Apparently they even blew up the plane. Both decoys died too. Good thing the director arranged for us to take this flight early.”
“Mm.”
“But… what if the Black Lantern Society has some unusual ability and comes to blow up this plane too?”
Bolas’s eyes snapped open.
Clova laughed. “I’m joking. This is a civilian flight. There are hundreds of ordinary people aboard. The greatest concealment is among the masses. There’s no better place to hide.”
Bolas finally turned his head and looked at her. His tone was flat. “You mean the Black Lantern Society wouldn’t harm civilians?”
Clova froze.
She had actually taken it for granted that using ordinary people as human shields was an excellent plan while simultaneously trusting, with absolute certainty, that the Black Lantern Society would not bomb a plane full of civilians.
At last the aircraft passed through the clouds and descended over Capital City. Dense ranks of concrete and steel came into view. The ring expressway wrapped around the entire city like an intricate network of blood vessels.
Clova’s concern proved unnecessary. After five hours in the air, the plane landed safely at Capital City Airport.
They picked up their luggage and altered their appearances quietly as they stood.
Mixed among ordinary travelers, they entered the jet bridge. Behind them, a flight attendant politely said, “Thank you for your cooperation. We hope to welcome you aboard this flight again.”
Bolas and Clova exchanged one glance. Then, as though they did not know each other, they separated. After passing airport security, they entered the underground parking garage and boarded two different cars.
More than a hundred travelers were collecting vehicles at the same time. People loaded bags and packages into trunks while complaining about the exhausting journey and Capital City’s dry heat. Nobody noticed two senior Blue Hub officials had ever stood among them.
The cars climbed onto an elevated roadway. After nearly half an hour, they finally reached Xingzhou University.
Teachers, university staff, employees’ relatives, members of the public attending activities, and scattered students moved in and out through the gates.
The university president had originally prepared an extremely grand welcoming ceremony, but Bolas had rejected it without mercy.
The culprit who abducted Ediv had probably already fled the university, but Bolas’s habitually rigorous personality made him cautious until the very last second.
He did not even need to stand at the athletic-field scene to reconstruct the voiceprints. As long as he remained within two hundred meters of the incident location, he could accomplish his purpose.
He did not need to tell Xingzhou University’s president what the extracted voiceprints contained either. Capturing the killer and eliminating the threat completely was Blue Hub business.
“Park in the lot closest to the athletic field,” Bolas ordered.
The driver acknowledged him, turned the vehicle, and headed toward the field.
Bolas closed his eyes and instinctively listened to the sounds around him.
Teachers complained about the curriculum. They believed the courses and examination material were seriously disconnected from reality and left students poorly prepared to apply to major guilds after graduation.
University employees complained that federal subsidies to Xingzhou had shrunk in recent years while benefits had worsened. If year-end bonuses did not increase, they intended to resign.
One staff relative shrieked, “Twenty yuan for half a kilo of potatoes? Is this a potato or gold? Why don’t you just rob people?”
The supermarket owner shouted back, “These are a Desert City variety! Look at the size! Look how full they are! Look at the starch content! Even Desert City Alphas grow taller and more handsome than coastal-city Alphas, let alone the potatoes! If you can’t afford good food, don’t eat it!”
Students discussed meaningless gossip. “What? An electric-eel Awakener electrocuted himself to death?”
“What? He died fighting an A-rank for his wife? Deserved it.”
Bolas frowned. Because of this ability, he inevitably heard enormous amounts of useless noise. Receiving and filtering it every day was mentally exhausting.
At that moment, however, a distinct click suddenly emerged from the clutter.
His exhaustion vanished. His pupils contracted sharply. Excitement shot through his head, and both fists clenched against his knees. A cold, triumphant light appeared in his eyes, like a venomous snake that had finally found the prey it had been tracking.
As a Blue Hub inspector, he knew that sound far too well. It was the sound of a suppressed sniper rifle being assembled.
He realized instantly that an executive of the Black Lantern Society was on campus right now.