Chapter Seventy-Two: Heart-Wrenching Sorrow

“Damn it! We’re going to be a laughingstock when we get back!” The captain of the Spades cursed as he watched the roaring vehicles behind him. He hadn’t come to China for the twenty million—such a sum was pocket change to him. He was here to prove himself.

Within the world of assassins, there was a strict taboo: foreigners were forbidden from accepting contracts in China. Only the Chinese could take on such jobs. If a foreigner dared to accept a target within China, not only would the authorities hunt you down, but the local assassin community would also come after you. Both the underworld and the law would beat you to a pulp.

Thus, China had always been forbidden ground for foreign assassins and mercenaries. The captain of the Spades refused to believe in such superstitions. Forbidden ground? To him, it was an absolute joke. So he made a bet that he could come here and complete a contract.

But it seemed the current situation left him no choice but to withdraw immediately. Without hesitation, he spun the steering wheel, darting into a narrow alley. When Lin Jian and his men blocked off the alley, they found only an abandoned car—its driver had long since vanished.

A competent assassin always familiarized himself with the surroundings before taking action. The captain of the Spades knew every street, every alleyway in the city center like the back of his hand. What appeared to be a dead end actually had a dog hole at the far end, bricked up but large enough for even an adult to crawl through—likely dug by a large stray. For an assassin, there was no such thing as dignity; survival and accomplishing the mission were paramount.

“Check every surveillance camera! I want that man found!” Lin Jian was furious that someone had escaped under his very nose. A shootout in the middle of the street—what a goddamned mess! If superiors started asking questions, not only would he be unable to handle it, even the chief would be in trouble. They had to catch the perpetrator—there was no room for failure.

“Slow down, we’ve lost them.” Qin Tian patted Nangong Xiaoe’s shoulder, signaling that she could ease up.

Nangong Xiaoe nodded slightly; she too had checked the rearview mirror and saw the coast was clear. But she knew someone like the captain of the Spades would never be so easily caught.

“Slow down!” Qin Tian frowned, realizing the car hadn’t decelerated at all.

“Brother Qinlei, I think the brakes are broken!” Nangong Xiaoe inhaled deeply, her face embarrassed.

“What?” Qin Tian’s eyes widened. Broken brakes?

“Yes, but that’s not the worst of it,” Nangong Xiaoe replied.

“What could possibly be worse than the brakes failing?” Qin Tian demanded.

“Well…the accelerator seems to be stuck. I’ve already let off the gas, but nothing’s happening,” Nangong Xiaoe said, stealing a glance at him.

Qin Tian’s lips twitched. No wonder the car hadn’t even slowed down—in fact, it was speeding up. Fortunately, it was only a little after five in the morning; the streets were deserted, save for a few sanitation workers and some young people who’d been out partying all night and were just now making their way home.

“Whoa! Street racers! They’ve gotta be doing at least 220 kilometers an hour! Awesome!” One young man rubbed his sleepy eyes. He’d spent the whole night gaming, and just as his excitement faded, this thrilling scene jolted him awake again. He considered heading back to the internet café for another round of dungeon raids.

“There’s a moat up ahead. We have no choice—let’s drive into the river,” Qin Tian said, pointing ahead.

At this speed, trying to slow down with obstacles would only end in a crash. The best option was to find a river and drive straight into it.

Nangong Xiaoe nodded, gripping the steering wheel tightly, not daring to make a single mistake.

“Brother Qinlei! This won’t work—the river’s too narrow! At this speed, we’ll slam right into the far bank!” Nangong Xiaoe cried as the river came into view.

“Are you that dense? Who says we have to go straight in? Let go of the wheel—I’ll handle it,” said Qin Tian.

“Oh, okay.” Nangong Xiaoe quickly released the steering wheel.

Ahead was a T-junction. Going straight would send them right into the river, but Qin Tian jerked the wheel sharply to the left, then gradually steered right, guiding the car onto the riverside pedestrian path.

The car crashed through countless wooden railings, shedding just enough speed before flipping sideways into the river.

Five minutes later.

“Cough—cough—Brother Qinlei, you’re so smart. Entering the river sideways—that way we didn’t smash into the far bank,” Nangong Xiaoe spluttered, soaked to the bone, coughing up mouthfuls of water.

Qin Tian stripped off his shirt, revealing a well-toned torso, wrung the garment dry, and put it back on.

By then, Lin Jian arrived with a large team. When he saw Qin Tian, he was taken aback.

“Qin Tian?” Lin Jian stared, surprised.

“That’s right. It’s a bit complicated,” Qin Tian replied awkwardly.

Inside Lin Jian’s office.

“Here, dry off. So, that man was an assassin? Tried to kill you, and you fought back? You grabbed the gun from him?” Lin Jian handed towels to both Qin Tian and Nangong Xiaoe, then questioned them.

“Yes, the assassin started at the Jiang family’s place and chased me all the way to Central Avenue,” Qin Tian nodded.

“So the killer’s target was definitely you, not the Jiang family? Was it sent by Tang Yiliu’s group?” Lin Jian racked his brain but couldn’t think of anyone else who would want Qin Tian dead. As far as he knew, only Tang Yiliu’s people held a grudge against him.

“Probably not. Might be some big shot I accidentally offended. The guy’s ruthless—he’s already sent three waves of assassins after me!” As he spoke, Qin Tian glanced at Nangong Xiaoe. Strictly speaking, counting the first deadly knife throw and Nangong Xiaoe herself, that made four waves of assassins.

“And her? Who is she?” Lin Jian asked, pointing to Nangong Xiaoe.

“She’s a distant cousin,” Qin Tian replied.

“A distant cousin? Out with you in the middle of the night, getting chased by an assassin?” Lin Jian eyed him suspiciously.

“Have you confirmed the killer’s identity?” Qin Tian quickly changed the subject, worried Nangong Xiaoe’s true identity might be exposed.

“He’s a foreigner. We’re still working on the specifics. But to come to China for a hit—he’s got guts. The higher-ups are furious about this,” Lin Jian said, eyeing Nangong Xiaoe doubtfully before looking away.

“If that’s all, we’ll head back to the Jiang family now?” Qin Tian said, rising to his feet.

“Go ahead. I need time to think this through.” Lin Jian waved them off.

After Qin Tian and Nangong Xiaoe had left, Lin Jian sighed. A gunfight on Central Avenue—what an appalling incident. The sniper he’d sent to protect Qin Tian and Jiang Tianxiang’s family had died heroically. The reports he had to write and the pressure he now faced were overwhelming. It was enough to drive a man mad.