CHAPTER 321: CHAPTER 304: CONFUSING AND MYSTERIOUS

The other end of the passage led to the parking lot, but he didn’t see the guard post. With five minutes left before the shift change, Xiao Lin abandoned the idea of entering from the front and turned toward the back garden.

Through the shadows of the trees, he leaped onto the wall. Hands gripping the wall rock firmly, he waited till the people above passed by, then pushed with his legs, landing on the rooftop. This was the only place from where he could traverse the courtyard to reach the parking lot, and the basement door was there.

Two tall men stood nearby, smoking and speaking in Arabic. Due to the distance, Xiao Lin couldn’t make out their words clearly. Just then, a sudden clutter of footsteps sounded beside him. He took a step back and hid underneath the spire. It was exactly 9 PM. After a brief conversation, a new set of footsteps moved away.

The night air became thin. Xiao Lin peeked outside cautiously; five people were spread across four corners, with another wandering around. Every gun was locked and loaded. Holding the thin blade in his hand, he progressed slowly along the edge. If he could help it, Xiao Lin didn’t want any conflict here.

Perhaps Xiao Lin was lucky; throughout the entire process, no one detected his presence. Sliding easily down to the ground, a truck drove past him and stopped on the open ground, obstructing his view.

There was approximately a fifteen-square-meter distance between where Xiao Lin landed and the basement. Searchlights intermittently scanned the area. He glanced upward and saw a hidden sentry under the spotlight. Had it not been for the truck passing by, he might have been riddled with bullets by now.

Several foreigners alighted from the truck, carrying the same kind of heavy weaponry, while a few Middle Eastern men unloaded large wooden crates and entered through that door. The searchlight swung to another side, allowing Xiao Lin to roll into a nearby bush, pressing his back against something hard. He halted his movements; the layout didn’t mark anything here. He slowly lowered his body, trying to stay as close to the ground as possible while moving sideways, tilting his head.

Behind him was a stone house built with cement, a dim room inside flickered with red light. This was an unmanned surveillance room. Xiao Lin couldn’t be sure if the camera recorded his trace just now. Most such surveillance rooms were mere fronts; the real surveillance was likely inside.

"Who’s there? Is some... um..."

A flash of silver, and the person slumped to the ground, leaving only a thin streak of blood where his arteries were cut. Dragging the body into the shrubbery, Xiao Lin darted to the truck’s side, pressing himself against its chassis.

"Hey! Where’s JOY?" The speaker had a heavy local accent, making it easy to discern.

"His hands were itching." The person answering sounded young, and his response was followed by an ambiguous laugh, both men seemingly understanding each other’s insinuations clearly.

The truck moved slightly, and Xiao Lin loosened his grip, dropping to the ground, not daring to move. The specially modified truck had a remarkably stable frame, quite explosion-proof. His head was almost pressed against the entire transmission of the low-hung chassis; a slight miscalculation could have resulted in losing half his head.

Once a safe distance from the truck was established, Xiao Lin rolled to the side along the ground. Just as he was about to stand up, two dark gun muzzles were already pointed right in front of him.

Following the barrels, Xiao Lin slowly rose. One person began frisking him, confused at not finding any weapons, pushed him. Xiao Lin feigned a fall forward, simultaneously bending down and without hesitation, made a rapid turn, transforming his fingers into claws aiming at the opponent. This foreigner wasn’t weak either; hesitating momentarily, he leaned back, narrowly avoiding Xiao Lin’s attack.

At this time, the searchlight gradually moved toward them. Xiao Lin raised his hand, two points of silver light shot out, and a cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

Another foreigner, seeing his companion fail, stepped forward intending to attack Xiao Lin’s head, only to unexpectedly find a short blade suddenly appearing in Xiao Lin’s hand, now embedded in his heart.

"Get in!" Xiao Lin stood in front of the man, indifferent to the corpse beneath him, while the sniper hidden in the shadows could no longer move his finger to pull the trigger.

As he passed the stairs, the sight brightened, faint conversations could be heard. Xiao Lin forcefully struck the foreigner’s neck, pushing him into the adjacent debris.

Above him was a ventilation shaft, and he climbed up.

Inside the room, a familiar figure caught Xiao Lin’s attention. If he wasn’t mistaken, the person sitting in the armchair with his back to him at that moment was called Moth. No one remembered his real name anymore, as he didn’t believe that ’like a moth to a flame’ meant self-destruction, hence adopting such a name to convey his arrogance and brutality.

He has a penchant for child molestation, orchestrated multiple bank and armored vehicle robberies, and escaped effortlessly, while also being the main suspect in a series of murders. He has been on Dragon Soul’s wanted list for a long time. His last crime was three years ago, when he hijacked an armored car and shot several security guards before disappearing without a trace. He was once a retired soldier serving in the special forces with extraordinary counter-recon abilities. He’s not someone easy to deal with.

Sitting across from him is a fat man, with a protruding belly and a face glistening with oil. A few loosely scattered henchmen sit nearby, without clearly showing which side they’re on, but it’s evident that these two have a longstanding connection; at least, for now, there’s no powder-keg tension in the air.

Beside the fat man is a Middle Eastern woman. She doesn’t veil her cheeks as per local customs; her beautiful eyes sparkle with a seductive glimmer as she keeps her gaze fixed on Moth, unconcerned by others’ views of the fat man’s occasional groping hands.

At this moment, someone enters and whispers a few words into Moth’s ear. Moth straightens his clothes, changes his posture, and after saying a few words in the local Arabic language, the woman nonchalantly stands up and leaves.

"Moth, what does this mean?" The fat man didn’t expect the woman he brought to leave like this, and it was a bit embarrassing for him.

"Since we are discussing business, having an unfamiliar woman present is not ideal." Moth didn’t care for the fat man’s obviously displeased tone. Although this fat man wasn’t particularly famous in the underworld, his employer was very mysterious and never stingy when it came to financial affairs—he was straightforward: "Once we’re done, I’ll call her back. You’re not afraid she’d fly away, are you? Even if she does, I’ll compensate you with a dozen."

"Got it!"

The fat man nodded, looking at the woman who had already walked out the door, shifting his focus to the table.

"This time the goods are worth two billion, there can’t be any mishaps. Are your channels secure?" Talking business, the fat man shifted his large behind, propped his fists on the table, squinted his eyes almost obscuring his pupils, occasionally swaying his hefty frame.

"Rest assured, this is Uncle Four’s territory, don’t you believe it?"

In the Middle East, the Uncle Four mentioned by Moth is an intimidating figure. Often, he sits from afar on his soft couch; with just a lift of his hand or a cough, one person’s fate can change or be decided. No one knows if he is male or female, and it doesn’t matter. People like him because he holds every kind of magical treasure that can satisfy your desires, and those hating him do so because those treasures can cost them their lives.

"Of course Uncle Four is trustworthy. But you must know that the previous batch, XX No. 1, although popular abroad, caused issues in Huaxia, resulting in several deaths. We don’t want this to happen again, caution is necessary!"

Sweat began to bead on the fat man’s forehead as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his forehead: "You must know that the scrutiny is tight there now; sales are poor, which is a loss for both you and me."

"So, does this mean you want to blame Uncle Four for this? You must know that this kind of trade is consensual. If something goes wrong, there’s no one to blame." Moth raised an eyebrow, lowered his right leg, leaned to the left, and supported his head with his left hand—a fringe slightly too long covering the scar on his forehead—then continued: "Of course, if you’re suspecting that Uncle Four’s goods are not genuine, it doesn’t matter; plenty of people are waiting. Their goods are much better and newer than yours."

"Brother Fei, what are you saying, we’ve been working together for so long, you still don’t know my, Lao Ma’s, personality." The fat man lit a cigarette, forced a smile, and sweat had already soaked his collar.

Even though it’s situated in a basement, the efficient ventilation system prevents air from stagnating, and paradoxically, the high-capacity fans speed up the air circulation.

"Lao Ma, you brought new brothers today!" Moth suddenly changed to an unrelated topic, glancing sideways at a group mingling with some brothers, spotting one person, about twenty-two or twenty-three years old, with a fresh-looking face. In their line of work, unfamiliar faces are the most feared, as they could be an undercover cop or someone sent by other gang organizations.

"A relative from back home, you know how poor it is in the mountains, just came out to follow me and earn a living." The fat man waved at the unfamiliar face: "Jun Zhe, come over and meet Brother Moth, he’s a top figure in the underworld."

"Brother Moth!" The person called Jun Zhe ran over, greeted, and then went back.

The fat man is lying, Xiao Lin is sure of it, and believes that someone as cunning as Moth must have sensed the same issue. A child from the mountains would have problems with the skin texture. Secondly, the fingertips are well-trimmed, showing good grooming habits; thirdly, though the clothes are plain, it’s mostly deliberate; this Jun Zhe’s identity is definitely more than just a hanger-on.

"Lao Ma, have you been ’heigh-ho-ing’ too much lately? You look like you’re suffering from kidney deficiency," Moth mocked, stealing a few glances at the person called Jun Zhe over the corner of his eye, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. (To be continued. If you like this work, feel free to visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote, your support is my biggest motivation.)