CHAPTER 657: CHAPTER 357:

At this moment, the banquet was coming to an end, and Li Dingjian’s face was flushed from drinking.

He was recounting amusing stories from Fang Cheng’s childhood in a half-drunken tone, making Zhou Xiumei and Wen Xin laugh incessantly.

Seeing Fang Cheng and Ma Donghe enter, Li Biyun couldn’t help but smile and shared another embarrassing story about her precious son.

Fang Cheng felt rather helpless, burying himself in finishing off the leftover dishes.

Wasting food, after all, is a great sin.

In the blink of an eye, it was almost nine o’clock.

Tomorrow, those who need to work will work, those who need to attend school will go to school, and Fang Cheng will also attend follow-up interviews.

The group did not linger any longer, tidied up, and got ready to leave.

The corridor of Wangjiang Building was covered with a thick, dark red carpet, silent to tread upon.

Famous paintings hung on the walls, and the warm yellow wall lights cast a luxurious splendor over everything.

"Hic—"

Ma Donghe hiccupped and patted his belly in satisfaction: "This meal was satisfying, haven’t enjoyed myself so much in a long time!"

This guy had clearly agreed not to drink before coming, as he was supposed to drive, but ended up drinking more than anyone else.

"That’s... "

Li Dingjian staggered slightly, responding vaguely, "Your uncle invited us... can it not be joyful?"

Fang Cheng stepped forward, steadily holding him up, his expression somewhat helpless.

This "uncle" drank so much he forgot to pay the bill, and Fang Cheng had to find an excuse to sneak out and settle it at the front desk himself.

Twelve hot dishes, several cold dishes, and desserts, plus drinks, cost nearly over eight thousand yuan.

Almost equivalent to the average citizen’s two-month salary.

If it weren’t for some recent extra earnings, he couldn’t afford it.

Li Biyun complained from the side:

"Ah Jian, your drinking capacity is so poor, you should drink less in the future, it’s also good for your health."

Zhou Xiumei held Wen Xin’s hand, quietly following Fang Cheng.

"The elevator is almost here!"

Ma Donghe walked briskly at the front, pressing the down button on the panel.

Ding.

With a soft sound, the elevator doors slid open to the sides.

Inside the car, there were already two men in dark jackets, standing at the two rear corners.

Ma Donghe glanced and walked in first.

Fang Cheng followed, holding Li Dingjian, and naturally stepped sideways, separating the passenger behind.

At the same time, he placed himself in a position where he could keep an eye on everyone, letting his mother, Zhou Xiumei, and Wen Xin stand in a safer, more forward area.

The elevator’s interior was lavishly decorated, its four walls mirrored in tea-colored glass reflecting everyone’s images.

"As expected of the most upscale hotel in East Capital, even the elevator is so spacious."

Ma Donghe remarked with admiration.

Fang Cheng smiled but unobtrusively scanned the reflection in the mirror.

In that instant, he detected something unusual.

Breathing, heartbeats.

The physiological response frequencies of the two jacket-wearing men were suppressed deliberately.

But in Fang Cheng’s perception, they still appeared somewhat rapid and heavy, revealing a kind of excitement and tension.

This unusual physiological response, though extremely slight, could not fool someone with superior Spirit Attributes.

Fang Cheng’s heart subtly stirred.

Through the mirrored reflection, he could clearly see the man behind him.

His head was lowered, the brim of his baseball cap pulled low, collar high, shoulders slightly hunched, a defensive posture of deliberately hiding himself.

With another glance from the corner of his eye, the one standing behind Ma Donghe was also lowering his head, seemingly avoiding the camera at the top of the elevator.

And at his waist, there was an unnatural bulge.

As a master of gun skills, Fang Cheng was all too familiar with the outline of weapons.

More crucially, the air was filled with a faint scent of blood.

Not fresh blood, but the stale scent that comes from long-term exposure to blood, deeply embedded into the fibers of clothing.

It’s a unique mark left by having killed many people.

The elevator was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning.

Yet the atmosphere instantly solidified in Fang Cheng’s heart.

All his muscles were already poised to strike.

If he were alone right now, he might not even care, easily brushing past the situation.

But the situation was entirely different now; besides his half-drunk uncle, his mother, Zhou Xiumei, and Wen Xin were present – people he absolutely could not allow to be harmed.

What do these assassins intend to do? Who is the target?

Fang Cheng did not know, but he had to extinguish all potential sparks before any change could occur.

Sizzle.

A faint electric current sound emerged, static noise from the earpiece as it connected to the signal.

Fang Cheng, through the reflection, saw the man in the baseball cap behind him subtly lifting his hand, fingers reaching into his collar, seemingly pressing the earpiece.

His lips moved slightly, speaking in a low voice:

"Received, we’re taking the elevator down."

Another voice also came through the earpiece.

Though barely audible, Fang Cheng heard it clearly.

The voice was cold and brief: "Target has arrived at the location, prepare to act."

The word "target" was like a flash of lightning, instantly enlightening Fang Cheng.

Keeping his demeanor unchanged, his mind raced, then he spoke, casually like chit-chat:

"Donghe, remember that night at the garbage disposal site, wrestling against those two guys who only knew dirty tricks?"

Ma Donghe paused for a moment, but when he saw Fang Cheng’s gaze, he immediately understood.

"Oh, those two bastards!"

He instantly adopted a bragging tone, loudly:

"How could I not remember, had them rubbing against the ground alone, crying for their dads and moms, what a sight!"

After these exchanges, the elevator fell silent again.

Only Li Dingjian’s drunken words and Li Biyun’s occasional low complaints remained.

On the display screen, the floor numbers moved steadily.

8...7...6...

Ding.

The elevator stopped at the sixth floor, and the doors slid open once more.

Outside, a young man in a suit and gold-rimmed glasses was pressing the open door button, nodding apologetically to those inside:

"Sorry, please wait a moment, our leader is coming over immediately."

Just as he finished speaking, a group of people came from the corridor.

Leading the group was a middle-aged man around fifty, slim, wearing black-framed glasses, his gaze calm and sharp, dressed in a dark administrative jacket, exuding composure.

Beside him were two alert-looking aides, clearly bodyguards.

In addition, there was an elderly man with gray hair and a ruddy complexion, with an elegant demeanor.

At this moment, he was walking closely beside the middle-aged man, quite respectfully.

The elder glanced at the elevator and frowned slightly:

"A bit crowded, Councilman Zhao, let’s wait for the next one."

The middle-aged man called "Councilman Zhao" nodded slightly, agreeing.

Just then!

Fang Cheng saw from the mirror, the two assassins inside the elevator flashed murderous glints in their eyes, hands on their sides quietly reaching for their waists!

The small elevator space was about to become a bloody Asura field!

"Ahem."

Fang Cheng’s eyes flickered, he lightly coughed.

This cough was the signal!

He moved, without any warning, his body shot out like a tightly drawn bow.

Twisting his waist sideways, his right hand became a trail of shadows, slashing like a knife edge precisely at the carotid artery of the assassin behind him.

The person didn’t even have time to groan, his eyes rolled back, and his body went limp.

Almost simultaneously, receiving the signal, Ma Donghe also moved.

He abruptly turned, like a bear, his arms like iron hoops, tightly hugging another assassin, preventing him from drawing his gun.

Then, using his hard forehead, he fiercely struck forward.

"Thud" a dull thump sounded, that assassin’s eyes also rolled back, fainting on the spot.

The whole process from Fang Cheng’s cough to the subduing of the two happened smoothly and swiftly, within a second.

The two experienced assassins didn’t even manage to draw their weapons and silently lost their combat efficacy.

Outside the elevator, people only saw the figures inside sway, then two men slumped weakly in Fang Cheng’s and Ma Donghe’s arms, the scene looking somewhat bizarre.

Ma Donghe held the unconscious assassin in one arm, his other hand vigorously patting his back.

Grinning at Councilman Zhao and the others amazed outside, he said:

"Sorry everyone! These two friends of mine had too much to drink and acted crazy, you better wait for the next one, I’m afraid they might puke on you."

He spoke boldly, but the cuddle stance appeared overly intimate, causing a strange feeling.

It wasn’t until then that Li Biyun and Zhou Xiumei realized what happened, puzzled by the strangers two men were "supporting," somewhat confused.

They didn’t remember when Fang Cheng and Ma Donghe gained two such friends.

Fang Cheng offered no explanation, simply calmly extended his hand, hugged the assassin he subdued, and pressed the close door button.

As the elevator doors slowly closed, outside, several watched with unsure expressions.