CHAPTER 70: CHAPTER 68: [UNDERWORLD]

Chapter Sixty-Eight [Underground World]

A dozen or so minutes later.

Chen Nuo squatted next to the corpse, quickly searching the body.

This guy’s neck had been broken.

In his pocket were a car key, a map, and a hotel key card.

The hotel key card looked very rough, with the name of the hotel printed on it. Chen Nuo recognized it as a local budget chain hotel.

In 2001, a room cost 68 yuan a night, and long-term rentals could even get a 30% discount.

A single-strap travel bag lay on the ground.

Chen Nuo checked it: no weapons, only some simple tools for disassembly.

Chen Nuo spent a few minutes cleaning up the scene, then put the binoculars into the bag.

He slung the travel bag over his shoulder, hoisted the corpse, and walked out of the office.

He went down the stairs via the fire escape.

In the parking lot, using the assassin’s key, he found a very inconspicuous van.

He threw the body into the van, got into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and drove off.

At nine that night, Chen Nuo entered the hotel room.

He tossed the key card carelessly onto the floor and didn’t turn on the lights.

After laying the body on the bed, Chen Nuo began to carefully search the room.

No change of clothes, no typical luggage.

This was normal.

Assassins, after all, weren’t on vacation.

In a suitcase, there was a passport.

Name: Liu Chengnan.

Nationality: South Korea.

Age: Thirty-three.

After a careful look, Chen Nuo basically determined it was a fake.

The suitcase also contained a laptop—a slim model, rare for that era.

He continued to search.

When Chen Nuo found a memory drive, a peculiar light flickered in his eyes.

It was a black, metal-cased memory drive, with a laser-etched octopus design.

Even when killing the assassin who went by the false name Liu Chengnan, Chen Nuo’s expression hadn’t changed in the slightest.

But at this moment, in this dark room, holding this black-cased memory drive, staring at the octopus pattern on it...

Chen Nuo’s expression grew stranger than ever.

A full half a minute passed before he sighed softly.

Because he too had owned a memory drive with an octopus logo in his previous life.

Except his had been gold.

A strange smile touched Chen Nuo’s lips, tinged with faint mockery.

"It seems... everything has come full circle..."

Chen Yanluo stood in the darkness and sighed softly.

He booted up the laptop and plugged the memory drive in.

A simple browser interface appeared on the screen.

The interface was familiar to Chen Nuo.

The drive automatically loaded, logged into an account, and opened a strange website.

Even for 2001, viewed through the lens of that time rather than twenty years later, the website’s interface was extremely crude, even pitifully simplistic.

Aesthetically, from an artistic standpoint, it was a complete mess.

However, Chen Nuo knew that this seemingly primitive website boasted encryption technology that was absolutely top-tier for its time—and would remain so even twenty years later.

As for the ugly interface... Chen Nuo knew it was because the organization running the site was staffed by individuals with abysmal taste and a twisted sense of humor.

In the Underground World of twenty years later, the organization operating this website was infamous for three things:

First, their impeccable confidentiality. There was no record of them ever leaking client information or data.

Second, their power. Once, Fox had stolen a Black Level memory drive client and tried to hack their website—purely out of curiosity. He was quickly discovered and counterattacked.

Chen Nuo didn’t understand the technicalities, but according to Fox, their opponents were highly skilled and likely had a formidable tech team.

Of course, this power wasn’t just technical.

Soon after, the site operators approached Chen Yanluo and his companions. Several of their experts engaged Chen Yanluo’s group in a few brutal fights, which ended in a draw. Even though Chen Yanluo wasn’t at his peak strength back then, this clearly demonstrated the other side’s strength.

Eventually, the other party proposed a deal: they would pay Chen Yanluo ten million US dollars annually to act as their security consultant.

Well, it really meant he was a hired gun. Each year, they could call on Chen Yanluo to deal with one hostile potential threat.

If there were any.

If a year passed without incident, the ten million was essentially a gift.

Damn, those capitalists were so obscenely rich, no explanation needed.

Chen, the wage earner, inwardly shivered.

They also gifted Chen Yanluo a Gold Level account, contained on a gold-colored memory drive.

However, Chen Nuo rarely logged in with that drive, only using his main account to post major announcements occasionally.

Usually, he lurked and spied using a Black Level alternate account that Fox had acquired for him from who-knows-where.

Their third trait was their bizarre aesthetics. The website’s interface hadn’t changed in twenty years! Furthermore, this group had a strange obsession with octopuses.

Proof of this was a perpetually pinned request in the transaction area of their mysterious website: "Seeking exceptionally large octopuses! The bigger, the better! Generous payment offered!"

The website URL was encrypted; you couldn’t find it with a regular computer search.

The memory drive contained the browser program and the website login client.

"It really makes one nostalgic... for my past life," Chen Nuo smiled, deftly navigating to the website.

The page had only three sections.

One was the Personal Space.

Another was the Public Forum, an exchange area where account holders could post various commissions. The site administrators didn’t intervene or offer guarantees. If problems arose, they weren’t responsible—think of it as a black-market flea market.

And the third was the Official Transaction Area. Here, tasks were posted by the site acting as an official intermediary. Both client and contractor information were kept confidential by the site, and the transaction process was guaranteed by the site as the middleman—though the service fees were exorbitant!

The existence of both public and official areas often led to dramatic and darkly humorous incidents on the site.

For instance, Zhang San might post a task in the Public Forum (to save on intermediary fees), and Li Si accepts it. However, the site doesn’t intervene in the transaction. The two can exchange their preferred contact information via messages and handle the transaction details themselves.

But this often led to double-crosses.

For example, Zhang San’s task might not get done, with Li Si taking the money and running.

Or, Li Si might complete the task, but Zhang San delays payment or refuses to pay...

And if neither party could find the other, perhaps due to certain restrictions...

Then, things could get interesting.

Zhang San might then go to the Official Transaction Area and post a task through the site: "Find Li Si, the bastard who cheated me out of my commission fee, and kill him!"

Or Li Si might go to the Official Transaction Area and post: "Kill that unscrupulous client Zhang San who stiffed me on my pay! Cheating a working man out of his wages—he’s not even human!"

He first checked the Personal Space.

The message box was, naturally, empty, with no traces left behind.

Account Information:

ID: Blade458 (English)

Account Level: Black.

Chen Nuo sighed.

So unoriginal.

In the Underground World, assassins often liked to use weapons or tools for their IDs.

Pistols, blades, bayonets...

No creativity. Absolutely none.

Chen Nuo checked the task history; past records had been deleted.

Only one current task remained, marked "Incomplete."

Task Type: Assassination. (Official Transaction Certification)

Target: Jiang Yingzi (with basic target information)

Completion Criterion: Target dead.

Commission Time: 15 days (11 days remaining).

Reward: 500,000 US Dollars.

Task Level: D.

Task Status: Incomplete.

This "Incomplete" status could be clicked to change it.

Clicking it would bring up a new option: "Confirm Completion." Selecting this would prompt the system to automatically transfer the reward to this assassin’s personal account.

This was because the task had been posted through the site’s official intermediary service.

The money could be managed at any time via the Personal Space: withdrawn and transferred to a chosen secure account, with funds arriving quickly.

The client pre-deposited the reward with the site, which took a 30% service fee.

So... if one falsely confirmed completion without finishing the task, they could still receive the money immediately.

But the consequences were severe.

Anyone daring to defraud the site operators this way would face a miserable end.

After all, the website hired many "security consultants" at high salaries, didn’t they? Even Chen Yanluo himself was taking ten million US dollars a year in consultancy fees from them.

If some run-of-the-mill denizen of the Underground World dared such a thing, they could expect the site’s security consultants to come knocking to collect the debt.

Heaven knew how many "security consultants" the site operators kept on their payroll. In his past life, Chen Nuo suspected that all the site’s Gold Level clients were on the consultant payroll. That included himself, as well as "Wizard" and a few other top figures.

In any case, Chen Nuo had never heard of anyone daring to fraudulently claim task completion for money, not even up to 2021 in his past life.

Regarding Jiang Yingzi’s commission, one couldn’t see the client’s information; the client’s ID and other details were visible only to the site operators.

However...

The task still had 11 days remaining.

Moreover, official task rules stipulated that commissions were exclusive. Meaning, once this dead man, "Blade," had accepted the task, no one else could.

Therefore, at least until the task expired, the client couldn’t hire anyone else to kill Jiang Yingzi.

Hmm, 11 days left. That means Jiang Yingzi is absolutely safe for that period.

Chen Yanluo gave it some thought.

He’d keep this account as his alternate ID.

He opened the Personal Space and first changed the ID.

Blade? What kind of name is that! So unoriginal! No personality whatsoever!

He clicked to modify the ID.

The website offered four language options for IDs: Chinese, English, German, and Russian.

Essentially, the languages of the permanent UN Security Council members, minus French.

The reason was simple. In his previous life, Chen Nuo had gotten to know the website operator’s boss and learned of one of his quirks:

He hated Gauls.

Chen Nuo typed on the computer, entered the new ID, and then clicked "Confirm Modification."

The status in his Personal Space changed:

ID: Arsonist with a Heart.

Not bad, not bad. Much easier on the eyes! What a great name!

Chen Yanluo was in a great mood.

[A heads-up: this book will be released for sale on February 1st, meaning it will be available after midnight on Sunday.

To all you handsome, suave, beautiful, and generous readers:

Could I ask you to save your monthly passes for me in February? Please?

It’s a deal, okay? After midnight on Sunday, please leave your monthly passes for me~]