Who the Hell Writes a Diary?

Before the trigger was fully pulled, the sound of air being cut filled the air.

A streak of silver light swirled and plunged into the crowd. By the time the five fully armed foreigners reacted, all five submachine guns had snapped in two.

Upon closer inspection, everyone saw a knife stuck about a meter in front of the woman—a Pig Butchering Knife.

The woman leaning against the wall, panting, stared wide-eyed. (⊙_⊙)?

"A generous gift of crabs! And my gun!"

A security guard stared at his half-broken gun barrel, his face turning green.

One dimwit even pulled the trigger, and the half-gun clicked shut, but nothing came out.

The captain, hastily drawing his pistol from his thigh, spun around, gun in hand, yelling, "Who's there?! Show yourself!"

Just as the two security guards at the back of the line were about to draw their pistols, they suddenly felt a sharp pain in the back of their heads.

Two powerful punches landed on the back of their heads, and with two thuds, the two idiots rolled their eyes and slammed their faces down on the ground.

A person slowly emerged from the shadows.

Wearing a black trench coat, hands in pockets.

The searchlight overhead shone directly on half of his face, creating a lighting effect comparable to a movie poster.

Having deliberately adjusted the angle, Zhou, standing at the dividing line of the lights, struck a pose, raising his hand with his five fingers spread wide.

"Sword, come! Cough... blade, come!"

The Pig Butchering Knife stuck in the ground emitted a clear "hum," then sprang up out of thin air and spun back into his palm.

"A knife... a knife that can fly!?" One of the security guards nearly popped his eyes out.

"Shut the fuck up! Who cares what kind of freak he is!"

The captain snapped out of his daze and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Fire! Take him down!"

Three guns spewed fire at the same time. Sing Sing stood still, twisting and dodging left and right, his trench coat hem swaying in the wind.

The bullets whizzed past his clothes without grazing him at all.

"Missed it, oh well, missed it again! Hehe~ (￣y▽￣)~"

"My God..." the security guard's hands trembled as he changed the magazine. "This is impossible! What are you?!"

"I'm your uncle, here to collect a debt."

After saying that, Sing Sing was already behind them, and he gently pressed his hand on the side of their necks. The two big men rolled their eyes and collapsed to the ground.

Of the five people, only the team leader is left.

The captain swallowed hard, tossed aside his empty gun, drew his tactical knife, and swiftly twirled it a few times, performing what he considered extremely intimidating knife flourishes, before assuming a professional hand-to-hand combat stance.

"Come on! Come on! You think I'm afraid of you, you son of a bitch!"

The captain's eyes were bloodshot, and he looked ready to fight Sing Sing to the death.

But as soon as he took one step, a sharp pain suddenly shot through his lower back.

The woman he had chased here somehow managed to sneak up behind the captain, taking advantage of Director Zhou's "mocking aura."

The short knife in her hand was completely embedded in his kidney. To ensure the treatment's effectiveness, she thoughtfully twisted it half a turn clockwise.

"Mamma Mia..."

"Pfft!"

As the woman deftly drew her knife, the captain's knees buckled, and he collapsed to his knees, thrashing about for a couple of moments before coming to a complete stop.

Director Zhou was stunned.

( ﾟДﾟ )

You stole my kill?!

Even after resolving the biggest problem, the woman remained vigilant.

She hunched over, lowering her center of gravity, and held her two swords in front of her chest, one in front of the other, staring intently at Sing Sing.

"Hey, hey, it's a misunderstanding! It's all a misunderstanding!"

Sing Sing raised his hands. "I'm on their side. How can you still stand there and talk like that?"

The woman didn't respond, but shifted half a step to the side, her eyes darting around as she searched for a way to leave.

"Which organization sent you? The Cleaners?"

"Cleaners?" Sing Sing almost laughed in exasperation. "What kind of eyesight do you have, lady? Look at my demeanor, my looks, my clothes! I'm a respectable businessman wherever I go, okay!"

"Really? Legitimate business people wandering around this godforsaken place in the middle of the night? Do you think I'm a three-year-old?"

"But weren't you chased around like a grandson in the middle of the night? Which of us is the indecent one?"

Sing Sing wasn't annoyed. He stretched out his right hand and rubbed his thumb against his index finger.

"Alright, let's get down to business. Let's settle the appearance fee for the act of bravery."

The woman was stunned, and asked uncertainly, "What?"

"Appearance fee!"

Sing Sing rubbed his fingers together again.

"Five men and five guns, that's a big order for you. But looking at your pathetic, penniless appearance... well, since we've met, I'll give you a 20% discount."

The woman stared at him for a long time, probably trying to figure out if he was out of his mind.

"If you don't have enough cash, that's fine too, bank transfer is also acceptable. I'm easy to talk to."

The woman fell silent.

Finally, she actually freed one hand and pulled two crumpled hundred-dollar bills from the blood-stained pocket of her jeans, crumpled them up, and tossed them over.

Sing Sing caught it steadily with two fingers and even checked the watermark under the light.

Real money! (✧∇✧)

That's great, this girl is reliable, she really gives money when asked!

Having received the money, Director Zhou, in a much better mood, finally took a closer look at the wealthy patron before him.

Blue hair, burgundy headband, wheat-colored face, a few fine scars on her left cheek, and a pair of bright blue eyes.

Etc...

Sing Sing touched his chin; this face looked so familiar.

Blue hair... red headband...

Where is it...?

A "ding" sounded in my head.

Old Jin! Wolverine!

A while ago, that old guy Logan was doing oral history documentation at the 749 Bureau.

I got so engrossed in building it that I even started keeping a diary for myself.

The handwriting looked like a dog sled from Northeast China, but the accompanying pictures were all very well done.

There's a page inside that shows a woman.

A man with blue hair, a red headband, and wearing a plaid shirt stood at the door of a small wooden cabin at the foot of the snow-capped mountain, with an old dog lying beside him.

The diary entry describes the two of them hunting, chopping wood, and repairing the roof in the mountains.

Logan's diary was so full of affection that it almost made Sing Sing throw up his dinner from the night before:

We chopped wood, hunted, and repaired the roof together. The dog was named Old Blue, and she was as beautiful as that snow-capped mountain...

After returning from Japan, Zhou made a special trip to see what he had written.

Sing Sing even laughed at him, saying it was cheesy for a man in his two-hundreds-years to keep a diary.

Now that I've compared them... wow!

This hand-drawn picture and the woman in front of me are not unrelated; they're practically identical!

"Silver Fox?" Sing Sing blurted out.

The moment those two words were uttered, the woman tensed up.

With a flash, the cool blade was already pressed against Sing Sing's neck.

"This name..." A murderous glint flashed in the woman's eyes, "Who told you that?"

Sing Sing didn't move, but in his mind he cursed Logan's ancestors for eighteen generations.

Who keeps a diary if they're a decent person?

Writing a diary is one thing, but adding pictures is another!

The accompanying images are one thing, but they're high-resolution hand-drawn illustrations!

Old Jin, this diary you wrote is basically a contact list of your ex-girlfriends!

Now look what's happened! The first page of his contacts is holding a knife to his throat!

Convex

Who keeps a diary if they're a decent person?