Anything Can Be FBI

"You can't make me believe you that way," Yinsen said. "How did you find this place?"

"I've been by your side all day, Yinsen," the person outside the door said.

"Let me help you remember. At the Consulate, when the deputy consul asked what you thought of the play and you answered that it was boring, I remember you glanced around. So... think about it. The blond man at your nine o'clock, taking a glass of wine from a waiter's tray."

"And when your negotiations with Eugene fell through and you were mistaken for a spy, there was also a blond man passing by outside that aquarium café."

The person outside added, "If you still don't believe me..."

"No need." As the person outside spoke, those two scenes surfaced in Yinsen's mind. The flood of information at the time had been too overwhelming. He had remembered them, but never connected the two.

Only now, after it had been pointed out, did he realize that the two men had looked identical. They were the same person!

"Even so, how can you prove you aren't a CIA agent?" Yinsen asked.

"If I were a CIA agent, then after talking to you for this long, there would have been more than enough time to set up an inescapable net outside and storm in, Yinsen."

The person outside seemed speechless at Yinsen's suspicion. "Your looks may barely compare to mine, but your brain doesn't seem to be working very well?"

Yinsen's face darkened.

He had also realized just how idiotic his earlier question had been.

If the person outside really were a CIA agent, how could he possibly have handled someone practically confirmed to be a mole this way—knocking before coming in, then talking to him for so long?

Even if he wanted to make absolutely certain, this much time had been more than enough!

Yet even now, the other party had made no move. Instead, he stood outside the door and spoke to Yinsen with such patience. That alone proved he was almost certainly not a CIA agent.

After all, Yinsen had just blown up a safe house...

"I imagine you don't dare come over and open the door yourself, so I'll open it and come in. Is that all right?" the person outside asked.

Yinsen's expression turned serious. "Yes."

With that, Yinsen gripped his pistol, lowered himself into a half-crouch, and aimed at the door.

Although he could be sure the other party was not a CIA agent, Yinsen still had no idea who he was. He naturally had to remain on guard.

But they could not stay deadlocked with the other party outside forever. The two of them had to meet.

"Then I'm opening the door and coming in," the person outside said. "Watch the muzzle. Don't let it go off by accident."

With that, the lock turned with a click, and the door was slowly pushed open.

Yinsen stayed on full alert. While watching the door, he also guarded against other directions, preventing a diversionary attack.

However, nothing unexpected happened. The door was pushed fully open, and the visitor stepped into the room, revealing his face beneath the light.

Yinsen pointed his pistol straight at the newcomer and gestured with it. "Come in. Close the door."

"Of course." The blond man smiled, casually shut the door, then took off his coat. That action immediately made Yinsen tense. "Don't move!"

"Don't get worked up." The blond man paused and shook his head with a smile. "I'm not an enemy."

"How am I supposed to believe you?" Yinsen frowned. Although the blond man did not appear to intend to make a move, he was far too relaxed.

That struck Yinsen as strange, so he naturally did not dare lower his guard. And as he had said, the blond man had yet to provide any evidence that could earn Yinsen's trust.

"Through identification, of course." The blond man took several IDs and documents from his shoulder bag, placed them on the nearby table, and pushed them toward Yinsen on the other side. Pointing at them, he said, "Take a look?"

"IDs can be forged," Yinsen said. "I've done that sort of thing countless times."

"But intelligence may not be." The blond man chuckled. "Why not take a look first?"

Hearing that, Yinsen kept his guard up as he watched the blond man. With his other hand, he took a fruit knife from the side and used it to flip through the IDs. He did not dare touch them directly, worried there might be some trap. After every glance, he looked back at the blond man, remaining extremely vigilant.

The blond man did not move at all. His smile remained as he quietly watched Yinsen.

"Something's wrong." Unexpectedly, Yinsen had barely opened one ID and glanced at it before refusing to look further. He gripped his pistol with both hands and aimed it at the blond man. "You're lying to me! This ID isn't yours!"

The blond man: "..."

"What?" The blond man looked utterly bewildered. "It isn't mine? Are you joking?"

"I should be asking whether you're joking with me!" Yinsen said angrily. "Do you take me for blind? The person on that ID is an Asian man with black hair and yellow skin!"

The blond man: "..."

"Hmm... I seem to have forgotten something." The blond man looked somewhat embarrassed. "Sorry, let me remove my disguise."

With that, the blond man raised a hand, grabbed hold of the skin on his face, and tore it off with force!

The disguise mask tore right away, revealing his true face beneath.

Yinsen was not stunned by the sight. He had used one himself. It was a highly realistic mask; once worn, it looked completely real. It was also extremely thin and could transmit body heat. As long as it was not damaged, it was basically impossible to spot!

However, Yinsen became even more guarded.

"With equipment like that, you still say you aren't CIA? Where's Eugene? Have him come out!" Yinsen growled in a low voice.

"Why do you think I'm CIA?" Zhou Yi sighed and pointed at the ID. "Can't you see the IRS written on it?"

Yinsen: "..."

He lowered his gaze and quickly glanced at the ID again, but the look had been far too brief. Yinsen had no choice but to pick it up with one hand and hold it level with his gun barrel, comparing and examining it as he realized it really was an IRS ID!

As an elite CIA agent, Yinsen used countless ever-changing identities, including identities as employees of other American agencies.

For example, as everyone knew, anything could be FBI. Every American agent had an FBI agent ID on hand. Whenever necessary, they could become FBI agents at any time, whether it was to take the blame, take the blame, or take the blame!

FBI: "What the f***?!"

Therefore, Yinsen and the others could naturally distinguish genuine IDs from fake ones as well. And now, Yinsen discovered that this ID seemed to be... real?