As night gradually deepened and the clamor of the city fell silent once more, only the low hum of servers remained. Fans spun furiously, while snow and neon embraced beyond the window.
Under the dim light, surveillance screens went dark one by one. Cold tea left a faint red ring on the white porcelain cup.
Ai Qing woke from her light sleep and opened her eyes.
She heard footsteps stop outside the door.
A gentle knock sounded.
But what was she supposed to say at a time like this?
Come in?
Or get lost?
For a moment, she felt lost. But soon, she found the best response in the practical lessons taught by her seniors in the workplace.
There was no need to waste effort considering proper phrasing.
She only needed to respond in the most straightforward way possible.
She chambered the pistol and pulled the trigger.
Blow the door—and the bastard behind it—to pieces!
As the echoes of gunfire gradually faded, scattered splinters fell to the floor. The shattered lock gave a groan and broke apart, and the limp door slowly swung open.
Revealing the figure behind it, riddled with bullet holes.
Huai Shi blankly raised a hand, dug a bullet out of his face, and tossed it to the floor. Then he picked another from his forehead.
Nine Numbered Curse Bullets: one between the brows, one in the triangle, one in the throat, three in the chest, and two more in his legs and groin... The overly enthusiastic greeting left him afraid to move.
He was not used to it.
Amid the silent and awkward staring, he pinched the bullet between his fingers and tentatively asked, "Have you eaten? Want me to get some late-night snacks?"
"Thank you, but I'm already full from the dog food. No need."