So in this new script, I really was nothing but a Tool Person?
Surrounded on all sides, Fu Qian let out a deep sigh.
Judging by their reaction, once they'd identified him as an assassin, they hadn't cared a bit about what he said. They'd only wanted to kill him.
If that was the case, there was no reason to stick around.
Fu Qian quickly made up his mind. He'd already gained plenty tonight; staying any longer would only escalate the conflict.
And so, in the next instant, his figure flashed as he leaped straight off the balcony.
Amid Grace's scream, Fu Qian vanished into the vast night.
"Don't worry."
In the enormous ballroom, a crowd stared toward the balcony as Collins spoke.
"We've memorized his face. He won't get away."
It really wasn't going to end that easily.
Fu Qian, hiding outside, heard Collins's words.
Clearly, they had no intention of letting this go. He wondered if that was part of the script, too.
But one thing was certain: from now on, there were dozens more people in town hunting him, and every one of them could hurt him.
Things sure got tense all of a sudden. But what does a group of people tracking a bald assassin have to do with me, a guy on vacation?
As Fu Qian thought, his features began to shift rapidly.
By the time he left the grounds, he'd already changed back to his original appearance.
There'd been plenty of useful information.
Though he couldn't yet be sure how this group had ended up like that, he could be almost certain they were involved in Herom's death.
On top of that, he'd learned a name—Knight.
That old gentleman who'd missed the banquet was definitely worth visiting when he had the time.
In fact,