Assassination! All Sides Stirred!

"Coach Xu, are you in? I've come to check on Director Ling."

Feng Kuan stood outside the Villa, his voice coming through the Holographic Projection.

Of the three people who know the mission details—the curator, the Vice-Curator, and him—he's the only one who's come.

Is he really here to visit, or is he the mole?

Xu Jingming narrowed his eyes.

He had been Head Coach of Thunder Martial Hall's Elite Training Camp for two or three months now.

But he had barely interacted with Vice-Curator Feng Kuan.

"I've met him a few times. He seems decent enough, not pushy like Liu Shan and Gan Gui."

Ling Shuang spoke, her voice clear and pleasant.

"Coming to visit is the sort of thing he'd do. Of course, that doesn't rule out him being the mole."

"Right. I'll get the door. Sister Shuang, get ready."

Xu Jingming nodded and left the training room.

Ling Shuang flashed back to her bedroom, lay down, pulled the covers over herself, and closed her eyes.

Her rosy face instantly turned deathly pale. Her breathing grew so faint that she looked as if she were truly at death's door.

For a metahuman, this was easy.

All she had to do was control her heartbeat and slow her blood flow.

Even an ordinary Fourth-Order Metahuman could manage it, let alone Ling Shuang, an Eighth-Order Middle Position Grandmaster.

"Vice-Curator Feng, please come in."

Meanwhile, Xu Jingming opened the Villa door, his face now strained with worry and grief.

"Sorry for the trouble. I couldn't find an Eighth-Order healing metahuman."

"But I thought I'd come see how things stood. I might have an elixir on me that could help."

Feng Kuan spoke with a hint of apology.

"It's all right, Vice-Curator Feng."

"Eighth-Order healing metahumans are hard to find. It's kind