Looks Like I Learned Zigzag Shooting

Watching Xiao Miao and Cross disappear through the hotel entrance, Charon left his post in concern and found Winston sampling wine in the underground safe room.

"Sir, with all due respect, I'm afraid you just made the wrong decision."

Charon was referring to Winston defying the High Table's orders, accepting Cross's contract, and distributing it among his assassins.

Winston smiled. "Mr. Cross's contract was issued yesterday, and our assassins did not eliminate the target. So strictly speaking, what just happened was merely an extension of the previous contract—a reflection of the New York Continental Hotel's commitment to its clients. The High Table's order only came down today. You understand; everything remained within the rules."

Charon shook his head. "Sir, those people will never accept that kind of wordplay."

"Relax, Charon." Winston poured him a glass of whiskey. "As long as our actions are tied to the rules, there is room for negotiation. Besides... what investment comes without risk?"

"You think those two alone can overthrow the Brotherhood?"

Charon knew Cross was formidable, and he acknowledged Xiao Miao's abilities as well. But their enemy was the Brotherhood! An assassin organization that had endured for a thousand years. Even the High Table did not dare provoke them lightly.

Charon did not believe that merely two people could accomplish such an impossible task.

"Of course. I have faith in them, even though I also think the chances are slim."

Winston pushed the whiskey toward Charon. "Have a drink and relax. Don't be so tense. You needn't worry about the High Table holding me accountable. In fact, I've already spoken to another assassin organization. They agreed to help smooth things over for me."

After running the New York Continental Hotel for so many years, Winston had accumulated considerable connections. That was what gave him the confidence to play word games.

Charon frowned. "Other than the Brotherhood, I can't think of any assassin organization that would dare interfere in the High Table's affairs."

Winston gave a mysterious smile and slowly uttered three letters. "I.C.A.!"

"ICA?!" Charon was utterly stunned. This was the first time he had learned that his boss even had connections within the ICA!

ICA, short for the International Contract Agency.

The organization's name was not well-known in the assassin world, and many had never even heard of it. Yet it was actually a powerful organization jointly established by global arms dealers, political powerhouses, and Asian pornography tycoons.

The ICA maintained long-term secret cooperation with the CIA, FBI, MI6, NSA, Interpol, and the United Nations, carrying out extreme tasks that governments around the world found inconvenient to make public—counterterrorism, preventing nuclear proliferation, protecting political figures, assassinating warlords and high-ranking officials, and so on.

The Continental Hotel's backers, meanwhile, came from the oil industry and related sectors. The operating philosophy of its branches around the world focused on deep grassroots penetration, winning through the sheer number of gangs and assassins under its command in various countries.

The ICA was different. They specialized in dirty work. African warlords, ambitious schemers, anti-D factions, political posturers, even a nation's president—they would kill them all without hesitation.

The ICA's assassins were special as well. Every one of them had a shaved head, with a barcode on the back of it.

"So don't worry about me." Winston refilled his half-empty glass. "Let's turn our attention back to the Brotherhood. To be honest, I'm very much looking forward to Mr. Smith's performance."

"I'll bring you the latest intelligence as soon as possible." Charon nodded.

In an abandoned factory building somewhere, rust-covered doors were pushed open to either side with a harsh groan.

Cross led Xiao Miao into the factory and said he would train him in Curved-Line Shooting here.

Xiao Miao looked around and nodded to himself. The decrepit factory appeared to have been abandoned for a long time, but there was more to it than met the eye. After Cross's modifications, it was both soundproof and concealed—a good place to practice shooting.

Cross casually dragged a battered oil drum from the corner to use as a table. Then he opened a Syrian-style freezer, took a box of ice from beside a corpse, and poured himself a glass of iced water.

"Want some?"

Xiao Miao politely declined. "No, no."

He was afraid the corpse's stench had seeped into the ice, and he was also worried that Cross's water was not clean.

Cross had only been making polite conversation anyway. Hearing that, he casually shut the freezer door, gulped down half a glass of iced water, pulled out his pistol and spun it twice, then slapped it onto the oil drum.

"One week. I'll teach you for one week only. How much you learn will depend entirely on your talent. Understand?"

Xiao Miao nodded. This had been part of their agreement.

Cross continued, "To learn Curved-Line Shooting, you must first break through the limits of your mind. Abandon your old understanding and believe that you can do things ordinary people cannot."

Xiao Miao: "..."

That sounded like Morpheus training Neo!

When Xiao Miao remained silent, Cross continued, "I know you're confused, but that's the truth. I watched your battle at the Port of Paris. Without question, you have the talent to become a top-tier assassin, but you don't know how to develop it."

Xiao Miao cooperatively put on a puzzled expression. "So how should I develop it?"

"To develop that talent, you must first understand the principle behind it."

Cross picked up the remaining half-glass of iced water, took a sip, and continued. "When you fought at the Port of Paris, did you feel your heart beating rapidly? In reality, your heart rate can reach four hundred beats per minute, flooding your blood with adrenaline... blah blah... wabbi baboo... giving you physical abilities and perception far beyond ordinary people. Mastering Curved-Line Shooting then becomes a natural matter."

Xiao Miao nodded. That explanation sounded a little familiar. Not long ago, he had bullsh... ahem, used a similar excuse to fool someone else... twice.

"Fortunately, you can already enter that state to a preliminary degree, so I don't need to guide you from the beginning. Honestly, that step takes the most time. Watch carefully. Next, I'll demonstrate the techniques of Curved-Line Shooting."

The moment he finished speaking, Cross suddenly grabbed the pistol from the oil drum. His right arm swung in a full arc, and the sound of his violently pounding heartbeat reached Xiao Miao's ears.

Xiao Miao instantly felt chills run down his spine, every hair on his body standing on end. It was not that Cross harbored any ill intent toward him; it was simply his body's instinctive reaction to danger.

Bang!

The gunshot rang out. The bullet burst from the muzzle, tracing an obvious arc through the air, curving around an old mechanical arm and accurately striking a glass bottle behind it.

The bottle exploded, sending shards of glass flying everywhere.

"Did you see that clearly? There really isn't much technique to this move. The most important thing is entering the state instantly, then swinging the muzzle with all your strength. First make the bullet curve, then pursue accuracy."

Cross gave Xiao Miao an encouraging look. "Give it a try. If your talent is good enough, perhaps I can stop being a teacher tomorrow."

Xiao Miao drew his sidearm. His instincts told him this was not physical at all, but Cross had shattered his doubts with ironclad proof.

Maybe the rules of this world were different.

Then I'll give it a try!

Xiao Miao took a deep breath, his gaze turning sharp as a blade. His entire bearing underwent a complete transformation.

Cross nodded to himself. Very impressive presence.

Xiao Miao continuously recalled Cross's posture, locking his eyes on another glass bottle beyond the mechanical arm. He concentrated all his strength into his waist, abdomen, and arm. The next second, he violently swung the pistol and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

Clang, clang, squelch—

The bullet struck an old machine tool, ricocheted twice, then passed through Cross's thigh, tearing away a chunk of flesh.

"Ah!"

Cross screamed and collapsed to the ground, clutching his leg.

Xiao Miao lowered his head to stare at the gun in his hand, looking thoughtful. "Looks like I learned Zigzag Shooting. Is this what talent is...?"

"You learned my ass... son of a b—..."