Life is Far More Absurd Than Fiction

Fengning City!

A prefecture-level city in Yuanhai Province. Following the country's great strides in development, it is a medium-sized city with relatively developed economy and high per capita consumption levels. Compared to large provincial capital cities, Fengning City lacks in population and area, and its development started a few years later.

A thriving city, burgeoning with prosperity.

The camera zoomed out to a three-story building. It was a slightly old apartment building, two streets away from the city's main road, right next to a wet market. The only greenery was the climbing ivy on the back wall.

Aijia Apartment!

The first floor was rented out as commercial spaces: a noodle shop, a spicy hot pot restaurant, and a grain and oil store. The upper two floors were residential apartments. A straight corridor connected the rooms, with doors facing each other. The total number of rooms on both floors was about thirty.

"Bang, bang, bang!"

Russell knocked on the door of room 213 with a blank expression. He was the landlord of this apartment, and he was here today to discuss a lease renewal. If the tenant didn't plan to continue living there, he would terminate the contract and list the room number online.

He knocked for five minutes straight, showing no signs of stopping. He knew someone was inside because the tenant was a female streamer who was active at night and usually slept in during the day.

As expected, after Russell's persistent knocking, which threatened to break down the door, there was finally some movement inside. A string of curses directed at his relatives floated out, and the female streamer, wearing a slip dress, finally opened the door. Ten seconds later, she managed to focus her sleepy eyes.

"Oh, isn't this the handsome landlord? What wind blew you here today to knock on my door?" The streamer's eyes lit up when she saw Russell, and she immediately wrapped her arms around his, speaking in a sweet, cooing voice.

High sugar content!

"Hehe, such strong arms. I didn't realize you were so well-built."

But Russell was oblivious to this. He pulled his arm away and took a step back, maintaining a certain distance.

Russell did this not because the streamer was ugly. She had a standard internet celebrity face, and many people called her a goddess during her livestreams. Nor was it because Russell had a problem with his orientation.

Russell had seen the streamer's ID card and knew that her double eyelids, oval face, and high nose bridge were all fake. She was originally a woman with small eyes, a flat nose, and a square face. Her beauty was the result of modifications from two major cosmetic procedures.

Russell spoke directly: "Miss, your lease is up next month. I'm here to ask if you plan to extend your lease. If so, you can pay half a year's rent today."

"Oh, you're so annoying. Talking about money hurts our feelings. How about giving me a discount on the rent?" The streamer gave him two flirtatious glances. It wasn't that she was short on money, but she enjoyed teasing people.

Having dealt with many sycophantic internet losers, she found Russell, who didn't show any particular reaction, very interesting. Hooking him would give her a greater sense of accomplishment regarding her own beauty.

Russell put on a smile: "I'm sorry, you're not my type. I prefer natural women!"

"..."

The streamer rolled her eyes, pulled her slip strap back onto her shoulder, crossed her arms, and leaned against the door. "To be honest with you, the toilet here gets clogged every three days. I don't plan to continue living here. I'll move out at the end of the month. My sugar daddy has prepared a house for me."

"Okay, I'll come to collect the keys at the end of the month. Please remember to have the room cleaned. You can also pay 100 yuan, and I'll arrange for cleaning services," Russell said professionally. He added kindly at the end: "Although the contract will end here, we may have opportunities to cooperate in the future. If your sugar daddy abandons you, you're always welcome to move back in."

"..."

This conversation could make silicone burst. The streamer took a few deep breaths, unwilling to stoop to the level of a loser like Russell who would die alone: "Handsome landlord, remember to come at night when you collect the keys at the end of the month. Don't disturb my beauty sleep during the day. Also... notify me via WeChat in advance. I don't want to open the door for you while I'm live-streaming, as it might cause unnecessary misunderstandings with my fans. You understand?"

"No problem, let's add each other on WeChat for easier communication!"

"Don't you already have my WeChat?" The streamer looked bewildered. "We added each other when I first moved in."

Russell shook his head, completely unfazed: "I already deleted you. It was last time when you sent me your selfie late at night."

The streamer's eyelids twitched. She placed her hands on her hips, suppressing her anger, and said: "If you deleted me, you don't need to add me again. Just call me!"

"I deleted your number too!"

The streamer: "..."

After re-adding each other on WeChat, the streamer gave Russell the middle finger as he walked away and slammed the door shut with a bang. She had material for tonight's stream: a pure and reserved beautiful tenant bullied by a domineering landlord, almost losing both her money and her virtue, desperately needing a wave of fan donations to soothe her wounded, tender heart.

Russell, male, twenty-five years old, single, no bad habits...

To own a three-story apartment building in the city at such a young age, even though the building was a bit old, was still considerable wealth. Therefore, it was definitely not achieved through hard work.

It was an afternoon about half a year ago. Russell was still a young police officer. After work, his eyelids twitched incessantly. He had a premonition and bought a lottery ticket. Then, he received a phone call: his parents had been in a car accident... and were gone.

They left quickly and decisively. This apartment building was the inheritance they left for Russell.

The driver who caused the accident was a well-known entrepreneur in the city, who had even received an outstanding entrepreneur award, making him a somewhat prominent figure. The cause was a business deal finalized over drinks with a client. He took his female secretary to drink and drive. Halfway there, his body trembled, his vision blurred, and his limbs felt weak, causing him to lose control of the steering wheel and drive into Russell's parents' car, head-on, resulting in this tragedy.

Russell's parents were gone, as were the entrepreneur and his female secretary. The accident was processed quickly, and according to the investigation results, the entrepreneur was fully responsible. There were no instances of abuse of power during the processing. The entrepreneur's family voluntarily took full responsibility and paid a large sum of money, only asking Russell to keep quiet and not reveal the truth of the investigation to the public, allowing the entrepreneur to die with some dignity.

Of course, the entrepreneur's family's willingness to settle might also have been related to Russell wearing a police uniform.

Looking at the entrepreneur's father, an elderly man with graying hair, kneeling and crying for his son's reputation, Russell could only remain silent. Since they were gone, what meaning would it have to say anything more?

While clearing out his parents' room, Russell discovered a diary hidden in a secret compartment of the bookshelf. It contained incoherent gibberish, words cut from newspapers, and some disordered Arabic numerals.

An ordinary person might just find it a bit strange, but Russell, being a police... officer, immediately recognized it wasn't a diary but a codebook.

This made Russell extremely confused. His father, Luohan Tang, was a middle-aged man with a receding hairline, a beer belly, and a habit of picking his toes. Besides collecting rent, he just played mahjong. His mother, Fang Yanqing, was a woman whose figure had gone out of shape. Her daily routine was similar: besides collecting rent, she played mahjong. What secrets could such ordinary people have, to the point of keeping a codebook hidden away?

Russell spent three days deciphering the codebook by using the first book from the left on each shelf, cross-referencing it with the Arabic numerals, and the conclusion he reached left him dumbfounded: his parents were assassins!

With such mysterious identities as assassins, what was with their daily routine of collecting rent and playing mahjong?

Were they masters hiding among the common folk? Living in obscurity?

Even if they didn't care about the prestige of being assassins and deliberately kept a low profile, they should at least have had decent attire. However, Russell's parents didn't even have hair gel, let alone suits, leather shoes, and sunglasses.

Thinking of his father's beer belly that jiggled with every movement and his mother's pear-shaped figure, Russell felt they had hidden themselves extremely successfully. No one would ever associate them with assassins. Especially his father, Luohan Tang, whose first action upon waking up every day was to meticulously comb his receding hairline, trying to cover the bald spot in the middle with hair from the sides.

Who would believe that such a greasy middle-aged man, constantly battling his follicles, was an assassin!

What kind of mindset does it take for a killer's parents to raise their son to be a police officer?

Life is even more absurd than fiction. While Russell was deciphering the codebook, he discovered a lot more information that made his head ache. For example, more than half of the blind dates his mother, Fang Yanqing, had arranged for him were with people in the industry. His ex-girlfriend, who was reluctantly transferred abroad for work and chose to part ways peacefully, was also one of them. He had been sad about it for a while.

"I hate killers!"

Russell covered his face with his hand. It seemed like almost everyone in his family, except for him, was a killer.

After a period of dejection, Russell resigned from the police force. He couldn't expose his parents and felt too ashamed to wear his uniform again. So, he transferred the ownership of the three-story apartment building, became a landlord, and recently started learning to play mahjong.

Russell thought things would end there, but he underestimated his own self-destructive tendencies. Out of curiosity about his parents and ex-girlfriend, he hacked his father's chat account and spent his days lurking in the killer group chats.

The account was on the computer, and he succeeded on his second try with the password. It was his mother Fang Yanqing's Pinyin plus the Arabic numerals 520. Based on Russell's understanding of his parents, his father must have been passive when setting the password.

The killer group chats were very lively, often reaching 99+ messages in a blink of an eye. Besides using coded language to chat about work, they mostly bragged and chatted idly. Their professions were also diverse: cartoonists, film critics, photographers, script editors, and even people receiving welfare – all highly flexible jobs.

The most exaggerated part was that six out of ten killers were full-time online writers.

Initially, these killers worked as freelance contributors for publishing houses. Later, as e-books bombarded the market and publishing houses closed down en masse, they collectively switched careers to become online authors. They were all doing quite well and were extremely skilled at writing commercial novels that followed predictable tropes.

Russell believed they weren't being truthful about their professions for obvious reasons. If this group of people were serious, then eighty percent of the writers on certain platforms would warrant serious thought. This was especially true for those who habitually dropped their stories, or those who suddenly stopped updating only to miraculously return – they were practically guaranteed to be killers.

Through their daily bragging, Russell gradually learned about the real lives of his parents and ex-girlfriend. It wasn't as glamorous as depicted in movies, and they all harbored feelings of aversion and disgust towards their killer identities.

Unfortunately, once you're in this line of work, you can't just get out after making a quick buck. They hated their identities but couldn't escape. Unless the group leader—the one who knew everyone's true identities—died, they were doomed for life!

Take Russell's father, Luohan Tang, for example. He was a retired soldier, penniless. To raise money to marry Russell's mother, Fang Yanqing, he was pulled into this pit by his former squad leader. By the time Russell was born, it was too late for him to quit. He had even dragged his mother into the pit, where she was responsible for booking train tickets, gathering intelligence, drafting assassination plans, and also served as the financial manager.

From then on, Russell lurked in the killer group chats, watching them brag. Not to mention, these people came from all over the world and loved to argue. Russell learned a lot of obscure knowledge from them.

The innermost room on the third floor of the apartment building was where Luohan Tang and Fang Yanqing had lived the longest, and also where Russell found the codebook. This room held many secrets. Russell had cleared out everything he could find, but he worried there were still undiscovered secrets, so he continued to live there.

Russell first checked his phone, which he had retrieved from the gap in the bedside table. It showed no missed calls or messages. He casually placed it aside to charge and opened his computer, skillfully logging into the account to begin his daily lurking.

Just then, a mechanical synthesized electronic voice echoed in the room. To be precise, the voice sounded in Russell's mind; no one else could hear it.

[Host, please note that the third mission world is about to begin. A ten-minute countdown is now starting. Please prepare!]

The voice repeated the prompt three times, but Russell didn't respond. He picked up a cigarette from the desk, lit it, and sat quietly without moving. He didn't smoke, but sometimes he would light one to relieve fatigue.

Russell, male, twenty-five years old, single, no bad habits… has a System!

Newcomer author, new book! Novice author seeks collections!