A Thousand Miles to Assist

The place where Smith retired was quite far. It took Russell about five days to return to Cross's territory. In the abandoned machine shop, Russell didn't bother waiting around and just called Cross directly.

After learning Russell was back, Cross arrived as fast as he could. His face was grim, and he only managed a stiff smile when he saw Russell.

"What's up? You look like it's the end of the world!"

Cross's eyes darkened, and he snapped, "It is the end of the world—my personal end of the world!"

"How so? Spill the bad news, let me have a laugh." Russell said in his usual insufferable tone. "Let me guess—did Sloan send you those photos of Wesley getting oiled up and taken by a dozen big, hard guys with a crowbar?"

Hearing Russell's poison tongue after so long caught Cross off guard. He shot Russell a fierce glare but suddenly found his mood lifting a bit.

Cross said bitterly, "Wesley. The Brotherhood turned Wesley into a qualified killer. The one thing I never wanted to see has happened."

Russell patted Cross on the shoulder, wanting to console him, but afraid his words would only sting more, so he kept his mouth shut.

Cross pushed Russell's hand away. "I'm going to make contact with Wesley and tell him the truth. If I wait any longer, he might not be able to turn back."

Russell nodded. Just like his own parents, the killer pit was best escaped early. Too late, and there's no going back.

Cross briefly laid out his plan. "I need your help. I'll find a way to get close to Wesley, and you draw off the other Brotherhood members."

Russell didn't refuse. His world mission was to destroy the Brotherhood and personally finish off its leader, Sloan. Wesley was an indispensable asset—winning him over would help complete the task.

Russell wasn't worried Cross would end up killed by Wesley like in the original story. Wesley had the potential to be a top killer, but Cross was a genius too—one who had already realized his talent. It hadn't even been two weeks since Wesley was taken by the Brotherhood. Even if he was the protagonist with cheats, he couldn't close the twenty-plus-year gap with his father.

Cross pulled a stack of photos from his pocket and spread them on the table. "Let me introduce you to the Brotherhood's core members—their specialties, killing methods, and habits. This is important. For your own sake, listen carefully."

"This is Sloan, the Brotherhood's leader and our biggest enemy..."

"This is Fire Fox. She's strong. She's the woman who took Wesley that night."

"This is Pesticide, a Russian who specializes in making bombs. I like his rat bomb design—pretty creative. No need to worry about him for now. Last night, when I was tailing Wesley, he got shot badly. He's probably done for."

"This is Butcher, a fat pig of a butcher. He's deadly with cold weapons. Don't get close to him."

"This is Gunsmith..."

"This is Repairman..."

"This is..."

"..."

Cross finished and pushed Pesticide's photo aside. The rest were the main threats. Russell noticed two photos tucked underneath. He flipped them over—one was Big Slick, the other an ordinary-looking middle-aged man. Both had red X's marked on them, indicating they were dead.

Russell pointed at the unfamiliar middle-aged man in the photo, curious. "Who's this guy?"

Cross flipped both photos back over, then drew a question mark on Pesticide's photo. "He was Rift. Decent fighter, but he's dead now."

Russell caught on. "You took him out?"

"Of course. You didn't think I was just sitting around all these days, did you?"

Looking at the photos laid out before him, Russell pinched the bridge of his nose. "Great. The enemy's strong and well-armed, and they've got your son as a hostage. Our odds are looking good."

Cross caught Russell's sarcasm and said bluntly, "I've got some good news too. The senator Sloan was cozying up to is dead. Without his political backing, our job gets a lot easier. That chase after Fire Fox the other night won't happen again."

Russell froze. The senator Cross mentioned—could it be...?

"What, you didn't watch the news?" Cross said with a grin. "Senator Lattridge, the frontrunner in the election, died in a plane crash. He was Sloan's connection. I love this plane crash. If he'd become president, Sloan would've been unstoppable."

Russell opened his mouth, then laughed helplessly. "It wasn't a plane crash. That unlucky bastard was killed by Smith. Here's how it went... blah blah... crash clatter... ding dong... you get it?"

Now it was Cross's turn to be stunned. He never imagined Russell's trip had been so eventful. And Smith—true to form as his old friend—still managed to send an assist from a thousand miles away.

Brotherhood!

Under brutal, near-abusive training, Wesley frantically tapped into the potential in his bloodline and quickly grew into a qualified killer.

As they say, men and women working together makes the job easier. With Fire Fox's help and encouragement, Wesley mastered Bullet Time in a single day—a skill that would take even a genius twenty years to fully grasp.

Wesley had already surpassed 90% of the Brotherhood's killers. What he lacked compared to the remaining 10% was experience... killing experience.

Sloan assigned Wesley several assassination targets. Kind-hearted Wesley couldn't bring himself to kill a stranger he knew nothing about. He hesitated several times, unable to pull the trigger.

At the critical moment, Fire Fox stepped in again, explaining the greatness of the Loom and the tragedy that would unfold if the targets weren't eliminated on time.

Wesley chose to believe 36C—no, he chose to believe Fire Fox—and used his newly learned skills to successfully assassinate his targets one after another.

Brimming with confidence, Wesley volunteered to assassinate Cross. He couldn't wait to avenge his biological father, Big Slick.

That's right—according to Sloan, Cross was the one who killed Big Slick.

As for Russell... after examining Big Slick's body, Sloan downgraded his threat level. Besides, the whole reason he recruited Wesley was to deal with Cross. Even if Big Slick had choked to death on water, Cross would still take the blame.

When Wesley eagerly offered to take on the mission, Sloan agreed without hesitation. He knew Wesley wasn't a match for Cross yet, but he couldn't afford to wait for Wesley to grow. Senator Lattridge was dead. Sloan needed to find a new backer, and eliminating Cross was urgent.

Sloan found Fire Fox alone, told her to partner with Wesley, and gave her a secret order: kill Wesley after he killed Cross.

Fire Fox accepted the mission in silence. Everyone marked by the Loom deserved to die. Even if they hadn't done anything harmful to society yet, they would in the future.

Killing one to save many—that was the Brotherhood's purpose. Fire Fox believed it with all her heart!

Excited, Wesley began investigating Cross. He tracked down the old man who supplied Cross with custom bullets, threatened him into setting up a meeting with Cross, and then lay in ambush with Fire Fox.

In truth, the Brotherhood had already suspected the old man was in contact with Cross, but Sloan wasn't confident he could kill Cross, so he'd left the lead untouched. Now it was perfect bait for Wesley.

But no one—not even the Brotherhood—knew this was a trap set by Cross. He wanted to meet Wesley face to face!

Failure Diary

Don't look at someone's first book topping the charts and get all jealous. You have no idea that behind writing that book, they didn't even try.