Death of Long Robe

Warm golden light spilled from the lamp, illuminating the dim study.

It was already one in the morning. In the corner, a clock with a stark modern minimalist design ticked on without rest.

"Tick, tick, tick."

The clock hands moved steadily. Xia Lun sat silently behind his desk, and a cold, murderous stillness filled the room.

If nothing went wrong, he would hear of Long Robe's death tomorrow morning.

Xia Lun glanced at the calendar on the wall, then quietly looked away.

Five days had passed since his conversation with White Line. Two days remained before the Scenario cooldown ended.

During those five days, he had done no Swordsmanship, marksmanship, or Stealth training. Instead, he had poured all his time and energy into planning and deploying the operation against Long Robe.

The plan itself had taken very little effort.

That was not because Xia Lun was particularly skilled at planning such operations. Long Robe's movements were practically public knowledge.

Although the Rail Transit project Long Robe had proposed and spearheaded was still far from ready—with ownership, funding, technology, and labor all unresolved—he had already rushed into action.

Long Robe had chosen the valley beside the notorious Whitewash Psychiatric Sanatorium as the starting point for excavation. In the space of a week, he had assembled a sizable construction crew and begun digging. He himself had remained at the site throughout.

Most of Xia Lun's effort had gone into positioning himself to reap the rewards. Once Long Robe died, he was confident he could claim the largest share of what the man left behind while making major headway against the severe corruption in his own businesses.

In short, he had arranged the right time, the right place, and the right manner of death for Long Robe.

In six hours, Long Robe would