While Mercenary Tao flew back across the ocean toward South City, Jiang Nan found an ATM and checked the bank card's balance using the PIN Mercenary Tao had given him.
Stars sparkled in Jiang Nan's eyes when he saw that long string of digits. Wasn't this exactly the sudden fortune he had always dreamed of back in his original world? It felt incredible!
As the saying went, money couldn't do everything, but without it, you couldn't do anything. Rich people had their troubles too, of course, but 99 percent of an ordinary person's worries involved money. The rich only had to deal with the remaining one percent, the troubles that came with pursuing higher needs.
He would never have to eat ramen for every meal again. Tears streamed down Jiang Nan's face. He also tried withdrawing some cash in case Mercenary Tao tampered with the bank account. With a thick stack of bills in hand, Jiang Nan happily treated himself to a seafood buffet.
After eating and drinking his fill, Jiang Nan first bought an antigravity motorcycle, another new product patented exclusively by the Capsule Corporation. The motorcycle had no wheels and used the same alien technology Dr. Brief had obtained from the Galactic Patrol. It hovered half a meter above the ground, without the slightest bump in the ride.
Riding his new little motorcycle with his travel pack on his back, Jiang Nan left White Cloud City, where he had lived for a year, and headed northeast.
Meanwhile, Mercenary Tao returned to South City and landed his aircraft directly on the rooftop helipad of the Silver Wolf Society's headquarters. The guards on the roof did not know who Mercenary Tao was, but their president had instructed them to notify him immediately when Piri Rete's aircraft returned, so a guard hurried off to report to President Carlos.
Carlos was thrilled by the news. He immediately ordered someone to fetch the champagne he had kept stored away for so long. He wanted to celebrate Mercenary Tao's success in person.
In the VIP lounge on the building's top floor, Carlos sat cheerfully at the head of the table and personally opened a bottle of champagne. Beside him sat his adviser, Duma, a middle-aged man who was always refined and unruffled. Mercenary Tao sat across from Carlos.
Carlos raised his glass to Mercenary Tao. "You truly deserve your reputation as the world's number one assassin. You completed the job in just one day! Mr. Mercenary Tao, I imagine your trip to White Cloud City went very smoothly. Oh, didn't Pilirick come back with you?"
Mercenary Tao did not answer directly. He raised his glass in acknowledgment, drained it in one gulp, and asked instead, "How many people know about this assignment?"
A glint flashed through the eyes of Duma, the Silver Wolf Society's chief adviser. A vague unease stirred within him. Why would an assassin ask something like that? Weren't professional assassins supposed to take the money and do the job without asking questions?
Duma spoke with impeccable courtesy. "Esteemed Mercenary Tao, what prompted you to ask that?"
Mercenary Tao seethed inwardly. He had built a fearsome reputation ever since entering the profession. Many people were scared out of their wits just hearing his name, yet an insignificant insect like Duma dared question him? Killing intent flickered in his eyes, but remembering his plan to silence the witnesses, Mercenary Tao restrained himself.
"Heh, the target is dead. Everyone who knows about the job should hear the result, lest anyone remain unaware of how efficiently I work. It would be rather unfortunate if some misunderstanding spread and damaged my reputation," Mercenary Tao explained.
The excuse was flimsy, but Mercenary Tao had never been much of a talker. His eloquence fell far short of his ability to kill. Coming up with even that excuse had pushed him to his limit.
Still reveling in the joy of having his great revenge, Carlos answered without a second thought. "No one else knows. Apart from Duma and me, there's only that boy Piri Rete."
Carlos concealed the involvement of Pei Hu and his son. The reason was simple: just as no businessman wanted to introduce a competitor to his own customers, he had no desire to connect Mercenary Tao with Pei Hu. If a conflict of interest ever arose between his Silver Wolf Society and Pei Hu's Black Tiger Hall, and Pei Hu then hired Mercenary Tao to assassinate him, wouldn't he have dug his own grave?
Carlos had spent years in the underworld, living every day on a knife's edge. Even if the possibility was vanishingly small, he had to snuff it out before it could take root.
Beside him, Duma hesitated. He kept feeling that Mercenary Tao's sudden question carried some other meaning. He asked again, "Mercenary Tao, I seem to recall you saying you would bring back the target's head. Did you twist off his head and hand it to Pilirick, then return to South City separately?"
"That's right. Why didn't Pilirick come back with you?" Carlos asked as well.
The corner of Mercenary Tao's mouth curled upward in a sinister grin. "I know where that subordinate of yours is. Would you like to see him now?"
Duma's heart jolted. He hurriedly said, "It was only a casual question. Please don't let it trouble you. President Carlos, everyone is in such good spirits today. Why don't we hold a victory banquet for our esteemed assassin? Let's use Hall 1505!"
Carlos's expression shifted slightly. "1505" was a code between him and Duma, warning of imminent, grave danger. Carlos hid the panic rising deep inside him and continued smiling as he agreed. "An excellent idea. Esteemed assassin, would you please wait here a moment while Duma and I make the arrangements?"
With that, Carlos and Duma rose to leave.
"Heh heh heh heh... hahahahaha!" Mercenary Tao suddenly burst out laughing. "A victory banquet? There's something I'd like to know, though. Why have your hearts suddenly started beating so much faster?"
Realizing they had been exposed, Duma knew Mercenary Tao really did intend to turn on them. He immediately shouted, "President, run-"
Before he could finish the word, Mercenary Tao had already snapped his neck.
Carlos hurriedly drew the custom handgun he carried. It was tremendously powerful, and even its armor-piercing ammunition was specially made. Carlos believed that if he could hit Mercenary Tao, no amount of martial arts skill could leave him unscathed.
But before Carlos could pull the trigger, Mercenary Tao's fingers closed around his trigger hand. The finger resting on the trigger could not move at all.
"Y-you... how could you!"
Those were Carlos's final words. Mercenary Tao's finger pierced his forehead and scrambled his brain in an instant.
Carlos, the formidable president of the Silver Wolf Society, died without even understanding why, killed by a single jab of Mercenary Tao's finger.
Mercenary Tao withdrew his finger and habitually slipped it into his mouth to suck on it. A look of relish crossed his face, only to change abruptly. Damn it! I acted too quickly and forgot to extort some money from Carlos. This job cost me three hundred million!
After finding nothing on Carlos's body, Mercenary Tao set the building's top floor ablaze to burn the corpses and erase the evidence. Amid the chaos, he went to loot Carlos's office as well. He eagerly opened Carlos's safe, only to discover, to his disappointment, that it contained nothing but account books.
Empty-handed and miserable, Mercenary Tao wandered aimlessly through the nighttime streets of South City. Spotting a tavern with a distinctive charm by the roadside, he stepped inside, intending to drown his sorrows in drink.
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