28: Chapter 28 Welcome to the Colosseum

The lights of The Metropolitan Museum of Art cut a corner of Fifth Avenue into daylight.

A stretched lincoln pulled up to the end of the red carpet.

The car door opened, and camera flashes ignited like hundreds of welding torches all at once.

Chen Mo sat in the car, adjusting his bowtie in the rearview mirror.

Half an hour ago, he was still that ruthless thug killing and looting at the docks, reeking of gunpowder.

Now, he looked at himself in the mirror and activated [Master of Disguise].

His facial muscle groups underwent imperceptible shifts.

The originally cold and hard jawline softened, and the faint trace of murderous intent that always lingered at the corners of his eyes was drawn deep into his pupils, replaced by a look that was lazy, world-weary, yet carried a hint of arrogance.

His spine relaxed, his shoulders dropped, and the tension of being ready to draw a gun at any moment vanished.

"Are you ready? My partner." Ava smoothed the hem of her deep-V evening gown and rested her hand on Chen Mo's forearm.

She was still savoring the way Chen Mo had killed just moments ago; the image made her inner thighs feel tight.

"As long as the check clears, I'm always ready."

Chen Mo pushed open the car door. The rough, gravelly voice belonging to a Brooklyn detective was gone; his voice was now mellow, deep, and exuded a sense of superiority born in the womb.

He took Ava by the hand and stepped out of the car.

Flashbulbs exploded.

"Who is that? Which family's young master is he?"

"Ava Rockefeller actually brought a male companion?"

The crowd whispered. Chen Mo looked straight ahead, his steps languid yet elegant, as if the red carpet beneath his feet were the rug in his own living room.

Arm in arm with Ava, he walked into the museum hall under the gaze of hundreds.

Before the Temple of Dendur, the air was filled with the scent of perfume and the rustle of fine clothing.

The air floated with the scent of expensive champagne, cologne, and the rotten stench of money concealed beneath these fragrances.

"See that bald old man?" Ava picked up two glasses of champagne and handed one to Chen Mo.

"He's the Vice Chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee. The one in the red dress next to him is a major shareholder of Lockheed Martin.

Every bit of small talk here could decide the life or death of some nation in the Middle East tomorrow."

Chen Mo swirled his glass, the golden liquid clinging to the sides.

"Is this what you call cannibalism?" Chen Mo chuckled, his gaze sweeping across the room. "The table manners are quite refined, though."

A pot-bellied middle-aged man walked over, his name tag reading "Wall Street Quantum Fund Partner."

"Ava, who is this?" The man sized up Chen Mo.

"Chen Mo, my... personal investment consultant," Ava introduced.

"Investment consultant?" The man scoffed. "Young man, the market is tough right now, especially for a rookie just starting out."

Chen Mo took a sip of champagne, not angered by the other's disdain.

In his mind, [Advanced Deception] whirred furiously, combining memories from his past life with financial knowledge stripped from the dead.

"It is indeed tough," Chen Mo said in a flat tone.

"Especially when the Federal Reserve is preparing to shrink its balance sheet next month, while some funds are still heavily going long on tech stocks before that happens.

I heard that the Quantum Fund just gobbled up 200 million in Nvidia short positions last week?

Good luck to you. After all, the winds on Capitol Hill seem to be leaning more towards giving the AI industry the green light."

The man's smile froze on his face.

The news of the Federal Reserve shrinking its balance sheet was still top secret, and the sentiment on Capitol Hill was known only to the inner circle.

"How... how do you know that?"

Chen Mo didn't answer; he simply raised his glass, took Ava by the arm, and turned to leave.

"Brilliant," Ava whispered into his ear. "You sounded like a real old bastard just now."

"Thanks for the compliment."

Chen Mo's gaze wandered through the crowd.

Suddenly, his gaze stopped.

In the corner of the hall, in the shadow of that Anubis statue, stood a woman in a black backless evening gown.

She was holding a plate, looking like she was selecting dessert, but her eyes were scanning the entire room like a radar.

Jessica Vance.

That female FBI agent—how could she be here?

Chen Mo narrowed his eyes.

Jessica was clearly uncomfortable in this setting; her high heels kept her calves tense, and her fingers were unconsciously rubbing her clutch—the place where a gun or a recording device was usually hidden.

A flushed, alcohol-reeking man blocked Jessica's path.

That was a New York State Congressman, a notorious lecher.

"Miss, this dress really complements your skin tone."

The Congressman's hand reached uninvited toward Jessica's waist. "I haven't seen you before. Which department are you an intern for?"

Jessica stepped back half a pace, her eyes turning cold, the clutch being squeezed out of shape.

She was on an undercover mission; she couldn't be exposed, nor could she fight back.

"Excuse me, sir, I'm going to the restroom."

"Don't be in such a rush to leave." The Congressman grabbed her wrist, leaning forward, that nauseating stench of alcohol spraying onto Jessica's face.

"I know a quieter place around here. We can talk about your... career path."

Jessica's other hand had already moved toward the strap on her outer thigh.

Just then, a slender hand cut in, steadily supporting the bottom of the red wine glass in the Congressman's hand.

"Congressman."

Chen Mo's voice cut in abruptly, carrying just the right amount of surprise and enthusiasm.

"I didn't expect to see you here! Regarding that redevelopment bill you proposed in Queens last time, I've been looking for a chance to ask for your guidance."

As he spoke, Chen Mo's wrist gave a seemingly casual flick.

"Splosh!"

A full glass of red wine splashed onto the front of the Congressman's snow-white shirt, not a drop spared, looking like a burst of blood.

"Oh my!" Chen Mo exclaimed, immediately letting go and pulling out his pocket square to wipe frantically at the Congressman.

"I am so sorry, I was just too excited! This is your favorite handmade Italian shirt, isn't it?"

The wiping motion was extremely rough, only spreading the red wine stain wider and deeper.

"You!" The Congressman was trembling with rage, pushing Chen Mo away. "You damn..."

"I'll pay! I'll definitely pay!" Chen Mo looked terrified, but his body cleverly blocked the space between the Congressman and Jessica.

"I am a consultant for the Rockefeller Family. Here is my business card... oh wait, I forgot my business card. Wait a moment, I'll go get my checkbook for you!"

With that, he turned and walked away, not giving the Congressman any chance to lash out.

The Congressman looked down at his shirt, which resembled a crime scene, then at the mocking gazes from those around him. He swore, clutched his chest, and rushed toward the restroom in a disheveled state.

Only Chen Mo and Jessica remained in the corner.

Chen Mo turned around, resuming that elegant and distant smile.

"There are quite a lot of wolves in this kind of setting." He took a fresh glass of soda water from a passing waiter's tray and handed it to Jessica. "Sometimes, splashing someone with dirty water is more effective than drawing a gun."

Jessica was stunned. She took the water, staring at this excessively handsome man before her.

The face was unfamiliar, but the tone of voice and that textbook-perfect rescue...

"Thank you," Jessica said in a low voice. "If you hadn't dealt with him, I might have actually snapped his fingers just now."

"That would have stained this carpet, and it's hard to clean." Chen Mo shrugged. "Besides, the FBI budget probably wouldn't cover the cleaning fees here."

Jessica's pupils contracted sharply.

"How did you know I was..."

Her hand instantly reached into her clutch.

Chen Mo had already stepped back, raising his hands in surrender, a playful smile on his face.

"Don't be nervous. I could tell just by looking at your stance and that look in your eyes like you're ready to take statements from everyone around you at any moment."

He leaned in closer, speaking in a voice only the two of them could hear. "Also, next time you go undercover, don't wear such high heels. It affects your draw speed."

Jessica stared at him intensely.

"Who exactly are you?"

"A concerned citizen passing by."

Chen Mo blinked, turned, and walked toward Ava, who was not far away.

Jessica watched his retreating figure, the sense of familiarity growing stronger.

That silhouette slowly overlapped with the blurry shadow she had watched countless times on surveillance footage—the one placing the USB drive under the bench.

Just then, a dull thud of a heavy object hitting the ground suddenly came from the center of the hall.

"Bang!"

Followed immediately by a woman's scream.

"Someone's dead!"

The crowd erupted instantly.

In the thousandth of a second that the scream rang out, Chen Mo stopped in his tracks.

The mask of the lazy young master shattered instantly, replaced by the instinct of a hound catching the scent of blood.

He didn't look back at Jessica; his body shot out like an arrow from a bowstring.

Jessica reacted a half-beat slower, dropped her clutch, and rushed over as well.

The two of them, one after the other, tore through the panicked crowd, rushing toward the figure lying on the ground.