516: Chapter 516 Sneak Attack, This Person is Strange

Fang Cheng waited quietly.

After a moment, a burst of noisy background sound came from the earpiece.

That was the sound of steam from an opened steamer basket and the commotion of a crowd.

Following that was an intermittent conversation mixed with the sound of chewing:

"Boss... Give me a basket of beef-stuffed steamed buns too, to go..."

"Alrighty, hold on a second, brother."

"Boss, your business is doing pretty well... Oh yeah, let me ask you something..."

"Does a very sturdy young man with the surname Fang live in that building ahead?"

"I am from the gas company... doing routine pipeline inspections..."

"Oh, you mean A-Cheng? There is indeed such a person. He often goes out for morning exercises and frequently comes to my place to buy steamed buns..."

"What? Is there a problem with his gas?"

"It's nothing, just checking the homeowner's information to avoid going to the wrong door... Thank you, Boss..."

The voice was very faint, with a lot of static.

Clearly, Dachui was also very cautious and did not get too close; he just happened to record it while waiting in line nearby.

A few seconds later, the voice of the man asking for directions in the background disappeared.

After another moment, Dachui's report came through in a deliberately lowered voice:

"President, that guy seems to have headed toward the Tubular Building. Judging by his looks, something is definitely wrong with him!"

"How so?"

Fang Cheng spoke up and asked.

"His walking posture is wrong."

Dachui said with a firm tone, quickly making a judgment:

"Although he pretended to be very casual, I can tell that his heels barely touch the ground, relying entirely on the balls of his feet for force."

"Where we come from, this is called 'cat walk', a habit only practiced by martial artists who specialize in body-lightening kung fu."

"And that toolbox of his... doesn't look like it's holding wrenches, pipe wrenches, or detectors at all. There isn't the slightest sound when he walks."

"I feel like it's more like it's carrying some heavy-duty hardware inside."

Don't let Dachui's honest appearance fool you; he has a meticulous mind beneath his rough exterior and a very sharp eye.

"Understood."

Hearing this, a sharp light flashed in Fang Cheng's eyes.

Although the color of the clothes was wrong, and the mole on the forehead wasn't seen, other characteristics and behaviors basically matched up.

"Dachui, Monkey, the target is basically confirmed. Get yourselves ready and act according to the original plan."

"Yes!"

"Received!"

Ending the call, Fang Cheng took a deep breath and slightly closed his eyelids.

The next second, his perception expanded outward like a tide, instantly entering the profound state of Visualization.

The blazing sun in the Inner Scene World suddenly burst forth with boundless light.

Strands of golden threads, invisible to the naked eye and composed of pure Mental Energy, spread outward in all directions with him as the center.

In this dimension, the world was no longer a heap of matter, but an interweaving of energy and emotions.

Sure enough.

Somewhere in the dark, he sensed a faint, extremely oppressive malice.

That malice was cold and viscous, just like a venomous snake winding its way through a dark place.

It was slithering up the stairs bit by bit.

The target was clear, and the Killing Intent was faintly visible.

It was finally here!

It was faster than expected, and much more cautious.

Moreover, through the feedback of his perception, Fang Cheng could be certain that there was no fluctuation peculiar to Mental Energy on the other person.

He was indeed not a Mental Energy user!

Fang Cheng opened his eyes, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly to form an arc.

Since the guest had already arrived, the host should also go out to "greet" him.

He did not wait at home for the other party to come up; instead, he quickly put away the earpiece and hid it in his trouser pocket.

Then he took a loose gray jacket from the coat rack, put it on, zipped it up, and perfectly covered up the lines of his muscles.

Afterward, he took out a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and put them on, looked in the mirror, and smoothed out the messy bangs in front of his forehead.

He nodded slightly with satisfaction and muttered to himself:

"The image isn't bad..."

Finally, he picked up the canvas bag he had packed long ago and slung it over his shoulder.

Having finished all this, Fang Cheng calmly looked around, confirmed there were no omissions, and then turned the door handle and pushed the door open to go out.

"Click."

The security iron door closed gently, locking everything inside the house back into the newly descended night.

In the hallway, the light was dim.

Because of disrepair, most of the sensor lights were broken.

Only the lights of the residents coming through the floor corridors barely illuminated the bumpy concrete steps underfoot.

A thin middle-aged man was slowly walking up the stairs.

He was wearing a slightly faded blue gas company uniform and a black baseball cap.

The brim of the hat was pulled down very low, covering almost most of his face.

On his shoulder was a heavily worn toolbox, and he was chewing gum absentmindedly.

He looked like an ordinary blue-collar worker.

But his footsteps were very light, so light that the sound of landing was almost inaudible, just like a nocturnal feline.

Step by step, the middle-aged man walked up the stairs.

Every time he reached the corner of a floor, he would deliberately stop.

Seemingly adjusting the shoulder strap of his toolbox, he actually scanned the surrounding environment calmly with the corner of his eye.

At the same time, his ears twitched slightly, capturing even the tiniest movements in the hallway.

The evening news broadcast on the TV, the crying and bickering of children, the bickering between couples...

Various noisy sounds mixed together, filling the night of this old residential building.

He listened for a few seconds, and under the cover of turning around, quickly opened a crack in the toolbox.

Two fingers pinched a small yellowish-brown piece out of it, which looked like some kind of clay.

Subsequently, he pressed this piece extremely quickly into the crevices of the mottled and peeling wall at the corner.

Then he gently smoothed it out with his fingers, making it blend perfectly with the surrounding environment.

If one didn't get close and look carefully, no one would notice these inconspicuous traces.

Just like this, layer after layer, he repeated the same action.

Compared to a gas company pipeline maintenance worker, at this moment, he looked more like a decoration master meticulously repairing the flaws on the wall.

Just as he walked to the corner of the sixth and a half floor, ready to head to the seventh floor,

"Thump, thump, thump..."

A rush of hurried footsteps suddenly came from upstairs.

Someone was coming down!

The middle-aged man's gum-chewing action paused abruptly, and his right hand subconsciously touched the side of the toolbox at his waist.

His whole body's muscles tightened instantly, like a fully drawn bow, seemingly ready to launch a sudden attack at any moment.

The footsteps came closer and closer, accompanied by a mumbled, self-reproachful mutter:

"Damn it, how could I leave the documents at home... Now I'm going to be late."

That voice sounded like that of a young man, revealing obvious anxiety and irritability.

The middle-aged man frowned slightly, not letting down his vigilance.

He turned sideways, standing with his back against the wall, yielding half of the passage while pulling the brim of his hat even lower.

The next second.

A tall figure rushed out from the corner of the seventh floor.

That was a young man wearing a gray jacket, carrying a bulging blue canvas bag, and holding a stack of document-like things in his hand.

While running, he lowered his head to look at the papers in his hand, walking in a hurry without paying attention to the front at all.

The two met face to face in the narrow, dim hallway.

Because the young man was running too fast and the light was dim, he almost bumped straight into the middle-aged man's arms.

"Hey, watch out!"

The young man's reaction was quite fast; with an exclamation, he quickly slammed on the brakes with his feet, his body forcefully shifting to the side.

Although he timely avoided a direct collision, his arm still gently brushed past the middle-aged man's shoulder and clothes.

Swaying in figure, the young man's hand shook.

Swish.

The stack of documents he was holding instantly scattered, and a few pieces of paper fluttered to the ground.

A flash of murderous intent flickered across the middle-aged man's eyes, and his fingers hidden beside the toolbox had already gripped the cold hilt of the knife.

As long as this young man showed the slightest abnormality, or displayed any signs of aggressiveness,

he would strike without hesitation, cutting the other person's throat within a second.

However.

After steadying his figure, a trace of apology immediately appeared on the young man's face, and he hurriedly apologized:

"Sorry! Master, I didn't bump into you, did I? I'm in a rush and didn't look at the road, I'm truly sorry!"

His tone was sincere and his expression anxious.

He looked completely like a reckless young office worker in a hurry, completely harmless.

The middle-aged man's tense muscles relaxed a bit, and his gaze inadvertently swept across the scattered papers on the ground.

That was a printed document, with most of the content covered up.

But the eye-catching red seal at the very top, along with the exposed words "Special Investigation Team", "Top Secret", and "Operation Codename", grabbed his gaze like a magnet.

"People from the Special Investigation Team?!"

A thought of doubt flashed through his mind.

Before he could sort out his thoughts, a scene that shocked him even more appeared.

The moment the young man bent down to pick up the documents and raised his head,

taking advantage of the dim light in the hallway, the middle-aged man finally saw the other person's face clearly.

At that moment, his pupils shrank sharply to the size of pinpoints.

This young man had handsome facial features, wore gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, and looked gentle, refined, and somewhat scholarly.

In the dimness, his skin faintly glowed like jade, and one could even say it was as fair and tender as a young girl's.

More importantly, he seemed... as if... he was the target person of his operation this time.

It's just that,

the young man in front of him had a completely different temperament from the man described in the intelligence as "dark-skinned, exercising year-round, and with a tough demeanor".

What on earth is going on? Could they be twins?

The middle-aged man's heart shook, the surging Killing Intent solidifying in an instant, only to be forcibly pressed back deep into the bottom of his eyes.

The young man didn't seem to notice the abnormality of this "gas maintenance worker" in front of him.

He quickly squatted down, hurriedly and clumsily picked up the scattered documents on the ground, and tidied them up.

He even deliberately wiped the dust off them with his sleeve, as if they were some priceless treasure.

Having finished all this, he smiled at the middle-aged man:

"I'm really sorry, Master, to have startled you. I'll get going first, you go ahead and be busy!"

"It's fine, watch the road next time."

The middle-aged man lowered the brim of his hat, replied in a deliberately disguised hoarse voice, and stepped aside to yield the path.

"Ah, okay, you should also pay attention to safety."

The young man nodded politely to signal, then squeezed past him sideways holding the documents.

"Wait!"

At this moment, a low call suddenly came from behind.

The young man instinctively stopped and looked back.

And at the very split second he turned around, the middle-aged man moved.

Swish!

Too fast!

The palm that was originally hanging at his side ejected like a bullet from a chamber.

The fingertips tore through the air, stirring up a sharp gust of wind straight toward the young man's face.

This blow was extremely fierce, so fast that almost no afterimage could be seen in the air.

If it were switched to a martial artist or a keenly perceptive alien, bodily instincts would react with blocking or retreating.

However, facing this sudden fatal attack, the young man stood in place without moving an inch, as if his reaction arc had been severed.

That wisp of fierce finger wind even blew messy bangs in front of his forehead and stung his skin.

But in those clear eyes of his, besides great puzzlement, there was only puzzlement.

No dodging, no panic, not even time to blink his eyelids.

That was the dullness that only ordinary people who completely didn't understand combat and had no perception of danger would have.

Just within a hair's breadth of the fingers touching the young man's nose tip,

the middle-aged man's wrist turned weirdly, and the life-claiming claws instantly transformed into gentle flower-pinching fingers.

Looking closely again, his fingertips were already pinching a thin piece of white paper at some point.

All Killing Intent and wind force vanished into thin air at this moment, as if they had never existed.

"You dropped a piece of paper."

The middle-aged man stared into the young man's pupils for two seconds and slowly said, his tone so calm that not a single ripple could be heard.

The young man was stunned for a moment, then took it with a sudden realization, saying with a face full of gratitude:

"Thank you very much, look at how careless I am, Master, you really are a good person!"

"Just a small effort, go ahead."

The middle-aged man waved his hand expressionlessly.

"Alrighty, if we're fated to meet again next time, I will definitely thank you properly!"

The young man stuffed the documents into his satchel, still nodding and smiling very politely, and bid farewell once more.

The middle-aged man didn't continue staring at him either, and walked straight upstairs.

The moment the two turned around simultaneously, turning their backs to each other,

deep within their eyes—previously either honest or calm—a trace of cold glint hard for the other to detect surfaced almost simultaneously.

The young man took big strides, rushing down the stairs like a gust of wind while muttering:

"I have to hurry, Director Ling is still waiting for me to submit the report..."

That seemingly thin figure quickly disappeared deep into the spiraling downward shadows of the stairs.

Hearing the footsteps rapidly receding, the middle-aged man's eyes narrowed slightly, then he walked in a few steps to the window of the stairwell.

The glass there had long been shattered, leaving only an empty window frame.

He skillfully leaned sideways against the visual blind spot of the wall.

Under the cover of the shadows, he narrowed his eyes and locked his gaze tightly onto the entrance of the unit downstairs through the window frame.

A few seconds later.

The young man wearing the gray jacket rushed out of the unit door.

"Beep-beep—"

In the corner by the road, a black SUV timely flashed its hazard lights.

The car door opened, and the young man quickly slipped inside, sitting directly in the driver's seat.

The middle-aged man chewed his gum, strong suspicion and incomprehension flashing in his eyes.

He completely couldn't figure out what on earth the "accidental encounter plot" from just now was all about.

He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the mess in his brain.

Then he raised his hand, pressed the miniature earpiece hidden beside his ear and covered by his hair, and said in a low voice:

"Night Owl, I am currently at Suspect Target No. 2's location, the situation has changed."

"The target person just went out, got into a black SUV, license plate DD90F38, and looks like he has some urgent business to handle."

"I suspect there's a problem with his identity, so I didn't make a move rashly."

A brief static sound came from the earpiece, followed by a capable voice:

"Ghost Sickle, follow immediately."

The middle-aged man frowned and hesitated for a moment:

"However, this person is very strange..."