518: Chapter 518 As a clerk, I also like to use my fists to reason things out.

"Buzz—"

The tires rolled over the rough concrete ground, making a friction sound.

A black SUV stopped in front of the tallest unfinished building.

The headlights went out, and the surroundings instantly plunged into darkness.

Fang Cheng pushed the door open and got out, tightly grasping the blue canvas bag in his hand.

He looked around, seemingly confirming his position.

Then, walking unsteadily, he stepped through the knee-deep weeds and walked into the pitch-black unfinished building ahead.

Several hundred meters away, a silver-gray Jetta silently glided behind an earth slope and stopped with its engine killed.

Ghost Sickle pushed the door open, carried his toolbox on his back, and nimbly jumped out of the car.

At this moment, he had already taken off his blue gas company uniform, revealing the black combat suit worn underneath.

The tight fabric outlined smooth muscle lines, showing his extraordinary physical fitness.

Instead of rushing in, he squatted down first, checked the tire tracks on the ground, and pricked up his ears to listen to the surrounding movements for a moment.

Aside from the wind and the occasional chirping of insects in the distance, there was no breath of any enemy ambush.

Ghost Sickle sneered, then pulled a pitch-black tactical dagger from his waist and held it in a reverse grip.

Then, hunching his body and tipping on his toes, he quietly glided toward the dark behemoth that had swallowed the target's figure.

The night wind wept, passing through the hollow window frames of the unfinished building and making a low wailing sound.

Ghost Sickle, like a weightless ghost, silently glided into this huge concrete skeleton.

Ahead, heavy footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell, accompanied by Fang Cheng's slightly hurried panting.

Because the unfinished building had no elevators, this Special Investigation Team specialist could only rely on his legs to climb up step by step.

"Hoo... Hoo..."

Hearing the commotion coming from above, the corners of Ghost Sickle's mouth could not help but curl up in contempt.

As expected of an office-bound civilian staff, after climbing just over a dozen floors, his stamina was already failing.

His steps were very light, and his figure shuttled and rose in the dark like a bat.

Every time he passed a floor, he would skillfully open his toolbox and take out a few pieces of grayish-brown clay.

His fingers flew, kneading them into a ball.

Then these soils were perfectly embedded into the wall cracks or exposed steel bar shadows, and smeared with a layer of gray to cover them.

His actions were smooth and flowing, without any extra sound.

"As expected, he is just a guy who only knows how to analyze intelligence. For the sake of so-called confidentiality, he picked this godforsaken place to meet..."

Ghost Sickle sneered inwardly, muttering to himself:

"You have watched too many movies, have you not? Good thing, it can serve as your natural graveyard, saving me the trouble of cleaning up the scene."

As the floors continued to rise, the clay stock in the toolbox was running low.

Ghost Sickle had to slow down his placement frequency, changing it to setting only two or three blasting points per floor.

Finally, the footsteps ahead stopped.

Ghost Sickle looked up; he had reached the top floor, the thirty-third floor.

It was windy on all sides here, with no blocking walls, only a few bare load-bearing steel bars standing upright.

Underfoot was rough concrete flooring, and overhead was an unfinished ceiling.

The high-altitude wind carried a chill, pouring in without any obstruction and whistling loudly.

The red aviation light on the distant television signal tower blinked rhythmically, like a prying devil's eye.

Fang Cheng stood at the edge of the rooftop, his clothes fluttering in the night wind.

That blue shoulder bag was dropped by a pillar nearby.

From time to time, he raised his hand to check his watch, and sometimes paced back and forth. The rustling sound of his soles rubbing against the ground was particularly harsh in the silence.

Impatience, unease, all sorts of emotions were undoubtedly displayed on his face, making him look completely defenseless.

Ghost Sickle hid in the shadow behind a load-bearing pillar.

To avoid being detected by the other party, he deliberately maintained a distance of more than fifty meters.

He pressed his earpiece and lowered his voice to report the situation:

"Night Owl, I am in position. The target is on the top floor of the tallest building in the eastern suburb's unfinished building area. The contact person has not appeared yet."

"Received, keep an eye on him."

Night Owl's voice came from the earpiece:

"Wait until you confirm the identity of the contact person before making a move. If there is a chance, it is best to capture him alive."

Ghost Sickle narrowed his eyes, preparing to adjust his viewing angle.

Suddenly, Fang Cheng, who had been pacing back and forth, stopped abruptly.

As if sensing something, his body stiffened and he turned around.

His gaze pierced straight at the load-bearing pillar where Ghost Sickle was hiding, and his voice trembled slightly with tension:

"Who?! Who is there?"

Ghost Sickle's heart skipped a beat.

So far away? And with such strong wind, he could actually hear it?

Is he bluffing? Or is this guy's hearing really this sharp?

Ghost Sickle did not move, holding his breath, locking his muscles all over, and reducing his presence to the lowest.

"Come out! I saw you!"

Fang Cheng's voice rose a few octaves, sounding somewhat like putting up a bold front.

In a panic, he pulled out a black semi-automatic pistol from his lower back.

Holding it tightly with both hands, the muzzle trembled as it pointed towards Ghost Sickle's side, and his steps moved forward tentatively.

"If you do not come out... I am going to shoot!"

The atmosphere was tense to the extreme.

"Bang!"

A gunshot suddenly exploded.

The bullet hit the edge of the load-bearing pillar, chipping off a few pieces of rubble with flying sparks.

Ghost Sickle's eyes turned cold.

Since he was exposed, there was no need to hide anymore.

He slowly stepped out from the shadows, patted the stone chips on his shoulders, and looked at the terrified young man:

"Your ears are quite sharp."

"I originally wanted to let you live a few more minutes, but since you are in such a rush to seek death, I will grant your wish."

Looking at this strange black figure that suddenly appeared, Fang Cheng took half a step back involuntarily, his muzzle shaking even more violently:

"You... Who are you? What do you want?"

"I am a Level 2 Officer of the Special Investigation Team. If you dare to mess around, you will face official manhunts!"

"Specialist Fang of the Special Investigation Team?"

Ghost Sickle smiled softly, pressing forward step by step like cornering a rat:

"Where is the person meeting you? When will he arrive?"

"What contact person?"

Fang Cheng looked completely blank:

"I just heard from others that the scenery here is nice, and even though it is unfinished, you can see the night view of the whole city, so I came here to take photos and sightsee..."

"Ha..."

Ghost Sickle twitched the corner of his mouth, as if he had heard some cosmic joke.

Sightseeing in this ghost place in the middle of the night? Who are you kidding? Can you make up an even more absurd reason?

He stopped ten meters away from Fang Cheng, looking at him with playful eyes:

"Specialist Fang, there is no need to act anymore."

"Just now at the hotel entrance, I heard every word you and those two people said. If you do not want to die too miserably, you had better confess honestly."

Hearing this, the panic and blankness on Fang Cheng's face instantly vanished.

He adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, straightened his back a bit, and his expression turned serious:

"Since you know my identity and still dare to follow, you have quite some guts. Are you from Utopia?"

"You are not entirely stupid."

Ghost Sickle played with the dagger in his hand, a bloodthirsty arc curving at the corner of his mouth:

"This is a great place for murder. If I take care of you here and throw you downstairs, who would know we did it?"

Fang Cheng tightened his grip on the gun and asked, pretending to be calm:

"It seems you have figured out my background very well?"

"Good that you understand."

Ghost Sickle urged impatiently:

"Hand over that person's identity and the operational intelligence of the Special Investigation Team in Tiannan Province, and I can consider leaving you an intact corpse."

Fang Cheng fell silent upon hearing this.

Seeming to undergo an intense ideological struggle, after a moment, he suddenly asked:

"Did you come here to capture Fang Shijie through me?"

As soon as these words came out, Ghost Sickle's pupils shrank slightly.

Even Night Owl on the other end of the earpiece had his breathing instantly freeze for a second.

"Fang Shijie is really not dead!"

Night Owl's voice then sounded excitedly in the earpiece:

"I guessed right. The Special Investigation Team really colluded with that batch of traitors back then. They must be plotting something behind our Utopia's back."

"Ghost Sickle, hold him down and get Fang Shijie's whereabouts out of him first!"

Ghost Sickle understood tacitly.

Since the other party had already laid their cards on the table, he stopped hiding and said coldly:

"That is right, our target is that traitor."

While speaking, he quietly turned the earpiece volume to the maximum.

Then, his tone deliberately slowed down with a hint of coaxing:

"As long as you tell me his current situation and the details of his cooperation with the Special Investigation Team, I can call the shots and spare your life."

"Heh..."

Fang Cheng let out a sneer, a look of grief and indignation on his face:

"Since you have checked my file and know Fang Shijie is my father, you still say something like that?"

"Do you take me for a fool? Betraying my biological father, such a shameless thing is something I could never do, no matter how afraid of death I am!"

"You can choose not to speak."

Ghost Sickle's dagger flashed a cold glint in the night, threatening:

"But I have plenty of ways to make you speak. Once my knife slices off your flesh piece by piece, even a man of iron will have to beg for mercy."

"Besides..."

His eyes were gloomy, his voice like a venomous snake spitting its tongue:

"Fang Shijie will show up himself soon anyway. I can completely solve both of you together and send you father and son to reunite below!"

Fang Cheng's face turned pale, seemingly frightened by these words.

Stumbling backward while waving his gun around, he shouted:

"Why? Why must you force me?!"

"Back then, it was clearly you people from Utopia who framed my father and leaked his whereabouts, which led to him being captured by the Special Investigation Team, and now you are still chasing him relentlessly!"

"What did you say?"

Ghost Sickle couldn't help but be stunned.

Fang Cheng, as if grabbing a straw, gritted his teeth and said:

"If you tell me the traitor who leaked my father's name and framed him back then... I am willing to cooperate with you!"

"Even, I can tell you the details of the Special Investigation Team's secret operations against Utopia!"

Hearing this, Ghost Sickle paused slightly.

In the earpiece, Night Owl's voice became somewhat hurried:

"That matter back then is a taboo in the organization. This kid actually knows such secrets?"

"It seems Fang Shijie really has contact with him. Ghost Sickle, agree to him first and keep him steady."

"I am rushing over at full speed. We must capture Fang Shijie alive!"

Ghost Sickle's eyes flickered, and then looking at Fang Cheng, he spoke:

"How can I believe you?"

Fang Cheng showed an innocent look:

"My father was also controlled by drugs used by the Special Investigation Team, and had no choice but to cooperate with them. He has always wanted to return to Utopia."

"As long as you are willing to hand over the person who harmed him back then so he can take revenge, he is willing to return to the organization with the intelligence."

This statement sounded reasonable and logical, and even Night Owl on the other end of the earpiece believed it somewhat.

Ghost Sickle pondered for a moment, put away all his Killing Intent, and put on an earnest look:

"So that is how it is. Since it is a misunderstanding, I am willing to believe you."

"However... I just joined Utopia not long ago and do not know much about what happened back then."

He spread his hands and started making empty promises:

"But I can reveal a little bit: there are not many old members left after the purge back then, just those few people."

"Why do you not tell me the intelligence first to show sincerity? I give you my personal guarantee that once I return to the organization, I will definitely help you find out the person who framed your father. How about that?"

Hearing this, the expression on Fang Cheng's face instantly froze.

He lowered his head, his eyes flickering behind his lenses as if weighing the pros and cons.

A few seconds later, he sighed, his tone filled with deep regret:

"That is truly a pity..."

"What?"

Ghost Sickle was stunned for a moment, not yet reacting to the meaning of these words.

The next second.

Fang Cheng's previously trembling wrist and muzzle suddenly locked like precision machinery.

Bang bang bang bang—

Four gunshots almost merged into a single line.

This was not a random shooting.

The moment he pulled the trigger, Fang Cheng's wrist shook at a high frequency and extreme speed incomprehensible to ordinary people, swinging the muzzle through an eerie arc.

Four bullets left the chamber, actually tracing four distinct death arcs in the air.

They locked onto Ghost Sickle's glabella, throat, heart, and lower abdomen respectively!

"Ghost Shooting!"

Empowered by up to 64 points of agility and dynamic vision, this Gun Fu was so fast that opponents had no time to think.

Replaced by any ordinary Awakened, they would have turned into a sieve by now.

But Ghost Sickle was, after all, a well-known ace assassin of Black Shark, possessing the intuition of someone walking on the edge of life and death for a long time.

The instant Fang Cheng's gaze changed, his body instinctively made an ultra-limit reaction.

Whoosh!

His entire body seemed boneless, folding backward in an extremely distorted posture.

At the same time, his feet exerted force, stomping a spiderweb-like crack into the ground as his figure moved sideways like lightning.

Swish swish swish!

Three bullets grazed past his nose tip, collar, and waist, stirring up scorching airflow.

But the last bullet, carrying an eerie arc, predicted his landing spot as if it had grown eyes.

"Snap!"

A crisp sound.

Ghost Sickle only felt a coolness on his left ear, followed by a burning sensation.

That bullet precisely grazed past his hair, knocking away the communication earpiece hanging on his auricle.

Ghost Sickle lightly tipped his toes, leaping more than ten meters to the left. Standing firm again, his eyes were full of astonishment:

"Arc shooting method?! You are not a civilian staff!"

This was simply not a technique that ordinary agents could master.

This was top-tier Gun Fu forged in a hail of bullets.

"Heh, trying to kill me with mere Marksmanship? You are too naive!"

Ghost Sickle immediately sneered, still maintaining a calm posture, while the Killing Intent around him suddenly surged.

Fang Cheng did not press the attack.

He just stood in place and lowered his arms.

"Click."

The magazine was emptied, and the slide locked back.

The pistol was thrown to the ground, making a crisp metal clashing sound.

"Civilian staff?"

Fang Cheng removed the gold-rimmed glasses from the bridge of his nose, snapped them in half casually, and held them in his palm.

The muscles on his arms vaguely bulged.

He raised his head, staring closely at the mole resembling a flesh tumor on Ghost Sickle's forehead.

His originally clear and gentle eyes were now as gloomy as an abyss, and a horrifying red glow burned deep within his pupils.

"Sort of."

Fang Cheng twisted his neck, and his cervical spine let out a series of popping sounds like bursting beans.

"After all, I also quite like reasoning. But since reasoning does not work..."

Rip—

Accompanied by the mournful sound of tearing fabric.

The loose gray jacket on Fang Cheng's body, along with the shirt inside, burst open without warning.

Fragments fluttered like butterflies, revealing bare muscles.

What kind of physique was that!

In Ghost Sickle's astonished gaze, Fang Cheng's originally thin-looking figure rapidly expanded as if being inflated.

Muscle fibers like twisted steel cables frantically bulged and hardened under the skin in bunches.

Pectoral muscles, back muscles, deltoids...

Every muscle was sharp-angled, glowing with a dark golden luster, resembling a living demon god statue.

A terrifying high temperature erupted from within his body, steaming up golden heatwaves and distorting the surrounding air.

Fang Cheng stood bare-chested, like a towering deity, standing tall on the top floor of the high-rise in the biting cold wind.

He clenched his fists at the dumbfounded Ghost Sickle, the corners of his mouth splitting into a grim smile:

"Then we will just have to... convince you physically."