Gao Wu: I inherited the evil organization in the game

Chapter 615 Two gifts? I want them both!!!

The special envoy carefully controlled his stiff tongue, as if pushing a mountain, slowly pushing the bead out of his mouth little by little.

In ancient times, even the legendary Yu Gong who moved mountains probably didn't go through as much trouble as he did.

"Pfft...cough..."

The saliva-covered Corrosion Bead was finally spat out of the special envoy's mouth.

The tall old man seemed to have expected this, and with a flick of his wrist, he caught it steadily.

He didn't even bother to wipe them clean, and simply stuffed the wet beads back into his shirt pocket.

Then, he suddenly loosened his grip on the other person's throat.

"Pfft!"

The special envoy, like a lump of mud that had completely lost its bones, crashed heavily back to the ground.

His injuries were actually not that serious, but he felt as if his muscles and skin had been ripped out, and his limbs were so weak that he could not stand up at all.

He coughed and gagged violently, as if he were vomiting out his very soul.

His face, which had been deathly pale from suffocation, was now flushed crimson, his temples throbbed wildly, and his vision blurred.

Humiliation, fear, and despair welled up from every pore of his body, consuming all his strength.

The tall, elderly man looked down at the special envoy's distorted and devastated face, and let out a sneer through his nose:
"Just as you said, Young Master Kuangyan, you don't value other people's lives, but you value your own life very much. In the end, you don't have the guts to perish with us."

"In the end, Young Master Kuang Yan is nothing more than a spoiled child, a good-for-nothing who doesn't even know his own worth."

The special envoy collapsed to the ground, trembling violently.

He seemed about to explode with anger.

He tilted his head back, staring intently at the tall old man, his Adam's apple bobbing, but he could only manage to squeeze out a few repetitive syllables from his trembling lips:
"You...you...you..."

He wanted to ask: How did you know? How do you know everything?

Knowing his trump card, and also knowing his... cowardice?!

The tall, elderly man looked down at the special envoy, clearly knowing what the other wanted to ask. A strange smile appeared on his face as he said:

"Young Master Kuang Yan, there's no need to be surprised."

"Not just you, all your younger siblings are completely transparent to their older brothers and sisters. Isn't that normal?"

The special envoy was struck dumb, frozen in place, even his trembling stopped.

"In the older brother's eyes, are his younger siblings invisible?!"

He was horrified, realizing for the first time in his life the terror hidden behind the word "brother".

His psychological defenses, along with his dignity, were completely trampled and shattered.

He knelt on the ground, hugged the tall old man's leg, and said with tears streaming down his face:

"I know I was wrong. Go back and tell my brother that I'll be a good little brother from now on, and I'll never think about going to the city again, I..."

As it turns out, even the special envoy's knees were weak.

Even the evolution of noble bloodlines will not erase the instinct to kneel deep within one's genes.

The tall old man stood to one side, not daring to let the special envoy kneel before him.

There must be a proper order between superiors and inferiors.

He slowly squatted down, his black fingernails supporting the special envoy's head, and said in a sinister tone:

"Tell us, where did you hide the parchment scroll?"

The special envoy stammered:

"If I give you the parchment, will you let me go?"

The tall, elderly man seemed not to hear the special envoy's pleas, and simply repeated the question:

"Where—are you?"

The special envoy scrambled to his feet in a panic, staggering as he ran outside, his voice trembling as he said:

"I've hidden myself, I'll take you to find me, I'll take you to find me right now..."

The extreme fear of despair made the special envoy seem to have forgotten even his martial arts skills. He looked like an ordinary person who had been scared out of his wits, and stumbled and ran towards the well.

The tall old man sighed softly, a hint of impatience flashing between his brows.

With a slight sway, he covered more than ten meters in an instant, his withered right palm heavily imprinted on the special envoy's back.

"puff--"

The special envoy spat out blood, which flew through the air like a tattered sack, tracing an arc of more than ten meters before crashing heavily back to the ground.

He struggled to support himself on the ground with one hand, only to find a sticky...black blood that had congealed in a large patch beneath him.

This wasn't blood spurted out by the special envoy, this was...

"No need to trouble Young Master Kuang Yan, just tell us the exact location, and we'll go get it ourselves..."

The tall, elderly man drew out his words as he slowly approached.

Suddenly, he froze, a hint of surprise flashing in his cloudy eyes.

The hunched old man following behind also paused, his cloudy gaze fixed on the pool of blood beneath the special envoy, his forehead, like withered tree bark, deeply furrowed.

strange!
There should have been a corpse lying here before, right where the special envoy is now.

No, how did such a large corpse of mine disappear?
Where did the body go?

The hunched old man's brows furrowed, and he looked at the tall old man in a hoarse voice:

"The person isn't dead?"

The tall, elderly man's face was ashen, and his fingers unconsciously clenched.

"Absolutely impossible."

The hunchbacked old man:
"So someone dragged the body away?"

The tall old man suddenly grabbed the special envoy by the collar, and the two of them looked down at the ground at the same time.

Amidst the congealed, filthy blood, several blurry, crooked bloody footprints and two crooked handprints remained, winding their way into the depths of darkness.

The two handprints are different sizes, one deep and one shallow; one is a mechanical prosthetic limb, and the other is a flesh and blood hand.

There were absolutely no signs of dragging; it looked as if... the dead body had crawled out of the pool of blood on its own and then run away without looking back.

The tall old man looked astonished: "What the hell? Could it be that he's not really dead?"

A chilling, eerie smile spread across his face as he looked down at the special envoy and said in a sinister tone:
"Your attendant is not only disloyal, but also very problematic. Can you explain to me what exactly is going on with him?"

The hunchbacked old man did not stay where he was; instead, he shot off like an arrow into the well.

The special envoy was dumbfounded, his mind blank: "???" How could he know why Feng Ju hadn't died? If he knew how Feng Ju had escaped death, why would he be kneeling and begging for mercy now?
damn it.
How exactly did Feng Ju manage to escape with his life from those two old men? I really want to copy their methods!

...........
The thick darkness, like ink that cannot be dissolved, provided perfect cover for the shadowy figures peering into the shadows.

At the other end of the shaft, behind the collapsed concrete blocks and twisted steel bars half-buried in the rubble cracks, Ma Bin's body was pressed tightly against the cold, damp pipe wall, his breathing so weak it was almost inaudible.

Through the natural viewing hole formed by the pile of rubble, he could see the life-and-death drama unfolding inside the well.

Right at his feet, a pool of shadow rippled silently like water, gradually solidifying into a blurry human silhouette.

"This is the play you invited me to see late at night? Listening to them discuss how to kill someone, and then... throwing mud at me?"

The speaker's face was covered by a mask as white as bone, with only two thin slits at the eyes, inside which were a pair of eerie eyes.

His pupils were scarlet, with black and white magatama within them, spinning silently like two bottomless whirlpools, exuding a chillingly evil aura.

Ma Bin's lips curved upwards very slightly, and his voice was very low:

"Who said they framed you? They were clearly trying to frame [Masked]."

Seemingly amused by Ma Bin's humor, a cheerful laugh came from behind the mask:

"You're right, haha—"

Ma Bin habitually adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and continued:
"However, those two old geezers have quite a few schemes up their sleeves."

They were deliberately talking loudly in the well, clearly not just to the special envoy, but also to us.

They're using the special envoy as bait to provoke the "masked" figure who might be lurking in the shadows, so they can capture you and the parchment scroll in one fell swoop and send them back to their master to claim credit and reward them."

A faint laugh came again from beneath the mask, and the spinning magatama seemed to brighten even more, "observing" Ma Bin with great interest:

"Interesting. So, these two old geezers are the 'big fish' you've been trying so hard to catch?"

Ma Bin shook his head and then nodded, smiling:

"This is also a gift I prepared for you, but it's not for those two old guys, they're not qualified. It's for the master who ordered them to do things."

His voice became even lower and more cheerful.
"As long as these two old geezers are here today, successfully kill the special envoy, take the parchment, and complete their 'mission'..."

So, in the near future, their masters will pack themselves up and become a great gift from fate to us.

Ma Bin preferred intrigue and scheming to fighting and killing.

He has never been one to use brute force to oppress others. Instead, he is obsessed with laying subtle clues to lead his prey step by step to submit to [fate] without their knowledge, until they become the most devout believers.

There's no way around it, people with squinty eyes are often cunning, especially those who like to wear gold-rimmed glasses.

Ma Bin's gaze drifted into the distance, landing on the tearful special envoy. His face remained impassive as he said:

"Actually, at first, I only had my eye on the special envoy, but I really didn't expect him to be so successful and attract a bigger fish."

This is a truly unexpected and delightful surprise! Praise be to fate!

For this very reason, Ma Bin would never have blown up the special envoy; on the contrary, he would have warned the special envoy.

He would rather blow up Feng Ju, which might displease his superiors, than blow up the special envoy.

This gift will only have value if the special envoy dies at the hands of "specific people".

In fact, Ma Bin's concerns were completely unfounded. Even if he really did blow up Feng Ju, Feng Mu would never blame him.

Feng Mu naturally understood the purpose of Ma Bin's explanation to him, and a faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth behind the mask.

Ma Bin could sense that Feng Mu was emotionally stable, so he continued:

"Of course, I've also considered the possibility that the special envoy might survive, or even kill those two old guys, which would be fine too."

That proves that the special envoys have even greater potential and are a more worthwhile investment.

Regardless of who ultimately survives, Ma Bin will send a precious gift to the future Feng Mu as planned.

The only problem is that if the special envoy does survive, Ma Bin might face some trouble later.

After all, if the special envoy doesn't die today, the operation to silence him will inevitably continue.

However, Ma Bin did not intend to tell Feng Mu any more about these trivial details.

They were all trivial matters.

If a precious gift can be created by watering blood, what does it matter if a few people die?
In other words, Li Xiang can die, the Green Wolf Gang can be destroyed, and even Ma Bin himself, there is nothing he cannot die for.

If one dies a worthy and meaningful death, then death is merely returning to the embrace of fate.

Ma Bin had this awareness, and he believed that Li Xiang and the others should have it too. As brothers who had shared life and death, he was willing to make this decision for them.

Feng Mu, of course, was unaware that Ma Bin had secretly prepared for death. He simply watched the drama unfolding in the well and murmured:

"Since they are sincerely calling for me, do you think I should go out and show my face?"

Ma Bin naturally wouldn't make decisions for his superior; he smiled calmly.
"This is a gift I want to give you. Of course, I want you to like it, so you can choose whichever one you prefer."

The subtext is that if Feng Mu "prefers" the special envoy and is willing to intervene, then Ma Bin will listen to Feng Mu, even though the price behind it could very well be Ma Bin's own life.

He had no regrets, and he didn't even tell Feng Mu.

The choice lies with the person above, while bearing the consequences of that choice is their responsibility as the person below.

Feng Mu's gaze never fell on Ma Bin.

He stared indifferently into the deep well, the magatama in his pupils spinning faster and faster, his shadow winding forward silently like a living thing.

Feng Mu's figure suddenly blurred, and he disappeared from the spot before he finished speaking:
"Since these are gifts you prepared so carefully, how can I choose only one and give up the other?"

The air seemed to freeze for a moment, then only a metallic echo lingered in Ma Bin's mind:
I like both gifts very much, so I'll accept them both!

His voice carried an all-consuming greed and an unquestionable domineering arrogance.

Ma Bin's usually stagnant heart was suddenly stirred by a slight ripple: "..."

As for the person giving the gift, I only intend to give one gift, but you want to receive two?

It was truly, inexplicably shocking!
It's a feeling of being moved!

The problem is, I only have one gift, so how can you receive two?
..........
The tall old man slowly squatted down and pressed his dark fingernail against the special envoy's Adam's apple, which he dared not move.

The nails were jet black, gleaming with a cold, eerie light, and a chilling aura easily seeped through the skin and into the throat.

The special envoy felt as if his trachea had been frozen instantly, and every breath felt like swallowing ice shards, with a cold pain piercing straight from his throat to his lungs.

Then I heard the tall, old man's eerie voice echoing in my ears:

"Young Master Kuang Yan, if you really don't want to say where the parchment is, then there's no need to say it."

"We'll find it eventually if we put in the effort, don't you think?"

As he spoke, his other hand lightly landed on the special envoy's shoulder, its five fingers like poisoned iron hooks.

At the same time, in the darkness behind him, a wriggling shadow was silently slithering towards him from the ground...
(End of this chapter)