Start with push-ups to gain experience

Dusk.

The sunset painted the entire Old Factory Street a warm orange hue.

This is the busiest time of day in the old town.

Workers riding their electric scooters after get off work honked their horns as they weaved through the narrow alleys.

Children, carrying their schoolbags, chased and played in small groups after school.

The fried food stalls on the street had just been set up, but business hadn't started yet; they were waiting for it to get completely dark.

The windows of several floors of the tenement building were open, and the sounds of woks and spatulas sizzling as people cooked could be heard incessantly.

The rich smell of cooking oil, mixed with the aroma of soy sauce, scallions, and ginger, rushed upwards all at once.

Top floor, room 908.

In stark contrast to the bustling scene downstairs filled with the aroma of cooking, this place was eerily quiet.

The room was dark and oppressive, with the lights off.

The last rays of the setting sun shone through the gaps in the curtains, casting long, narrow streaks of light on the floor.

Apart from that, there was only a deep shadow.

Fang Cheng sat alone, cross-legged in the center of the floor.

He was shirtless, and his muscular physique sculpted in the dim light.

With each breath, his chest rose and fell slightly, and his whole body exuded an indescribable, calm and imposing aura.

The setting sun shone directly on half of his profile, outlining his features in a half-light, half-shadow.

Like a half-open, half-closed statue in a temple, it exudes a chilling majesty.

Fang Cheng was meditating, adjusting his breathing, and calming his heartbeat.

Try to get every nerve and muscle in your body into its optimal standby state.

Just then, a tiny red light suddenly appeared on the miniature earpiece hanging on the ear, breaking the silence in the room.

"Calling the president, this is the 'Eagle Eye' surveillance outpost."

A deep voice came through the headset, with a slight electrical hum and keyboard typing in the background.

"The target area, the area around Building No. 4 on Jiuchang Street, has been under surveillance for eight hours."

"As of now, no high-threat targets or suspicious persons have been found to have entered the warning area, and the environmental security level is level three."

That was the sound of a monkey, its words revealing a professional and capable quality.

Immediately afterward, another slightly rough voice squeezed in, tinged with anxiety:

"President, this is Da Chui. I've been wandering around downstairs for most of the day, and apart from a few scrap collectors and food deliverymen, I haven't seen any suspicious people."

"Could those bastards have already spotted us? Should we change our stakeout spot? I think that scrap yard across the street is good, it has a good view..."

Fang Cheng slowly opened his eyes.

In an instant, a light seemed to flash in the dimly lit room.

Two beams of light, as solid as electricity, shot out from his pupils.

"continue."

His voice was calm, yet it carried an inexplicable power.

"Take it easy. The most important quality for a member of the Illuminati is patience."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the headset, followed by a synchronized reply from both of them:
"Yes, President!"

Communication was cut off, and the headset fell silent once again.

Fang Cheng's meditation was interrupted, and he did not continue.

He stood up and looked out at the distant view through the gap in the curtains.

The setting sun slowly sank into the city's forest of high-rise buildings, burning the clouds on the horizon crimson, like clumps of congealed blood.

The shadows are spreading rapidly across the land, devouring the last of the light.

"It's getting dark..."

Fang Cheng muttered to himself, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

He then turned and went into the bedroom.

Several items were neatly arranged on the bed.

Fang Cheng walked to the bedside and picked up a black semi-automatic pistol.

The gun was cold and heavy, gleaming with the cold light characteristic of metal.

This was the very trophy he had seized from the pursuer.

Although it hasn't been used for almost half a year, it's still in perfect condition thanks to long-term maintenance.

"Old friend, it's time for you to make your appearance again."

Fang Cheng ran his fingers lightly over the gun barrel, feeling its cold, hard texture, and his eyes became somewhat deep.

"Click."

He skillfully removed the magazine, inspected the gleaming yellow bullets, and only after confirming that the firing pin and recoil spring were completely free of obstruction did he reload the magazine.

He then tucked the pistol into the quick-draw holster on his lower back and pulled down the hem of his T-shirt to cover it.

After finishing all this, Fang Cheng began to pack up the canvas bag next to him.

A plain gray tracksuit, a pair of easy-to-move silver-gray running shoes, and a striking red pair of underwear.

He carefully folded each item and stuffed them into his bag one by one.

These are all preparations for tonight's operation, to deal with special situations, and to avoid the embarrassing situation of being naked as before.

Next, there was a dark blue ID card.

Fang Cheng took it in his hand and examined it carefully.

The card is well-made, with a gold shield and crossed saber badge printed on the front.

Below is a line of eye-catching text:
[Zhou Liang, Second-Level Administrative Officer, East City Detective Division, Special Affairs Investigation Team].

This item is also a crucial part of tonight's plan.

Fang Cheng carefully placed the documents into the side pocket of the canvas bag.

Then there was a brown kraft paper folder, inside which were several A4 sheets of paper covered with dense text.

It was stamped with a red "Top Secret" seal, looking very serious, as if it were some really important confidential document.

Finally, his hand stopped on a mask.

It was a white demon mask, with hideous and terrifying features and exposed fangs.

Two ruby-like lenses were set in the eye sockets, shimmering with an eerie light in the dim light.

Fang Cheng stared at the mask for a few seconds, a sinister smile curving his lips:

"I hope I won't need you tonight..."

He tucked the mask into the bottom of the bag, zipped it up, and walked out of the bedroom carrying the bulging canvas bag.

Upon arriving in the living room, Fang Cheng did not rush to take action.

He walked up to the old-fashioned refrigerator, reached out and opened the door, and a blast of cold air hit him.

Take out two one-liter cartons of pure milk and four pieces of raw steak.

I have no intention of cooking.

Fang Cheng tore open the steak packaging and put the raw meat, still bloody, directly into his mouth.

"Guji... Guji..."

The sickening sound of chewing echoed in the quiet room.

His teeth were as sharp as knives, easily tearing through the tough fibers of raw beef.

Bright red blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, but Fang Cheng didn't care and continued to swallow it in large gulps.

This way of eating is neither elegant nor civilized.

Instead, it exudes a primal and savage aura, like a humanoid beast feasting.

He quickly finished swallowing four thick-cut steaks, then tore open a milk carton and drank it all in one gulp.

As a large amount of high-calorie food entered his stomach, Fang Cheng could feel his stomach churning wildly.

It's like a highly efficient biological furnace, rapidly converting these foods into the purest form of energy and delivering it to every part of the body.

My body felt slightly warm, and energy surged through my veins.

After finishing his meal, Fang Cheng wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and let out a long breath.

There's a tough battle to fight tonight, so I need to make sure my body is at full energy.

Therefore, apart from meditation, he did not schedule any physical exercise throughout the afternoon.

Since we can't level up anytime soon anyway, the most important thing now is to adjust our mindset and go all out for the battle.

Looking around at the dimly lit and quiet house, Fang Cheng's eyes narrowed slightly.

My mother had already been sent away by me under some pretext to take care of my grandfather in Wanghu Town, so I no longer had any worries about her here.

However, Fang Cheng still chose to return from Haitian Garden to Jiuchang Street.

Tonight's inevitable drama cannot escape his control.

He wanted to be the sole director, personally intervening in the timeline of fate and guiding the entire plot.

To be honest, even without Lin Chuqiao using her prophetic abilities to warn him in advance, Fang Cheng had originally planned to return to live on Old Factory Street.

Because tomorrow is Sunday, Zhou Xiumei will be participating in the audition for a singing competition, and Wen Xin will also be going to cheer her on.

Fang Cheng had previously promised Zhou Xiumei that he would be her personal driver and cheerleader, and would drive them to the competition venue early tomorrow morning.

If you do nothing and let things develop as they are,

I'm afraid everything will really turn out just as Lin Chuqiao saw it.

A violent explosion occurred in the tenement building, with flames shooting into the sky and thick smoke billowing out.

Not only will Zhou Xiumei, who lives next door, be in danger, but all the neighbors in the building, including Wen Xin, will also suffer.

These two girls were his Achilles' heel and his Achilles' heel.

He absolutely would not allow anything to go wrong here.

Therefore, he had to come back to take charge.

Since danger is inevitable, he will personally resolve and crush it, completely changing the outcome.

Fang Cheng walked to the window and stood in a blind spot from which he could not be seen from the outside.

He reached out and parted the curtains, his gaze coldly fixed on the pedestrians coming and going on the street below.

Information about the enemy resurfaced in his mind.

Based on the images Lin Chuqiao predicted, the assassin was extremely fast, either possessing the superpower to create explosions or carrying lethal weapons such as bombs.

Fang Cheng speculated that the other party was most likely an agile superhuman, skilled in assassination and sabotage.

Moreover, they are mostly flamboyant or crazy, otherwise they wouldn't have caused such a commotion in the downtown area.

Fang Cheng had already made up his mind and had a plan.

"Never engage in combat with them inside the building."

These old, dilapidated tenement buildings are structurally fragile and cannot withstand high-intensity combat, let alone the impact of an explosion.

Once a fight breaks out, it's like being in a living coffin.

We must lure the other party away first, to a place more suitable for a big fight.

This was done not only for the safety of relatives and friends, but also to avoid further exposure of their identities and attracting the attention of the authorities and special investigation teams.

Of course, besides the overt plan of "luring the snake out of its hole," Fang Cheng also had a covert plan to carry out.

He wanted to ensure that the entire situation was completely under his control.

They could even use this opportunity to obtain the intelligence they want and achieve their true goals.

Thinking of this, Fang Cheng picked up his phone and dialed a number.

The phone beeped twice and was quickly connected.

"Are you ready?"

Fang Cheng asked in a low voice.

A slightly flippant voice came from the other end of the phone:

"Boss, everything is OK. The actors and props are ready and waiting for you to arrive."

"very good."

Fang Cheng nodded slightly and hung up the phone.

His gaze returned to the window.

By this time, it had already gotten dark.

The streetlights gradually came on, enveloping the old factory street in a dim, yellowish glow.

....................................

at the same time.

Across from the tenement building, on the second floor of "Old Wang's Auto Repair Shop".

This is a small warehouse full of miscellaneous items, but it has been temporarily converted into a makeshift monitoring room.

Several laptops sat on a dilapidated table, their screens flashing with various surveillance feeds and fluctuating data streams.

The monkey was sitting cross-legged in the chair, staring intently at the screen.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, skillfully manipulating the makeshift monitoring system.

When Monkey first arrived here in the morning, he had already used his hacking skills to silently infiltrate several old security cameras on the street and even installed several hidden miniature cameras.

In this way, every rustle of wind and movement within a radius of 500 meters can be seen clearly.

And at the street corner.

A tall, muscular man was squatting by the roadside, with a cardboard sign in front of him that read "Professional moving, strong."

This person is none other than Big Hammer.

He looked like an ordinary porter, casually fiddling with something that resembled an old-fashioned radio.

Actually, it was a modified military-grade "signal detector".

This thing can detect abnormal communication signal fluctuations within a certain range and transmit the data in real time to the monitoring room in the attic, where monkeys listen to and analyze it.

Because it is a portable model, its detection range is relatively small, only about tens of meters.

Therefore, the sledgehammer needs to get up and move around from time to time, pretending to look for jobs or buy things, but in reality, it is to expand the search radius.

This was the monkey's idea.

As an expert with a background in special reconnaissance, Monkey insists that a combination of "human defense" and "technical defense" is the safest approach.

Although Big Hammer doesn't understand technical issues, he is obedient and has strong execution skills, making him the perfect candidate to serve as a motion detection node.

"Zizi..."

In the quiet room, a faint hum of electricity could be heard.

The monkey suddenly narrowed its eyes, leaned forward, and stared intently at a corner of the screen.

"President, something's up."

He reported in a deep voice through the earpiece, his tone suddenly becoming serious:

“There was a man wearing a ‘gas company’ uniform who seemed rather suspicious. He was about 1.75 meters tall, rather thin, and wearing a baseball cap pulled down low.”

"It's not clear whether there's a mole on the forehead, but the facial features, the beard... match the characteristics described by Ms. Lin very closely."

“He was carrying a toolbox and stopped in front of ‘Li’s Steamed Bun Shop’ on the east side of the tenement building, chatting with the owner.”

"It's too far away, I can't hear the details."

Fang Cheng stood at the window on the ninth floor.

Although the location offers a commanding view, the view is blocked by the awning below, preventing any direct observation of the steamed bun shop.

He pressed the headset and calmly issued the instructions:
"Received. Continue monitoring, but do not act rashly."

"I'll go over and take a look."

Then, Da Chui's honest yet urgent voice came through the headset.

"Be careful not to reveal your identity."

The monkey reminded him:
"If that guy is an alien, his senses might be very sharp."

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. I'm just going to buy a basket of steamed buns and listen in on the way."

After Da Chui finished speaking, he stood up and dusted off his backside.

He looked hungry and swayed as he walked towards the steamed bun shop. (End of Chapter)