Start with push-ups to gain experience

Fang Cheng waited quietly.

After a moment, a noisy background sound came through the headset.

That was the sound of steam rising from the steamer and the clamor of the crowd.

Immediately following was a broken conversation, interspersed with chewing sounds:
"Boss... give me a basket of beef-filled buns too, to go..."

"Alright, wait a minute, brother."

"Boss, your business is doing great... By the way, can I ask you something?"

"Is there a very strong young man named Fang living in that building over there?"

"I'm from the gas company... doing a routine pipeline inspection..."

"Oh, you mean Acheng? There is such a person. He often goes out for morning exercise and often 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 house... Thank you, boss..."

The sound was very faint, with a lot of background noise.

Clearly, Da Chui was also cautious, not getting too close, but simply recording it while waiting in line.

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

A moment later, Big Hammer's deliberately lowered voice came through as he reported:

"President, that guy seems to be heading towards the tenement building. I think something's definitely wrong with him!"

"How to say?"

Fang Cheng asked.

"His walking posture is wrong."

Big Hammer spoke with certainty, quickly making a judgment:
"Although he pretended to be very casual, I could tell that his heels were barely touching the ground and he was using the balls of his feet to generate power."

"In our area, this is called 'cat walk,' a habit only practitioners who have specially trained in light body kung fu have."

"And his toolbox... didn't look like it contained wrenches, pipe wrenches, or testing equipment; it was completely silent when he walked."

"I feel like it's filled with some heavy stuff."

Don't let Big Hammer's honest appearance fool you; he's shrewd and has a sharp eye.

"understood."

Upon hearing this, Fang Cheng's eyes flashed with a sharp light.

Although the color of the clothes was wrong and the mole on the forehead was not visible, the other features and behavior were basically correct.

"Big Hammer, Monkey, the target has been basically confirmed. Get ready and proceed according to the original plan."

"Yes!"

"Roger that!"

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

The next second, his senses expanded outward like a tidal wave, and he instantly entered a profound state of visualization.

The blazing sun in the inner world suddenly burst forth with boundless light.

Invisible golden threads, composed of pure spiritual power, spread outwards from him in all directions.

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

really.

In the darkness, he sensed a faint, extremely suppressed malice.

That malice was cold and sticky, like a venomous snake slithering in the shadows.

They were slowly moving up the stairs.

The objective was clear, and the intent to kill was palpable.

finally come!

It was faster than expected, but also much more cautious.

Moreover, through the feedback from his senses, Fang Cheng could confirm that the other party did not exhibit the kind of fluctuations unique to spiritual power.

He is definitely not a person with mental abilities!
Fang Cheng opened his eyes, a slight smile curving his lips.

Now that the guests have arrived, the host should go out to "greet" them.

Instead of waiting at home for the other person to come up, he quickly put away his headset and hid it in his pocket.

Then he took a large gray jacket from the hanger, put it on, zipped it up, and perfectly concealed his muscular physique.

Then, she took out a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, put them on, looked in the mirror, and smoothed the messy stray hairs on her forehead.

He nodded slightly in satisfaction and murmured to himself:

"Not bad looking..."

Finally, he picked up the canvas bag that had already been packed and slung it over his shoulder.

After doing all this, Fang Cheng calmly looked around to make sure nothing was missed before turning the doorknob and pushing the door open to go out.

"Click."

The security gate closed gently, sealing everything inside back into the newly fallen night.

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

The hallway was dimly lit.

Due to years of neglect, most of the motion sensor lights are broken.

Only the light from the residents' lights shining through the corridors of the building could barely illuminate the uneven cement steps underfoot.

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

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

The brim of his hat was pulled down so low that it almost covered most of his face.

He carried a worn-out toolbox on his shoulder and chewed gum absentmindedly.

He looks like an ordinary blue-collar worker.

But his footsteps were very light, so light that they were almost inaudible, like a feline roaming the night.

The middle-aged man climbed the stairs step by step.

He would deliberately stop at the corner of each floor.

He appeared to be adjusting the shoulder strap of his toolbox, but in reality, he was subtly scanning his surroundings out of the corner of his eye.

At the same time, his ears twitched slightly, trying to catch even the slightest sound in the hallway.

The evening news on TV, a child crying and making a fuss, a couple arguing...

A cacophony of sounds filled the night in this old residential building.

He listened for a few seconds, then, using the act of turning around as cover, quickly opened a crack in the toolbox.

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

Then, with lightning speed, he pressed the object into the crack of the peeling wall plaster at the corner.

Then, gently smooth it with your fingers to make it blend perfectly with the surrounding environment.

Unless you look closely, no one would notice these inconspicuous marks.

And so, layer after layer, he repeated the same behavior.

Compared to a gas company pipe repairman, he looked more like a decorator at this moment, meticulously repairing the flaws in the wall.

Just as he reached the corner of the sixth and a half floor and was about to go up to the seventh floor...

"Dengdengdeng..."

A series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from upstairs.

Someone's coming down!
The middle-aged man abruptly stopped chewing his gum, and his right hand instinctively reached for the side of the toolbox at his waist.

All the muscles in his body tensed instantly, like a fully drawn bow, seemingly ready to burst forth at any moment.

The footsteps grew closer, accompanied by a frustrated muttering to oneself:
"Damn it, how could I have left the documents at home... I'm going to be late now."

The voice sounded like that of a young man, revealing obvious anxiety and agitation.

The middle-aged man frowned slightly, but did not let his guard down.

He turned to the side, stood with his back against the wall, making way for half of the passage, and pulled his hat brim even lower.

next second.

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

He was a young man wearing a gray jacket, carrying a bulging blue canvas bag, and holding a stack of documents in his hand.

He ran while glancing down at the papers in his hand, his steps hurried, completely oblivious to what was ahead. The two met face to face in the narrow, dimly lit stairwell.

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

"Hey, be careful!"

The young man reacted quickly, exclaiming in surprise and immediately slamming on the brakes, his body jerking to one side.

Although she managed to avoid a head-on collision, her arm still lightly brushed against the middle-aged man's shoulder and clothes.

As his body swayed, the young man's hand trembled.

Wow.

The stack of documents he was holding suddenly scattered, and several sheets of paper fluttered to the ground.

A murderous glint flashed in the middle-aged man's eyes, and his fingers, hidden beside the toolbox, gripped the cold hilt of a knife.

If this young man acts even slightly strangely, or shows any signs of aggression...

He would act without hesitation and slit the other person's throat in a second.

however.

After regaining his balance, the young man immediately showed a hint of apology on his face and quickly apologized:
"Excuse me! Sir, did I bump into you? I was in a hurry and wasn't looking where I was going. I'm so sorry!"

His tone was sincere, and his expression was anxious.

He looked like a young office worker who was rushing and acting recklessly, with a completely harmless appearance.

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

It was a printed document, most of the content of which was obscured.

But the striking red seal at the top, along with the words "Special Search Team," "Top Secret," and "Operation Code Name" that were revealed, drew his attention like a magnet.

"The Special Investigations Team?!"

A question flashed through my mind.

Before he could even sort out his thoughts, an even more astonishing scene unfolded.

Just as the young man bent down to pick up the document and looked up...

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

At that moment, his pupils suddenly contracted to pinpoints.

The young man had handsome features and wore gold-rimmed glasses, which made him appear gentle and refined, with a scholarly air about him.

Her skin had a subtle, jade-like luster in the dim light, and one could even say it was as fair and tender as a young girl's.

More importantly, he seems to be... seemingly... the target of this operation.

only.

The young man before him had a completely different demeanor from the man described in the intelligence report as having "dark skin, being physically fit, and having a tough temperament."

What on earth is going on? Could they be twins?
The middle-aged man's heart skipped a beat, and the surging killing intent froze instantly, forcibly suppressed back into the depths of his eyes.

The young man seemed unaware of anything unusual about the "gas repairman" in front of him.

He quickly squatted down and hurriedly picked up the scattered documents from the ground, tidying them up.

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

After doing all this, he smiled at the middle-aged man:
"I'm so sorry, sir, I've startled you. I'll be going now, you go ahead with your work!"

"It's okay, just watch your step next time."

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

"Okay, please be careful."

The young man nodded politely, then squeezed past him, still holding the documents.

"and many more!"

Just then, a deep voice suddenly called out from behind.

The young man instinctively stopped and looked back.

But in that instant he turned around, the middle-aged man moved.

Whoosh!
too fast!
The hand that was originally hanging by the side was now shot out like a bullet.

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

This attack was so fierce and fast that it was almost invisible in the air.

If it were a trained martial artist or a person with keen senses, their body would instinctively react by blocking or retreating.

However, faced with this sudden and deadly attack, the young man seemed to have his reaction time cut off, standing still without moving.

That sharp gust of wind even ruffled the stray hairs on his forehead and stung his skin.

But in his clear eyes, there was nothing but deep confusion.

There was no dodging, no fear, not even a blink of an eye.

That's the kind of dullness that only ordinary people who don't understand combat and have no sense of danger would have.

Just a hair's breadth from when his finger was about to touch the young man's nose.

The middle-aged man twisted his wrist in a strange way, and the deadly claws instantly transformed into gentle, delicate fingers.

Upon closer inspection, a thin sheet of white paper was now held between his fingertips.

All the murderous intent and fierce wind vanished in that instant, 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 before speaking slowly, his tone so calm that it was impossible to detect a ripple of emotion.

The young man paused for a moment, then suddenly realized what he was doing and took it, saying with a face full of gratitude:
"Thank you so much! I was so careless. You're such a kind person, Master!"

"It's no trouble at all, let's go."

The middle-aged man waved his hand expressionlessly.

"Okay, see you next time! I'll definitely thank you properly!"

The young man stuffed the documents into his bag, nodded and smiled politely as he took his leave.

The middle-aged man stopped staring at him and went straight upstairs.

The two turned around at the same time, their backs to each other.

Almost simultaneously, a cold glint, barely perceptible to the other, flashed deep within their eyes, which had previously appeared either honest or calm.

The young man strode down the stairs like a gust of wind, muttering to himself:

"We need to hurry, Chief of Staff Ling is waiting for me to submit my report..."

The seemingly frail figure quickly disappeared into the shadows of the spiral staircase leading downwards.

As the footsteps quickly faded into the distance, the middle-aged man's eyes narrowed slightly, and he walked a few steps to the window in the stairwell.

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

He skillfully positioned himself sideways in a blind spot on the wall.

Under the cover of shadow, he squinted and stared intently at the entrance to the building below through the window frame.

After a few seconds.

The young man in the gray jacket rushed out of the building.

"Drip-"

On a roadside corner, a black SUV turned on its hazard lights at just the right moment.

The car door opened, and the young man quickly climbed in and sat directly in the driver's seat.

The middle-aged man chewed gum, his eyes filled with suspicion and confusion.

I have absolutely no idea what that "chance encounter" was all about.

He took a deep breath and forcefully suppressed the turmoil in his mind.

Then he raised his hand, pressed the tiny earpiece hidden beside his ear and concealed by his hair, and whispered:

"Night Owl, I'm with Suspect Number 2 now. The situation has changed."

"The target just left and got into a black SUV with license plate number DD90F38. It seems like he has some urgent business to attend to."

"I suspected his identity was questionable, so I didn't act rashly."

A brief static came through the headset, followed by a crisp voice:

"Ghost Scythe, follow them immediately."

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

"But this person is very strange..." (End of Chapter)