Miss Assassin is heavily addicted

Chapter 2.2. I have never experienced the leisurely and pleasant afternoon sunlight.

The next morning, at the entrance of Qingyuesen Apartment.

He Ye, carrying large and small bags, looked like a wanderer from the north. He flagged down the earliest taxi on the roadside, at a time when even the driver was yawning.

"Where to?" the driver asked, rolling down the window.

"The entrance to Lane 11 on North Street," He Ye said.

Although he decided to pack his things and leave last night, it was already midnight by the time He Ye finished packing. It was too late, so he had to stay in the house that no longer belonged to him for the night, huddled in the study and carefully imagined the future.

He envisioned a future where he would rent a single room in an apartment facing the sea, where spring is always in the air, find a comfortable 9-to-5 job with weekends off, greet the bakery's beauty before work each day, and arrive at the welfare home by bus or train with a newspaper in hand.

And now, we're taking the first step.

He Ye carried his luggage in both hands, like Tom the cat leaving home with his head held high, and put it into the back seat of the taxi.

Behind her, Ms. Yugiri, dressed in a black dress, resembled a black iris flower. She stood silently to the side and asked:

"When are you coming back, Leon?"

He Ye had gotten used to her unreliable nature. Although she was a national-level assassin, she was completely clueless about certain things, such as interpersonal relationships, social rules, cooking, formalities, and cryptic language.

Therefore, what is needed at this time is not an explanation, but a different way of responding.

Anyway, by the time she realized what was happening and tried to find him, he had already disappeared into the vast crowd, nowhere to be found.

"I'll be back on the 32nd of this month," He Ye said casually, climbing into the front seat of the taxi.

The middle-aged driver, gripping the steering wheel, glanced at He Ye, then at the beautiful and young Black Iris girl standing outside, already conjuring up a sad story of a one-night stand in his mind.

But he didn't say anything, he just clicked his tongue and sighed.

"Goodbye." Yugiri waved.

"Goodbye, Sophia," He Ye said softly, glancing in the rearview mirror.

As the street scene gradually receded into the distance, it seemed as if he had easily left Makang Street. He felt an indescribable sense of relief, but he still knew that things were not finished. He had to go see Mark to bury everything from the past.

"There's no 32 this month, Grandpa."

The driver, gripping the steering wheel, joked, with the air of someone who'd been there all along.

"Of course I know you're talking too much. Just get me safely to North Street, and you'll get your tip."

"You are so generous."

—The roadside of Lane 11, North Street—

After a while.

They had arrived at North Street. The taxi door opened, and He Ye got out, carrying his bags again. He suddenly felt that he should have finished everything before going home to get his luggage, instead of awkwardly carrying it all the way.

But that's how it is when you're on a whim.
Some things can only be done on a whim, otherwise life becomes stagnant.

"Grandpa, if you use a Kebrou note, you'll have to pay two extra dollars, because who knows if it will drop in value again today."

"alright."

After paying the fare, He Ye walked towards a newsstand. It was already dawn, and there were many more pedestrians on the roadside. The shops along the street had opened their shutters, and newspaper boys were lingering at the street corner.

He Ye walked the route with practiced ease, a route she had walked countless times before, and this would be the last time.

Before long, they arrived at the newsstand.

The newsstand wasn't very big. Inside, a greasy middle-aged man with a cigarette in his mouth and wearing a mandarin jacket sat. The first impression of the store was that it was dusty and old.

He didn't even look up at He Ye as she walked into the store, instead focusing intently on the fashion magazine in his hands.

Wow, all I'm reading are those pages with hot girls and beautiful women.

"Boss, do you have the article from issue 94?" He Ye put his luggage on the counter and rested his elbow on the counter.

The greasy middle-aged man lounging on the sofa looked up at the sound, tearing his gaze from the fashion magazine. He then looked at He Ye, his lips slightly moving, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion, shock, and a palpable "What are you doing, kid?"

"Which one is issue 94 of the journal?" the greasy middle-aged man asked hesitantly for a moment.

"Xinye".

"...There seems to be some stock in the back, I'll go look for it." He scrambled off the sofa, his overweight body making him look quite awkward.

After waiting for a minute or two, He Ye also lifted the curtain and entered the storage room.

The front desk was replaced by a young man who was yawning and had just been woken up, looking completely innocent.

Hello, welcome.

He Ye waved his hand, briefly explained that he was going to find the "book seller," and then went into the storage room.

Then, push open the hidden door in the storage room.

Finally, He Ye entered the private room, which was lit up and contained a round table and chairs. The newspaper owner was sitting at the far end.

And his eyes—the greasy middle-aged man who used to have a cigarette in his mouth—had changed; his eyes were now sharp as a griffin, sending chills down one's spine.

“Leon, didn’t we say not to contact them unless necessary? They’re cracking down harder and harder now, you know, the slightest mistake could lead to your death!” “Don’t call me Leon,” He Ye said, sitting opposite him. “That name is dead.”

"You've been arrested?" The man was shocked to hear this.

"No, I just decided to quit...CORE."

He Ye spoke softly, his eyes sincere.

"Quit?" The greasy middle-aged man's hand secretly reached for his waist, while he appeared nonchalant and winked. "What, why do you suddenly want to quit? Weren't you having so much fun before?"

"I've never felt happy being a spy," He Ye said, looking up.

"..." The greasy middle-aged man was speechless for a moment.

“Mark, are you going to shoot?” He Ye asked again.

The greasy middle-aged man stiffened upon hearing this, then after a few seconds his shoulders slumped completely, he spread his hands, and even his sharp gaze vanished:
“Why would I doubt you… As the organization’s most special intelligence agent, if you really wanted to betray us, this base would be gone by now.”

"So... what's on your mind? Why are you suddenly saying you want to quit?"

Mark looked at him seriously and with a puzzled expression. He extinguished his cigarette, feeling quite melancholy.

He Ye realized it was time for him to perform; he had to convince Mark, the team leader, of his determination.

Appeal to their emotions and move them with reason.

He Ye placed her weary hand on her chest, her eyes dim, and slowly said:
"Actually, I don't like killing people. In fact, a long time ago, I often dreamed about everyone I had killed. In my dreams, they cried to me, haunted me, and complained that I had destroyed their families and their happy lives."

"But, but they are all heinous villains."

Mark said innocently, slapping his forehead as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The people his team killed, if not blood-stained capitalists, were at least members of the aristocracy who sucked the blood of the people.

Why is there PTSD if no civilians were killed?
"But they are human beings too!" He Ye gritted his teeth. "God said that everyone is born equal. How can you judge the taking of another's life based on such a thing?"

“…” Mark was speechless again.

He Ye's fingers, which were pressed against her chest, clenched tightly, and she gasped for breath again.
"Moreover, until now, I have never lived for myself except as a spy. I do not know how cold the morning dew in the park is, nor do I know the pleasant air that permeates the afternoon dusk."

He Ye continued earnestly, "I, or rather we, have never lived for ourselves."

"..." Mark's face showed hesitation.

He pursed his lips and remained silent, his expression inscrutable. He Ye knew that this was the time to deliver the final blow to Mark.

“Even…” He Ye sighed, covering his face, “I suspect the organization has abandoned us. After all, we haven’t been paid for almost a year. If I continue to go undercover like before, I’ll starve to death on the streets of Greenley City!”

"So ultimately it comes down to the fact that the money wasn't paid in time."

Mark said bitterly, tapping his fingers on the table as he pondered, "I understand your idea, but what if someone from the organization comes? There are no spies who resign, only spies who die."

"Wait, you mean you've already agreed?"

He Ye was stunned, not expecting it to happen so quickly; he hadn't even managed to squeeze out a single tear.

"Otherwise what? With our relationship, do you think I can stop you from leaving?" Mark shook his head, a hint of reluctance appearing on the face of this greasy middle-aged man.

"..." He Ye was silent for a moment, "Could it be that you also have...?"

"Stop." Mark said solemnly.

The two looked at each other for a moment, and could only say that they had been colleagues for many years and understood each other implicitly. Under the current circumstances, not immediately defecting to the enemy was already a sign of loyalty.

"My plan in this regard is to destroy the personal files."

He Ye said solemnly, “Just say that I was unfortunately arrested during a sweep by the National Security Bureau, and that I committed suicide by biting my tongue without revealing any information about the organization. That’s my death certificate.”

"Just with his mouth?" Mark was exasperated.

"Isn't there you, the 'witness'?" He Ye shrugged. "Anyway, you can just die a heroic death. The rest is just destroying my personal file and leaving a written statement. For a captain like you, that's not a difficult task."

“…” Mark remained silent for a long time. “I will try to do it. By the way, I haven’t asked you yet. What are you trying to do by suddenly leaving the organization?”

“Looking for a new life.” He Ye took a deep breath and said calmly, “Don’t worry, I will not betray you. I can guarantee that with my integrity. I’m just tired of this kind of life.”

Mark frowned as if he had just thought of something: "Speaking of which, you and Sophia lived together after the last infiltration mission, right? Did you have some conflicts after being together for so long?"

"Part of the reason is that I really can't stand being her nanny." He Ye rubbed her temples, looking very troubled. "Thanks to her, all the kitchen utensils in my house have been replaced with stainless steel pots and pans."

“That kid is really strong,” Mark sighed in the tone of a friendly neighbor.

"Anyway, since you agreed so readily, I won't trouble you any longer... Goodbye, Mark, I'll bring a bottle of wine next time we meet, if there's a chance."

He Ye stood up, waved, and left with a handsome silhouette.

"Although I agreed, you haven't won Sophia over yet..." Mark stood up and murmured, reaching out to try and make He Ye stay, but he had already walked far away.

Mark could only mutter subtly and smack his lips:

"That child is much more difficult to deal with than I am..."

(End of this chapter)