What the hell is the "kill line" when you're in America?

The dark muzzle of the gun was pointed directly at Li Ang's forehead.

The person who came was less than three meters away from him.

Li Ang did not move.

If it were the moment when he first traveled back in time, this frail body might have been trembling.

But now, after adjustments and the physical strengthening measures, I'm able to control the muscle's stress response.

He stared silently at the man wearing the clown mask.

"Raise your hands."

A voice came from behind the mask, giving orders to Li Ang.

Li Ang slowly raised his hand, showing no panic.

The masked man took a step closer.

Li Ang stared intently at the gun in the man's hand; the safety was already off.

He pondered the distance, wondering if he could safely knock down the object in front of him.

But he still denied the idea in his heart, after all, now if the other party just lightly tapped his forehead, he would have a hole through it.

"Who are you?" the masked man asked.

Li Ang looked at him through the gas mask; in the dim light, no one could see clearly.

At that moment, a light screen quietly appeared above the masked man's head.

[Target: Victor]

[Kill Line: Medium (Internal strife intensifies, at the center of a power vortex, vulnerable to being purged at any moment)]

in.

Li Ang pondered inwardly.

It's neither the kind of flourishing fortune that's "high" or above, nor the kind of impending doom that's "endangered".

The other party is in some kind of trouble, and once this trouble occurs, they could lose their life at any moment.

Internal cleaning.

These words are interesting.

"I'm a cleaner."

"Someone else came to clean these things up," Li Ang replied.

Hearing Li Ang's reply, Victor did not lower his gun.

"Hmph." Victor sneered.

"Most people would either call the police or contact an organization to collect the body."

Victor pointed his gun at the black garbage bag that had been placed on the ground.

"You're too calm."

"He was so calm, he didn't seem like a homeless person."

At that moment, Victor had already gripped the trigger tightly.

Murderous intent.

Li Ang keenly sensed the murderous intent.

But he still did not back down.

In the world of cultivation, when facing a demonic cultivator two realms higher than oneself in pursuit, running away often means death.

The only way to survive is to make the other party feel that killing you is a greater loss than keeping you alive.

"If you wanted to kill me," Li Ang suddenly spoke, "you should have done it just now, shouldn't you?"

Victor paused for a moment.

"Just now, when I was dealing with this trash..."

Li Ang raised his hand and pointed to the back of his head.

"But you didn't."

"You watched me finish all the work."

Li Ang lowered his hand and looked directly at Victor through the mask.

"Because you need someone who can clean this place up."

"And I did a great job."

Victor fell silent.

The gun was still pointed at Li Ang, but the tension of impending firing had lessened somewhat.

"You are very smart."

"Victor said slowly."

"But intelligent people often die young."

"You saw things here that you shouldn't have seen."

Li Ang shook his head.

He took off his gas mask and casually tossed it into the canvas bag at his feet.

That pale, thin, yet angular face was exposed.

"I didn't see anything."

Li Ang pointed to the garbage bags on the ground.

All I saw was a pile of garbage.

"Since it's trash, just put it in a bag and throw it away."

"As for what garbage is and where it comes from, that's not my concern."

"I only care about my money."

After Li Ang finished speaking, he slowly and deliberately took off his blood-stained latex gloves in front of Victor.

He crumpled the gloves into a ball and stuffed them into his pocket.

This series of movements was executed flawlessly.

This extreme "professionalism" gave Victor a slight illusion.

The ragged Asian man in front of you might really be a down-on-his-luck "insider".

The murderous intent in Victor's eyes began to waver.

Li Ang keenly grasped this point.

He decided to add another chip.

"and."

Li Ang turned around and pointed to the messy ground at the factory entrance.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be worried about whether I'll say something wrong."

"It's those tire tracks."

Victor subconsciously looked in the direction Li Ang was pointing.

On the dusty cement ground, several messy tire tracks were clearly visible.

"You came in a hurry, and you'll leave even faster."

"They didn't even do the most basic finishing touches."

Leon turned his head and looked at Victor.

Through the mask, Li Ang had no idea what Victor was thinking.

But he didn't fire, he continued.

"I can help you remove those traces."

"But that will cost extra."

Victor turned to look at Li Ang.

Li Ang understood; it seemed he had been right.

Victor stared intently at Li Ang, weighing his options.

Killing this person who knew the truth would indeed solve everything.

But he still had to deal with those damn tire tracks himself, and he had to load those heavy body bags onto the truck.

He wasn't an assassin there to silence people; he was an unlucky guy there to clean up their mess.

These dozen or so corpses were not the result of any external conflict.

Instead, it was a clumsy and hasty internal purge.

He was all alone.

And time is running out.

If our enemies discover this situation...

"Damn it!"

The masked man cursed under his breath.

He suddenly looked up and stared intently at Li Ang.

This time, his eyes held less murderous intent and more scrutiny.

"Who exactly are you?"

"I told you, the cleaner."

"two hundred."

Victor squeezed out two words through gritted teeth.

"Sweep the floor clean and move the bags to the truck in the back."

Li Ang did not haggle.

"make a deal."

He put his gas mask back on and took out spare gloves from his canvas bag.

Victor still didn't put away his gun. He retreated into the shadows, leaning against a rusty pillar, the muzzle of his gun still vaguely pointing at Li Ang.

Li Ang ignored the gazes behind him.

He walked to the door, squatted down, and began to work on the tire tracks.

He didn't rinse it with water, as that would have left more noticeable mud marks.

He scooped up the dry soil next to him with a shovel and spread it evenly on the ruts, then gently swept it away with an old broom, following the texture of the ground.

Dust flew everywhere.

The originally clear tire tracks became blurred under the cover of dust.

He learned this technique while concealing his whereabouts in the cultivation world.

The tracking skills of ordinary people are nothing but child's play in his eyes.

"You've done this before?" Victor said from the shadows.

"To survive, you have to do anything." Li Ang didn't answer.

This is indeed a very true statement from Li Ang. In the world of cultivation, if you don't know a thing or two, you might die without even knowing how.

Time passed second by second.

The number of corpses in the factory is decreasing.

The marks on the ground have been mostly cleaned up.

Victor's emotions gradually calmed down.

He watched Li Ang's busy figure, a hint of appreciation appearing in his eyes.

"What's your name?" Victor suddenly asked.

"plum."

"Never heard of it," Victor shook his head. "But you're quite efficient at your work."

"Are you interested in working for me from now on?"

"Especially someone like you who keeps her mouth shut and has a steady hand."

Li Ang dragged the second-to-last bag to the side of the car.

"Let's settle today's bill first," Li Ang said, panting.

"Hmph, a penniless wretch who's obsessed with money."

Victor cursed, but the murderous intent in his voice was gone.

He pulled a wad of banknotes from his pocket, didn't even count them, and threw them directly onto the wooden box next to him.

"Two hundred, plus the previous balance, it's all here."

"Take it yourself."

Li Ang glanced at the stack of money.

But he didn't take it.

The work isn't finished yet.

That's the rule.