Future Masters in Modern Times

Chapter 26: Kill!

Once his men had left the private room, a cruel smile spread across Gammon’s face. A flash of cruelty occasionally flickered in his narrow eyes as he spoke in a low, cold voice: “Asim, I’ve completely exhausted your value. So what reason do I have to waste money on a worthless piece of trash like you?” Gammon took a sharp drag on his cigarette and exhaled a long stream of smoke. His face flickered in and out of view within the haze, accompanied by bursts of cruel laughter. Outside the Sharon Hotel, the neon lights and lively atmosphere created a scene of extraordinary bustle. But who would have thought that even a place that appeared so glamorous on the surface was, in reality, riddled with corruption? A car slipped quietly out of the Sharon Hotel, without a sound. On the surface, it looked perfectly ordinary, and no one would have paid any attention to this seemingly unremarkable car. It drove onto the highway at a normal, steady pace, the road stretching into the endless darkness in the distance. Suddenly! A figure appeared. Like a ghost, this figure closely followed the car, always maintaining a distance that was neither too close nor too far. Even more incredible was that the ghostly figure’s speed remained almost perfectly in sync with the car’s; as time passed, there was not the slightest sign of it slowing down. The car turned several corners; the pedestrians along the roadside gradually thinned out until there were only a handful left. It was already very late at night. The car left the busiest streets behind, and by then, even the streetlights lining the road were out. By the time they reached the end of the street, only a few lights remained on. Occasionally, a few lights shone from houses on either side of the street, but they only added a chilling atmosphere to the endless darkness. A dozen or so minutes later, the car came to a stop. It had finally reached its destination—an abandoned parking lot. The car remained stationary for nearly a minute; during that time, it stood motionless, as if it had merged with the darkness. Second by second, time passed… Without warning, the car door slammed open. A man, completely shrouded in black, stepped out of the car, walked around it, and cautiously scanned his surroundings to make sure no one else was nearby. There was a good reason for their caution. Today was the Duchy of Limes’ annual Security Day, a day when the entire duchy launched a major crackdown on all forms of criminal activity. If their actions were discovered, they would be in some trouble. After scanning the area for quite some time, they didn’t spot anything suspicious. However, what they never could have imagined was that, in the inky darkness a dozen or so meters away—a spot so well-concealed it blended seamlessly with the surrounding shadows—a figure stood silently, becoming one with the darkness. A cold, icy glint flashed intermittently in the figure’s eyes, laced with a strong sense of murderous intent. Who else could this figure be but Zhao Wuji, who had just been watching the boxing match in the basement of the Sharon Hotel? After the match ended, Zhao Wuji had sensed that these men were planning to target Asim. In the eyes of these boxers’ bosses, the fighters were nothing more than tools for making money. and once these money-making tools could no longer turn a substantial profit for them—that is, once they lost their utility—their bosses would discard them without a second thought. Those bosses didn’t want to spend another penny on these boxers. Zhao Wuji isn’t a kind-hearted person, nor does he always meddle in others’ affairs. He’s no saint—why would he have the time to save the world? However, there is one thing about Zhao Wuji that will never change: he always acts according to his true nature. Whether it’s impulsive or ruthless, he will always do only what his heart tells him is right. Just now—perhaps it was Asim’s gaze that moved him, or perhaps it was Asim’s… Zhao Wuji suddenly realized he couldn’t even find a reason for why he’d followed them. Perhaps it was simply that he felt he should follow them, so he did—it was as simple as that. Another person got out of the car. What they were about to do was so heinous. They carried a body wrapped in rags off the vehicle; the rags were splattered with blood. An ordinary person would surely have assumed it was a corpse, but with Zhao Wuji’s keen senses, he could clearly sense the life force still coursing through that body. The two men in black carried the body off the car, set it down on a random patch of ground, and then one of them spoke up: “Gianni, the boss ordered us to take out Asim. So, what do you say? Are you going to do it, or should I?” The other man waved his hand dismissively, saying with some impatience, “Stop all this nonsense. You do it. Let’s not waste time—we don’t want to alert anyone.” The man in black nodded, pulled a pistol from his coat, attached a silencer to it, and aimed it at Asim. He narrowed his eyes, took a few steps back, and was just about to pull the trigger. Just then, a loud bang startled them both. In their panic, they turned their heads and were horrified to see a discarded car door hurtling toward them at high speed. The man in black named Gianni was far enough away to dodge it in time, but the man holding the pistol wasn’t so lucky. As terror filled his eyes, the reflection of the car door grew closer and closer, slicing through his body like an incredibly sharp blade. A gruesome scene unfolded: the man in black was literally sliced in two by the car door. Blood spattered everywhere, and his dismembered intestines, internal organs, and other jumbled remains spilled all over the ground. The remains crashed down heavily into the wreckage, while the car door, still carrying momentum, flew through the air and slammed into a wall with a "boom," smashing right through it. It turned out that at that critical moment, Zhao Wuji had instinctively ripped the door off a nearby junk car with tremendous force and hurled it with all his might. Just how terrifying must the full force of Zhao Wuji’s burst of power have been? What had been an ordinary car door in an instant became a deadly weapon of unparalleled lethality. The man in black who had narrowly escaped with his life was utterly terrified at the sight of his companion’s fate. Although he had committed many murders in the past, he had never witnessed such a gruesome scene—especially one unfolding right before his very eyes. He tried to cry out, but found his throat seemed blocked—he couldn’t make a single sound. In his despair, he looked around frantically, only to discover with horror that a figure was slowly emerging from a dark corner. Only when the figure had fully emerged from the darkness could he clearly see the person’s face. Black hair, black eyes—ordinary features, yet an extraordinary presence. Though he had an unremarkable face, anyone who had ever seen him would find it hard to forget him. The man in black froze; his mind went blank. He felt neither fear nor the urge to flee, but simply stared blankly at the figure drawing ever closer. Zhao Wuji’s steps seemed slow, yet in just a few brief moments, he stood before the man in black. He extended his right hand and placed it on the forehead of the man, who remained frozen in place. Deep within the man’s eyes, a wave of extreme terror spread rapidly; he seemed to have snapped out of his stupor, for he sensed death approaching. “No, don’t kill me,” he stammered, forcing the words out from deep within his heart. But Zhao Wuji’s expression didn’t waver in the slightest; his right hand gripped the man’s forehead, and with a slight squeeze The man’s forehead caved in with a audible “crack,” visible to the naked eye. His whole body shuddered, his eyes bulged, and his face contorted in agony and horror. In the blink of an eye, the man in black was killed instantly. Calm returned to the parking lot, as if nothing had ever happened there. Asim, lying on the ground, let out a pained moan and began to tremble all over. Seeing this, Zhao Wuji crouched down, searched the two men, retrieved some money and valuables, then lifted Asim into the car. He sat in the driver’s seat, started the engine, and quickly drove away from the parking lot. Asim’s condition did not look promising. Just over ten minutes after he left the parking lot, a patrol of police officers passed by, discovered the gruesome scene, and immediately began investigating the crime scene. The scene deeply shocked the officers. They couldn’t fathom what had caused the deaths of these two people. Were these even human beings? This was absurd. In the end, to cover their tracks, they reluctantly concluded it was a robbery-murder. After all, the money and valuables on both bodies had vanished without a trace, so the robbery-murder theory was just about plausible. But Zhao Wuji was unaware of any of this. He was speeding down the city’s main thoroughfares, following the roadside signs, and after several twists and turns, he was rushing as fast as he could to a private hospital. Receiving treatment at a public hospital might have raised suspicions, but at a private hospital, there was absolutely no need for such concerns—as long as you had enough money. Haimer Private Hospital was a comprehensive private hospital run by a German. Zhao Wuji parked his car in front of the hospital, helped Asim out of the car, and hurried into Haimer Hospital. At the front desk, several attractive nurses were busy with their tasks. Upon seeing a patient approaching the hospital, they immediately put aside what they were doing and stepped forward to greet him. “Save him!” Zhao Wuji said in English, pointing at Asim. The nurse seemed taken aback for a moment and was about to say something when a wad of cash was already thrust toward her. “We’ll take care of it right away,” the nurse said without further ado, quickly organizing the medical staff to begin resuscitation efforts. In just a moment, a metal stretcher covered with crisp white sheets was wheeled in. Asim was placed on the stretcher and wheeled into the operating room. The two men in black had carried a substantial amount of cash—over ten thousand US dollars in total—more than enough to cover Asim’s treatment. Zhao Wuji didn’t ask for any money; he simply handed all the cash he had on him to the nurse and left immediately—he still had one more thing to do. Just as Zhao Wuji had left his own room, the people Adelaide had stationed at the hotel to keep a close eye on him began to panic. Not long before, when they’d arranged for hotel staff to enter Zhao Wuji’s suite, they’d discovered the room was completely empty. This was a major problem. They urgently accessed the surveillance system, retrieved the footage of Zhao Wuji from that time period, and eventually discovered that he had entered the basement level of the Sharon Hotel. They then checked another set of surveillance feeds and found that Zhao Wuji was no longer there either—he had left the Sharon Hotel. Where on earth had he gone?