Translator: CinderTL
He broke protocol by bringing Qin Lan out of the supernatural event alive, ensuring his survival at the cost of failing the mission. At least, that's how he saw it, since he wouldn't receive the final reward—the contract that only appeared when a single survivor remained.
This powerful and ruthless man saw a reflection of his former self in Qin Lan, and from that moment on, he kept him close. To Qin Lan, Gong Zhe was like a godfather figure. Over the years, he had diligently served the Xia Family, working tirelessly and enduring hardships without complaint.
But some things are predetermined from the start. As Qin Lan himself had said, not everyone has the luxury of choice.
After a moment of silence, Qin Lan asked his final question: "Mr. Gong, the young mistress isn't aware you summoned me here, is she?"
Knowing Gong Zhe wouldn't answer, Qin Lan removed his glasses, tucked them into his shirt pocket, and continued: "This was your own initiative. I suspect if I fell into her hands, even death would be a luxury I couldn't afford."
Qin Lan was intimately familiar with Xia Meng's methods. "She won't kill me outright," he said, "but she'll spread rumors that I willingly confessed everything, revealing the secrets of the Night Watchers and the Xiao Family. My family will inevitably face retribution."
"After that, she'll show me photos of my family's hanged corpses, forcing me to spend the rest of my life in torment."
"She might even use me as a cautionary tale, holding periodic 'exhibitions' for the entire Xia Family to warn them: This is what happens to anyone who dares betray us!"
Gong Zhe made no attempt to defend Xia Meng. He knew perfectly well that the girl was capable of such cruelty—and likely far worse.
A loud thud echoed from downstairs, like a heavy gate being smashed open, followed by a series of hurried footsteps rushing toward them. Judging by the sound, there was more than one person.
Qin Lan slowly reached behind his windbreaker, drew a silver handgun, and laid it on the table before him. Gong Zhe watched silently, observing every move.
Qin Lan offered no resistance to Gong Zhe. It was pointless; Gong Zhe's power far surpassed his own, leaving him no chance of victory. More importantly, he had no desire to fight.
"Mr. Gong, the Gate within you is in grave danger. Please be vigilant," Qin Lan said, pausing briefly before adding, "I haven't informed the Night Watchers about the Gate inside you."
Rapid footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder as they approached. The rhythmic clatter of heels on the wooden floor reverberated like a steady drumbeat.
"Mr. Gong," Qin Lan bowed deeply, "You brought me here. Please see me safely away."
Just as a slender figure appeared in the doorway, the long-awaited gunshot finally cracked the air. A crimson flower bloomed on Qin Lan's back as he crumpled to the floor.
Xia Meng rushed into the room, her face twisted with frustration as she stared at Qin Lan's lifeless body, his eyes fading. She had intended to manipulate this Night Watcher pawn, feeding him false intelligence. Now that he was dead, her carefully laid plans lay shattered.
Clutching a small pistol, she looked as if she wanted to vent her anger by firing a few more shots into Qin Lan's corpse, but Gong Zhe's presence restrained her.
"Girl," Gong Zhe said, standing up and speaking with rare tenderness, "he's already dead. Take him out and bury him."
Seeing her chance to back down gracefully, Xia Meng reluctantly holstered her gun, though she couldn't resist grumbling, "Uncle Gong, I'll let this slide this time, but there won't be a next time."
At Gong Zhe's signal, several black-clad guards entered, carried Qin Lan's body out, and cleaned up the mess.
Once the door closed, leaving Xia Meng and Gong Zhe alone in the room, Xia Meng's expression changed abruptly. She grabbed Gong Zhe's sleeve and said urgently, "Uncle Gong, I need to discuss something very important with you."
Cough... cough...
Cough
A deep, rattling cough echoed from a nearby room.
The room was old and dimly lit by two flickering white candles.
Bronze candlesticks gleamed with a metallic luster.
Several figures of varying heights huddled together—men and women—all staring at another person lying on an iron bed covered with a blue-and-white sheet. The person's breathing was shallow, and blood seeped out with each hacking cough.
Even more horrifying, the man's face had completely rotted away, revealing his ghastly white skull.
A timid voice arose from the group surrounding Wei Jinting. "Should we start the music now, or wait a little longer?"
When no one acknowledged her, Fu Fu shrank back, meekly returning to her position. She straightened her posture and forced a solemn expression, mimicking the others.
A young man with sword-like eyebrows and piercing eyes sat on the edge of the bed, two short swords sheathed at his waist. He radiated a sharp, imposing aura.
"No. 6," Wei Jinting whispered weakly. "Is that you? Have you returned?"
Chen Ran's brow furrowed suddenly. He immediately reached out and grasped Wei Jinting's blood-soaked hand. "It's me. I'm back."
"I heard—cough, cough—" Wei Jinting broke off in a violent coughing fit, as if trying to expel his own organs. "I heard that little bastard, Number 13, sent you to intercept Gong Zhe. A father-son reunion... you two must have had quite the chat."
"Quite the chat," Chen Ran replied. "I almost chopped off his right hand. I was this close."
Wei Jinting's eyes had already melted away, leaving him blind to Chen Ran's gruesome state and unable to smell the overwhelming stench of blood emanating from him.
It was only through sheer willpower that he had managed to return at all.
Perhaps sensing his impending demise, Wei Jinting didn't press the matter further. Instead, he strained to turn his head, directing his empty, blood-filled sockets toward the assembled group. "Heh heh... I can feel it... you're all here."
"It's rare to see everyone gathered like this," Wei Jinting wheezed, his failing organs making him sound like a tattered rag doll held together by crude stitches. "The last time we were all together like this... was when we sent off No. 10, wasn't it?"
"I miss him so much..."
"You all used to complain about my endless rambling. Now you're rushing here to see me off. A bunch of hypocrites, every last one of you."
Wei Jinting gasped for breath, then adopted a more formal tone. "No. 1," he said, "like No. 2, your reliance on your abilities will ultimately hinder you, despite your strength."
"Our battles with the Night Watchers over the years may seem evenly matched, but you must understand that they've poured most of their resources into that Plan. What they've deployed against us is only a fraction of their true capabilities."
"Even now, we don't fully grasp the nature of their scheme. But I suspect it's deeply connected to the dark secrets buried within the Asylum."
(End of the Chapter)
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