Sunlight slanted across the country roads of Surrey, tree shadows dappling the asphalt like some irregular code.
Zhang Jie held the steering wheel with one hand, the other resting by the car window, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the door.
The silver Mercedes-Benz that drove away from the airport, the one those rookie killers took, he didn't need to return it; he'd drive it until it stopped.
Disposable.
In the rearview mirror, a black Land Rover had been following him for three intersections.
"Amateurs."
He scoffed, lightly tapping the steering wheel with his finger.
This was the first time he realized his various stats had grown to a decent level; at least, they were good enough for a professional killer.
"Reconnaissance Lv1 (42/100)"
Although this skill was just an introduction, it was enough for him to detect those clumsy stalkers.
The Land Rover followed too closely, even neglecting to hide its tire tracks when turning. The car windows were tinted, but Zhang Jie could still see the man in sunglasses in the driver's seat from the sun's reflection—a thick neck, tattoos on his knuckles, a typical thug.
"Oriska's men?"
He couldn't be bothered to guess.
His fingers slid to the secret compartment under the passenger seat, finding the glock 17 that John had left in the car, its magazine full.
"Thanks, you bastard."
He muttered softly, then sharply turned the steering wheel, the car making a sudden turn into a narrow country lane.
The car's small size was its only advantage here, coupled with the boost from Driving Skill Lv2.
Zhang Jie felt it was easy to deal with those small fries.
The Land Rover in the rearview mirror clearly hadn't anticipated this move; a piercing screech of brakes sounded, tires leaving two black marks on the asphalt.
Zhang Jie didn't slow down; instead, he stepped on the accelerator.
Dense bushes lined both sides of the country lane, branches and leaves scraping against the car body, making a rustling sound.
This road was too narrow; a vehicle of the Land Rover's size couldn't easily enter.
By the time the Land Rover reacted, Zhang Jie had already left the lane, turning off to who knew where else.
"Keep following, you fools."
He sneered, drove a bit further, and after confirming he had shaken off his tail, he turned back onto the main road.
Thanks again to the benefits of "Map Lv1 (75/100)".
The navigation showed that the safe house was still a twenty-minute drive away.
But Zhang Jie didn't plan to go directly.
He needed to confirm first if he was the only prey.
He'd circle around the old town first to see if there were any other tails on him.
The old town of Surrey had an eerie tranquility, like a corner forgotten by time.
Brick buildings, vintage streetlights, and even the air carried the scent of black tea and old books.
Even Zhang Jie couldn't help but slow down; it was hard to describe the feeling.
Zhang Jie parked the car casually on the street, walked a few steps, then randomly entered a shop. The sign was faded, barely legible as 'White & Son'.
As he pushed the door open, the doorbell rang crisply.
Inside, the light was soft, and the air was filled with the old scent of wooden furniture and a faint cedar aroma.
Glass display cases held various pocket watches, silver items, and a few flintlock Pistols that looked like antiques.
In a corner, an old grandfather clock ticked dully, like some kind of countdown.
His gaze swept over the shelves, finally stopping on the man behind the counter.
A man in a dark grey three-piece suit was meticulously polishing a pocket watch.
What the hell?
He looked a lot like James Bond.
Zhang Jie didn't know him, but his intuition told him this man was not simple.
Too refined.
A crisp suit, an immaculate tie, even his cufflinks gleamed with a subtle silver light.
His fingers were long, his movements elegant, as if accustomed to the rhythm of high society.
"...Overdoing the cool act, aren't you?"
Zhang Jie rolled his eyes mentally.
The man looked up, his ice-blue eyes appearing exceptionally sharp in the light.
"Good afternoon," his voice was deep, with a hint of subtle mockery, "Looking for something special?"
Zhang Jie didn't answer, merely picked up a letter opener from the counter and weighed it in his hand.
"Sterling silver, 19th-century French," the man smiled, "But I imagine you might be interested in something more... practical?"
Zhang Jie raised an eyebrow: "Such as?"
The man put down the pocket watch, took a wooden box from under the counter, and gently opened it—inside was an old-fashioned revolver, its body engraved with intricate patterns.
"Colt 1851, not common on the black market."
Zhang Jie didn't touch the Pistol, just stared into the man's eyes: "I don't collect antiques."
The man chuckled: "Of course, you're more accustomed to modern weapons."
His gaze subtly swept over Zhang Jie's waist, where the folds of his trench coat vaguely outlined the shape of a Pistol.
Zhang Jie narrowed his eyes.
This guy is testing me.
The atmosphere in the shop subtly tensed.
The ticking of the grandfather clock became exceptionally clear, like a silent threat.
The man's fingers lightly tapped the counter, a slow and regular rhythm—Morse code?
Or some kind of signal?
Zhang Jie subtly stepped back half a pace, his hand already on the Pistol grip.
"You seem very tense," the man smiled, "Does the Surrey sunlight make you uncomfortable?"
"No, just hate being watched."
The man raised an eyebrow: "Stalkers?"
"Perhaps," Zhang Jie stared at him, "Or maybe busybodies."
The man laughed, a genuine laugh this time: "Interesting."
Zhang Jie said no more, turning to walk towards the door.
As the doorbell rang again, Bond's voice came from behind him:
"Be careful, the roads in Surrey... can get you lost."
Zhang Jie pushed the door open and left without looking back, the sunlight making him squint.
He walked quickly but didn't forget to count the footsteps behind him.
One, two... that guy didn't follow.
But he remembered that face.
Twenty minutes later, Zhang Jie parked the car in front of an unassuming country villa.
The safe house was more low-key than he imagined: brick exterior walls, a vine-covered fence, even the house number was blurry.
The key was hidden under a flowerpot on the porch, typical John style.
Pushing the door open, the interior was simply furnished but complete: sofa, coffee table, refrigerator, and even an old record player.
A note lay on the coffee table:
"Don't die too quickly."
Typical John-style concern.
Zhang Jie snorted, crumpled the note into a ball, and threw it into the trash, then walked towards the bedroom.
He pulled a black travel bag from under the bed—John's gear for him.
Unzipping it, inside were neatly arranged items:
• Two spare glock 34s (magazine × 6)
• Tactical Dagger × 2
• Bulletproof Suit (custom-made, Kevlar-lined)
Zhang Jie picked up the bulletproof suit and held it up to the mirror.
Although he already had one, having a spare was good, but this one looked a bit old?
"Tsk, it fits quite well."
He had just put away the gear when his phone suddenly vibrated.
> Mission Directive Update <
> Please arrive at Blackthorn Castle within 6 hours <
Zhang Jie stared at the screen, his mouth twitching.
"...Fuck!"
This was rushing him to his death!
What's the hurry?
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