The list Jiang Daolin extracted from the ledger was not just a piece of paper. It was a Death Note.
By sunset, every major family involved in the "Immortality Project" had received a special delivery. No couriers were seen, but red envelopes appeared mysteriously on their pillows, inside their safes, or pinned to their office doors with silver needles.
Inside each envelope was a photocopy of their transaction record and a simple note:
"The debt collector is here. See you in three days."
...
Midnight. West Mountain Club.
This was the most exclusive private club in Beijing, hidden deep in the mountains, guarded like a military fortress.
Tonight, the atmosphere in the VIP lounge was grim.
Ten heads of the most powerful families in the capital sat around a round table. The air was thick with cigar smoke and fear.
"Old Zhao... is dead," Sun Caifu, the head of the Sun Consortium, broke the silence. His hands were shaking as he held a glass of whiskey. "I heard he died screaming, clawing his own chest open."
"Jiang Daolin is a demon," another tycoon whispered, his face pale. "Money doesn't work. Threats don't work. Even Grandmaster Xuanji was blasted into a cripple. What can we do? Wait for him to sew our mouths shut?"
"We can't sit and wait for death!"
"But who can stop him? He's a Stitcher! He controls life and death!"
Silence fell again. A suffocating, desperate silence.
Then, a man sitting in the shadows spoke up. He was Mr. Li, a figure with deep connections to the military industrial complex.
"There is one force that can stop him," Mr. Li said slowly, placing a black card on the table. "The one who organized the auction. The one who built the Elysium."
Everyone stared at the card. It bore the emblem of a Qilin (Kylin)—a mythical Chinese beast.
"The Kylin Organization," Sun Caifu swallowed hard. "But... they are monsters. Dealing with them is like making a pact with the devil."
"We are already in hell, Sun," Mr. Li sneered. "Do you want to die by Jiang Daolin's needle, or do you want to take a gamble?"
He picked up a secure satellite phone and dialed a number.
"Hello? This is Beijing Branch... We have a 'Pest' problem. Code Red. Requesting immediate cleanup."
There was a pause on the other end. Then, a synthesized voice replied cold and devoid of emotion:
"Request approved. Asset 'Shadow' has been deployed."
...
The "Stitch" Shop.
It was late. The wind howled through the alleyway.
Jiang Daolin was wiping his Corpse Suppressing Ruler. The ancient metal felt cold, but his heart felt colder. The discovery of the "Male Infant" in the ledger troubled him deeply.
Knock, knock.
Iron Leg walked in from the backyard, looking puzzled.
"Boss, did you go out just now?" Iron Leg asked.
Jiang Daolin paused. "No. I've been sitting here for two hours."
"That's weird," Iron Leg scratched his metal head. "I was checking the perimeter at the alley entrance about ten minutes ago. I saw you standing under the streetlamp."
Jiang Daolin's eyes narrowed. "Me?"
"Yeah. Same white robe. Same height. Even the way you hold your hands behind your back was identical," Iron Leg frowned. "I called out to you, but you didn't answer. You just... smiled at me and vanished around the corner."
A chill ran down Jiang Daolin's spine.
Iron Leg was a cyborg with enhanced vision. He wouldn't mistake a random person for his boss.
Rring— Rring—
Suddenly, the vintage rotary phone on the desk rang.
This phone line was dead. Jiang Daolin only kept it as a decoration. It shouldn't be ringing.
Jiang Daolin stood up slowly. He walked over and picked up the receiver.
"Hello."
Static noise crackled on the line. Then, a voice spoke.
It wasn't a stranger's voice. It was his own voice.
"Hello, brother," the voice on the phone said playfully. It sounded exactly like Jiang Daolin, perfectly mimicking his tone and cadence.
"Thirteen years. You've grown up."
Jiang Daolin gripped the phone tight, his knuckles turning white. "Who are you?"
"I am you," the voice laughed softly. "Or rather, I am the 'Better Version' of you. The one Kylin created to replace the defective original."
"I heard you are planning a 'Diagnosis Meeting' for the rich families in three days?"
"Don't worry. You don't need to go."
"I'll go for you."
"And I promise... I will make it a bloodbath they will never forget. Using your face, and your name."
Click.
The line went dead.
Jiang Daolin stared at the receiver, then turned to look into the bronze mirror on the wall.
For the first time since leaving the village, he felt a genuine threat.
They didn't just send an assassin. They sent a Doppelganger. A monster wearing his skin, intending to destroy not just his life, but his humanity.
"Iron Leg," Jiang Daolin put down the phone, his eyes burning with a new, intense fire.
"Lock the doors." "The war has started."