Yet this mysterious girl in front of him can actually do it too.
And in such harsh conditions, using an ordinary Glock to pull it off so casually.
"I said, I know more than you imagine."
Alice blows the smoke from the muzzle, spins the gun on her finger with a fancy flourish, and holsters it back at her waist.
"Is this shot enough to qualify to talk about cooperation with you, Mr. Cross?"
Cross looks at the dead mouse, the shock in his eyes gradually subsiding, replaced by deeper confusion.
He doesn't agree immediately, but instead asks a soul-piercing question.
"Since you have such ability, and can even find me without anyone knowing, why don't you just go and kill him yourself?"
Cross's voice is cold and sharp; he hasn't been dazzled by Alice's strength.
"With your ability, walking into that office in the textile factory and putting a hole in Sloan's head should be much easier than talking nonsense with me here."
"That's right, killing Sloan is as simple as crushing an ant for me."
Alice admits it very straightforwardly; she even yawns boredly and leans against a moss-covered stone pillar.
"But what good would that do me?"
"Once Sloan is dead, The Fraternity will be leaderless. Those brainwashed assassins, Fox, The Repairman, The Butcher, etc., will go crazy to avenge their leader or scatter and flee. That factory will become a battlefield, and those precious equipment inside, those medicinal bath recipes that can bring people back from the dead, will likely be destroyed in the chaos."
Alice walks up to Cross and holds up three fingers, retracting them one by one.
Cross stares blankly at the girl in front of him, and after a while, asks somewhat bitterly: "You want to annex The Fraternity?"
"This is called non-performing asset restructuring." Alice smiles brightly and dangerously, "But to take over this legacy, there is one major obstacle, and that is their faith."
"If I were an outside invader, they would fight me to the death."
"But what if Sloan is exposed as a liar who betrayed fate? What if that sacred loom is proven to have long become a tool for Sloan's private desires?"
Alice stares into Cross's eyes, her voice full of seduction.
"When faith collapses, this group of fanatics will become a flock of lost lambs. At that time, whoever can give them a new direction will be their new Master."
"And to do all this, just killing is not enough; one must destroy the heart."
Alice points to the faked-death device in her hand.
"I want Wesley to discover the truth in despair, I want Fox to defect amidst broken faith. I want to make Sloan forsaken by everyone and ruin his reputation."
"This requires a perfect play, and you, Mr. Cross, are the most important tragic hero in this play."
"You are a lunatic," Cross says in a low voice, "even crazier than Sloan."
"Thanks for the compliment. In this crazy World, only lunatics can live happily." Alice shrugs indifferently.
"The deal is simple: I give you a chance to save your son's soul, and you give me a key to open the door of The Fraternity."
"Even, if you cooperate well, once I take over The Fraternity, I don't mind letting you be the new combat instructor. After all, letting Wesley have a complete family is also part of the employee benefits, isn't it?"
"Speak, what is your plan."
Alice walks to the dusty ground, squats down, and uses her finger to draw a simple floor plan of the textile factory.
"Sloan is a cautious old Fox, but he is extremely arrogant, firmly believing that fate has been tampered with by him; Wesley will soon receive the order to kill you."
"At that time, you have to fight him. And you have to make it very real, let him feel the fear of death, and force out all his potential."
Alice looks up, staring at Cross with burning eyes.
"Then at the last moment, you must die under his gun."
"What kind of plan is this?" Cross frowns.
"Actually, it's not that you really have to die."
Alice takes a silver micro-device out of her pocket, only the size of a coin, with a faint blue light flickering on it.
"This is a nerve blocker and cardiac arrest simulator. Sticking it to your chest, after being hit by a specific frequency, it will release a strong current, instantly blocking your nerve signals and making your heart stop beating completely."
"No heartbeat, no breathing, dilated pupils, falling body temperature. This is enough to fool that rookie Wesley, and enough to fool the clean-up crew that arrives later."
Cross takes the cold device, his fingers rubbing it slightly.
"Afterwards, I will inject you with adrenaline to wake you up."
Cross looks at the device in his hand, then takes a photo out of his bosom.
The photo is very old, the edges severely worn, showing a young woman holding a baby, smiling brightly.
That is his past to which he cannot return, and the future he must protect.
"As long as Wesley can be freed from that hell, as long as he can live like a normal person."
Cross puts the photo close to his body, and when he raises his head again, the confusion in his eyes is wiped away.
"I'll bet this life."
"Very good."
Alice stands up, looking at the rain outside that is gradually stopping.
The darkness before dawn is the thickest, but in the distant east, a faint light is trying to tear through this thick curtain of darkness.
"Get ready, the best actors are about to take the stage. The script Sloan wrote is too terrible; it's time for us to rewrite the ending."
Alice's figure retreats into the darkness again, leaving only one sentence echoing in the empty clock tower.
"Don't really die, Cross, your life is very precious."
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