Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
As Li Mu just mounted his motorcycle and had barely traveled a few blocks, a familiar ringing sound suddenly pierced the night. The communication device in his helmet was particularly jarring in the quiet darkness. He frowned slightly, tilted his head, and pressed the answer button. A cold, mechanical voice soon came through the line, devoid of any emotional fluctuation—it was his secret intermediary, codenamed "M8."
Li Mu was all too familiar with this voice. The intermediary was eccentric, never revealing themselves no matter the time or place, moving in shadows even within the Twilight Alliance, making them one of the most enigmatic figures around. Every contact was conducted through a voice changer; that emotionless electronic tone carried an ungraspable sense of intimidation, as if he were conversing with a completely unfeeling machine.
"Ghost Shadow, proceed straight along this road. After you reach the convenience store at the traffic light corner, dispose of the briefcase in the dumpster outside," M8 commanded coldly, their tone carrying an absolute sense of authority that left no room for questioning. It felt as if this was his only option.
Li Mu couldn't help but let out a cold laugh, tinged with sarcasm. "M8, your preferences are truly unique; you always make me feel like I'm scavenging for garbage." While he teased, a sense of dissatisfaction bubbled within him—this wasn’t the first time M8 had chosen such a method for their exchanges. After every mission, regardless of how substantial the reward was, M8 always instructed him to discard items in inconspicuous places—especially dumpsters—as if these valuable documents, evidence, or funds were nothing more than unsightly refuse.
Li Mu understood that there was likely a reason behind such arrangements, perhaps to avoid drawing attention. Yet he still couldn’t fully comprehend the strange operational methods of this mysterious intermediary. This particular mission felt especially obscure, and M8's coldness and caution heightened Li Mu's sense of unusual danger surrounding this transaction. He remained alert internally, filled with questions about M8's methods but unable to glean any clues from their flat voice.
M8 paid no heed to Li Mu's mockery as if that sarcastic tone hadn’t touched them at all. The electronic voice on the other end replied coldly, "You need not concern yourself with the method of exchange; simply follow the instructions." Their voice was as sharp as a blade, each word dripping with an undeniable chill. This tone rendered Li Mu's jest meaningless; the conversation felt devoid of warmth and lacked any intention for further explanation—as if it were merely a mechanical execution for M8.
Li Mu fell silent with a cold smile, feeling a simmering frustration within him but knowing he couldn’t change the rules of this transaction. He scanned the quiet night around him, his gaze falling on the silver briefcase in his hand as a wave of helplessness washed over him. The stakes for this deal were high; both the identity and demands of the employer were shrouded in mystery. After much effort within Qihong Ice Factory to complete his mission, he was now being asked to casually discard his reward into a dumpster—this absurdity gnawed at him.
Ultimately, he took a deep breath to calm himself, setting aside his doubts and dissatisfaction toward this enigmatic intermediary. His fingers tightened slightly around the briefcase as he accelerated forward. The engine roared steadily as he glided through the silent night, quickly disappearing into darkness while heading toward the traffic light corner.
Upon reaching the corner, Li Mu’s headlights illuminated the empty street ahead. The convenience store at night exuded an atmosphere of loneliness and stagnation; only the neon sign hanging at its entrance flickered weakly as if struggling against fatigue. Through the glass window, he could see the lone night shift employee lazily sitting behind the counter, idly filing their nails and completely ignoring the outside world. The street was eerily quiet; it felt as though all vitality had been swallowed by nightfall, with only distant streetlights occasionally flickering to remind him that reality still existed here.
Li Mu stopped his motorcycle and turned off the engine, stabilizing himself on his legs before slowly dismounting. Holding onto the silver briefcase and feeling its heavy weight in his hands—he understood better than anyone else its true value—yet M8 wanted him to toss such an item into an ordinary dumpster. This arrangement filled him with disdain and contempt.
He walked silently toward the dumpster outside the convenience store; that silver metal box stood quietly in the night while its surroundings were covered in dust and graffiti. Scattered around were crumpled papers and debris that made it look filthy and chaotic. Standing before the dumpster with the heavy briefcase gripped tightly in his hand only intensified his feelings of helplessness and anger.
"This guy's methods are truly bizarre," Li Mu scoffed quietly to himself as he cursed inwardly. Without hesitation, he lifted the briefcase high above his head and hurled it into the dumpster with a surge of disgust. A dull thud echoed from inside as it seemed to be swallowed by darkness in an instant, leaving behind only a pungent smell of garbage that made him feel slightly nauseous.
The more he thought about this method of exchange, the more dissatisfied he became; he muttered under his breath with a cold laugh, "M8, can we not pick a more decent place? This is absolutely disgusting."
As soon as the words fell, the cold, mechanical voice of Mao Ba came through the earpiece, calm and devoid of any emotional fluctuation, as if indifferent to Li Mu's discomfort. "The target has been spotted; we will send someone to retrieve it shortly."
Li Mu was momentarily taken aback. Upon hearing this, he couldn't help but look up, his gaze landing on the garbage container above. It was then that he noticed a small, discreet camera installed in the shadows of the roof, its dark lens precisely aimed at both the container and where he stood. He realized that Mao Ba's "has been seen" was not an exaggeration but a literal observation through the surveillance.
A wave of discomfort surged within him; the feeling of being watched sent a chill of malice coursing through his heart. Li Mu felt as though every move he made was under Mao Ba's control. This invisible pressure and scrutiny left him restless and even somewhat repulsed.
He let out a cold laugh, his gaze unflinchingly meeting the camera. A smirk crept onto his lips as he defiantly raised his middle finger at the lens, responding to Mao Ba's "attention" in such a crude manner. This gesture was provocative, as if to convey that he did not accept this overly cautious surveillance.
The camera remained still, watching him without any reaction, but Li Mu knew that Mao Ba must have seen his gesture. With his anger simmering, he chose not to say anything more and turned back towards his motorcycle, swinging himself onto the seat.
Comment 0 Comment Count