Villain? No, I'll catch up with the protagonist after passing the civil service exam.

The glaring red wine meandered down the white wall.

Like streaks of blood, the air in the basement was thick with a suffocating brutality.

The base of the glass goblet shattered into more than a dozen pieces.

Sharp fragments flew everywhere. A few splashed onto the expensive Persian carpet, tearing the delicate wool.

The leader of the "Shadow" organization stands in the shadows.

His chest heaved violently. His lungs felt like they were being pulled by a broken bellows, panting heavily.

His name is Qiu Kun. He is the actual controller of the underground black market in Jinghai City.

At that moment, his custom-made leather shoes stepped on a piece of broken glass and ground it hard, producing a teeth-grinding crunching sound.

The liquor seeped into the gaps in his shoes, making them slippery on the ground. He paid no heed.

"Eighty million worth of goods. And six hidden delivery networks."

Qiu Kun forced those words out of his throat. His voice cracked, revealing the madness of a rabid dog cornered in a dead end.

"They just let the cops take them all down like that?! Huh?!"

He turned around abruptly, grabbed the heavy crystal ashtray from the table, and slammed it against the security door opposite.

With a muffled "bang," cigarette butts and ashes scattered all over the floor, making people's throats dry and choked.

The henchman, Rat, who was standing by the door reporting, shrank back in fear.

His legs were shaking uncontrollably. His trouser legs were trembling, as if he were afraid that the next thing to come at him would be a knife.

"Boss, it was Lu Jingyan who personally led the team." Rat swallowed hard, his voice barely audible. "The brothers didn't even have time to fully activate their anti-gravity shoes before they were caught by the electric grid."

The mouse wiped the cold sweat from its forehead.

"He didn't even fire a gun; he was treated as a troublemaker and illegally taking off. He got a long list of tickets, and now they're all in jail."

Upon hearing the name Lu Jingyan...

Qiu Kun's facial muscles twitched suddenly. His right eyelid twitched violently.

He strode to the desk, gripping the mahogany surface tightly with both hands. His fingernails scratched several whitish marks on the solid wood.

"Lu Jingyan... it's that persistent cop again."

He clenched his back teeth. A metallic taste of blood, like the flesh of his cheek being torn apart, filled his mouth.

"Ever since he became this so-called commander-in-chief, my sources of income have been completely cut off. Buyers on the market are too scared to even touch a single screw."

Qiu Kun suddenly raised his head.

A few strands of her once meticulously combed slicked-back hair had fallen down and were hanging on her forehead, making her look disheveled.

"But does he still think he's the same god who tore apart interstellar warships in the spaceport?"

He let out a cold laugh. The sound was like a night owl scratching at a wall.

"It's already spread throughout the underworld. That guy surnamed Lu unbound himself from the system a long time ago. Lately, he's been going out every day to mediate arguments at the market, and he even rides a beat-up bicycle to and from get off work."

Qiu Kun walked around the table and kicked aside the leather swivel chair blocking his way.

The chair hit the wall and bounced back.

"His strange superpowers are long gone! Now he's just an ordinary mortal who'd be shot right through the guts!"

He paced back and forth in the narrow space.

The soles of their shoes were stained with alcohol, leaving sticky red marks on the ground and emitting a fermented, sour smell.

The mouse boldly raised its head. "Boss, you mean...?"

"Contact the dark web. Find the top-ranked professional assassin."

Qiu Kun stopped in his tracks. He turned his head, his eyes filled with a desperate, bloodshot glint.

"Go to the lower deck. Take out that large, unsold item and deliver it to the assassin."

He gasped for breath, his teeth grinding together.

"I want this guy surnamed Lu. He won't live past sunset this weekend."

A village within the city. A cheap rental room where even the windows are covered with black cloth.

The lights were off in the room. Only an old monitor on the table emitted a dim blue light, illuminating the takeout boxes and beer bottles scattered on the floor.

The air was filled with the smell of rancid instant noodle soup.

The assassin "K" sat cross-legged on a spring mattress without sheets.

He has a habit of cracking his knuckles whenever he gets an order. Right now, he's cracking his left index finger so loudly it's making a "crack" sound.

There was a knock on the door, three long and two short.

The mouse, carrying a heavy silver metal briefcase, pushed open the door and squeezed in, panting.

The box was placed on the iron-framed table. With a dull thud, the table legs wobbled under its weight.

K didn't say anything.

He rolled out of bed and shuffled over in his flip-flops. The soles of his shoes scraped against the concrete, making a clattering sound.

Rough fingers flicked the mechanical combination lock on the suitcase a couple of times. With a "click," the lock popped open.

A stream of cold, white liquid nitrogen mist instantly spilled out and dripped down the tabletop.

The surrounding temperature dropped sharply.

A strong, pungent smell of gun oil filled the air, mixed with the acrid odor of ozone produced by high-energy ionization. The stench made the mouse sneeze twice in a row.

Inside the box, a pile of parts with a cold, hard metallic sheen lay quietly.

"This is a really good piece of stuff. It cost a fortune to assemble."

The mouse rubbed its frozen hands and whispered its explanation, afraid of waking up some monster.

"A smuggled and assembled Gauss kinetic energy sniper rifle. The barrel is an electromagnetic acceleration rail salvaged from a battle-damaged version of the Sirius mech."

K ignored him.

His calloused fingertips traced the cold barrel of the gun. He lifted the main body of the gun with one hand; it was surprisingly heavy.

"Click".

The main track snaps into the housing groove. The metallic click is crisp and clean, a perfect fit.

He picked up the dark red energy battery, about the size of a duck egg. He aimed it at the slot at the bottom of the stock and slammed it down with the heel of his hand.

"Buzz—"

The moment the battery is connected, the electromagnetic coil inside the gun emits a low-frequency charging beep.

A faint blue light followed the magic-guiding patterns on the outside of the gun barrel, illuminating the muzzle.

K raised his gun. The heavy butt pressed firmly against his solid right shoulder.

He turned his head, his cheek pressed against the cool polymer chin rest. His thumb deftly pried open the dust cover of the high-magnification scope.

"Silent, without flash. Its pure physical kinetic energy upon leaving the barrel is eight times that of a regular sniper bullet."

The rat swallowed hard, looked at the futuristic and ferocious weapon, and shrank back.

"If you pull the trigger, this thing can turn a light armored vehicle into a sieve. Not even a single piece of metal will be left."

K lowered the gun. He pulled the electromagnetic recoil bolt on the side.

The sound of the internal parts rubbing together was pleasant to hear. The movements were as practiced and natural as picking up food with chopsticks.

"Where is the target?" he asked in a hoarse voice, tilting his chin up as he chewed gum.

The mouse quickly pulled a photograph from the inside pocket of its jacket and laid it flat on the table.

The photo was taken secretly. The resolution is a bit blurry.

The man in the picture is wearing a gray pullover sweater. He's pushing a worn-out yellow shared bicycle and waiting at the intersection for the light to turn red.

The man was holding a chipped stainless steel thermos. He looked no different from an ordinary office worker who had just finished get off work.

"This man's surname is Lu. He's on vacation this weekend and is going to IKEA to look at furniture."

The mouse smacked the photo hard with its short, stubby fingers, leaving an oily mark.

"He'll also have a woman with him. He won't be wearing a police uniform, and he certainly won't be wearing a bulletproof vest. This is when he's least vigilant."

K stared at the photo for a while.

"Just kill a beat cop?" He spat out the tasteless gum in his mouth.

The crumpled paper flew in an arc and landed precisely in the corner trash can.

"This money is being made way too easily. It's like using a cannon to kill a mosquito."

He reached out his left hand and picked up the infrared tactical goggles on the table.

Put it on your head. Fasten the nylon strap at the back of your head tightly.

Press the power switch on the left side of the goggles. A grid of interwoven data instantly lights up on the lens, with green numbers jumping wildly at the edges.

The red crosshairs converge into a single point in the very center of the field of view.

K picked up the Gauss sniper rifle again. The muzzle slowly pressed down.

The assassin donned infrared tactical goggles, his crosshairs locking onto a photo of Lu Jingyan in civilian clothes. A cruel sneer curled at the corner of his mouth: "A mortal without superpowers, one bullet is enough."