Courtyard House: First, kill the hypocrites, leave none alive.

In the early morning, the shantytown resembled a vast, sleeping graveyard.

The low, cramped shacks were crammed together, their crooked shapes creating eerie silhouettes in the night. There were no streetlights, only a few scattered windows letting in the dim glow of kerosene lamps, like will-o'-the-wisps flickering in a graveyard. The alleyways were so narrow that only one person could pass at a time; sewage flowed across the ground, and the air was thick with the stench of mold, rotting garbage, and an indescribable, bitter smell of the struggle for survival at the bottom of society.

Chen Feng hunched over, like a wildcat moving through the shadows. He walked slowly and lightly, each step firm and careful, avoiding broken glass and empty cans on the ground. His ears were perked up, catching every suspicious sound. His eyes, like those of a nocturnal animal, adapted to the darkness, scanning every corner and every shadow that might be hiding someone.

Two months of fleeing and killing had honed him into a sophisticated hunting machine. Fear, exhaustion, and pain—things that most people couldn't bear—were merely obstacles he had to overcome. He had only one thought in his mind: to find Xiaoyu.

After leaving the orphanage, he reconsidered his thoughts. Director Zhou's words reminded him—if Xiaoyu was still alive and intentionally hiding, she likely wouldn't be in a conventional place. A chaotic and poorly managed area like a shantytown would be the ideal hiding place. Although he had searched before, it might not have been thorough enough, or Xiaoyu might have deliberately avoided times when he was likely to appear.

So he came, in the deepest of nights, sneaking into the dirtiest corner of the city.

The wound on his right shoulder had completely healed, leaving only a taut, powerful sensation. The knife wound on his back had also healed well, not affecting his movements at all. The grip of the Type 54 pistol at his waist was warm from being held in his palms, and the magazine was full. The dagger was tucked into his boot, ready to be drawn at any moment. A canvas bag was slung across his shoulder, containing necessities that wouldn't hinder his combat abilities.

He drifted through the alleyways like a silent fallen leaf. Occasionally, a drunkard would stagger past on his way home, and he would immediately slip into the shadows, emerging only after the man had passed. Stray dogs rummaging through the garbage would bar their teeth and growl when they saw him, but a cold glare from him would send them tucking their tails between their legs and scurrying away.

Time passed slowly. A faint grayish-white tinge began to appear in the eastern sky, like the very edge of a fish's belly. Three in the morning is when people are most sleepy and least alert, and also when nocturnal animals are most active.

Chen Feng stopped at a relatively open fork in the road. There were a few slightly more "neat" shacks there, some even with tattered curtains hanging at the entrances. He remembered that he hadn't searched this area thoroughly the last time he was here. Just as he was about to walk forward, his ears suddenly caught a strange sound.

It wasn't the sound of the wind, nor the howling of wild dogs, but... a suppressed, excited whisper, coming from around the corner ahead.

Chen Feng immediately squatted down, shrank behind a pile of discarded bamboo baskets, and held his breath.

Footsteps. Three, no, four people. A chaotic, unsteady gait, as if they were drunk, or... in a state of heightened excitement.

"Damn it...this time...this time we've struck it rich..." A rough, hoarse male voice gasped for breath, his voice filled with ecstasy.

"Five thousand... five hundred from the Zhao family... one thousand from Scarface's brother... all together... enough for us brothers to live a carefree life for half a year..." Another voice, younger and sharper.

"Keep your voice down! Don't fucking yell!" a third voice snapped, sounding like the leader. "Hold onto the stuff! This is proof! The person is definitely still in this area, can't have gone far! Search carefully again at dawn, turn every house upside down! We have to find them, even if we have to dig three feet into the ground!"

Chen Feng's heart skipped a beat. The Zhao family? Scarface's brother? 1,500? Proof?

He quietly shifted his position and peered out through the gap in the bamboo basket.

Four figures emerged from around the corner. They were all men, varying in height and build, dressed in dirty work clothes or cotton-padded jackets. One of them was clutching something tightly in his hand, which Chen Feng could clearly see even in the dim light—it was a piece of cloth, a light blue cotton cloth with small white flowers.

Chen Feng's pupils suddenly contracted.

The pattern... the fabric... he knew it all too well!

The new cotton-padded jacket that Mom stayed up all night to alter for Xiaoyu had this pattern! A light blue background with tiny white flowers, it was Xiaoyu's favorite. Because the family wasn't well-off, new clothes were rare, and Xiaoyu was so happy when she received it that she hugged her mother and spun around in circles.

Later... later the house caught fire, and everything burned down. He thought that the cotton-padded coat had also turned to ashes along with his parents.

But now, this fragment has appeared in the hands of these guys who are clearly thugs!

Did they find Xiaoyu? Or at least find traces of Xiaoyu?

A surge of ecstasy and chilling killing intent rushed to Chen Feng's head simultaneously. His muscles tensed instantly, like a cheetah about to pounce on its prey.

The four men had clearly lowered their guard, assuming that they were the only ones in the shantytown at this hour. They huddled together, heads close to the piece of rag, excitedly whispering amongst themselves.

"Absolutely right! It's the exact same color as described in the bounty! Light blue, with small white flowers!"

"The person is definitely nearby! Maybe hiding in some dog hole!"

"Brother, let's not make a fuss yet. Let's wait until dawn, then surround this area and check each house one by one! Then..."

"After we collect the reward money, let's go to Donglaishun for some hot pot!"

"Hahaha……"

Overjoyed, they unconsciously raised their voices.

It's now!

Chen Feng made a move.

He leaped out from behind the bamboo basket with the speed of a black lightning bolt. In the instant the four heard the noise and looked up in astonishment, he was already within five meters of them.

Draw your gun, aim, and pull the trigger!

The movement was executed in one smooth motion, without the slightest hesitation.

"die!"

A deep roar burst from Chen Feng's throat, mingling with the sound of gunfire, exploding in the quiet of the early morning.

boom!boom!

The two men at the front, one shot in the forehead and the other with a burst of blood in his chest, fell backward without uttering a sound. The tattered cloth in their hands fluttered to the ground.

The two men behind them were stunned by the sudden attack. They saw their companion's head explode and blood gushing from his chest, they saw the cold, bloodthirsty eyes in the darkness, and they saw the muzzle of a gun spitting fire.

Fear gripped them instantly.

"Run!" the leader shouted hoarsely, turning around to try and disappear into the depths of the alley.

How could Chen Feng let them get away?

He flicked his wrist, and the muzzle of the gun shifted slightly.

boom!

The third shot hit the leader in the thigh. The man screamed and collapsed to the ground, writhing and clutching his leg.

The younger one was so terrified that his legs gave way and he collapsed to the ground, his crotch instantly soaked and filled with a foul stench.

Chen Feng strode forward, stepping on the chest of the screaming man on the ground to stop him from rolling. With his other hand, he held a gun, coldly pointing it at the young man slumped on the ground.

The muzzle was still emitting wisps of smoke, which were particularly glaring in the dim light.