Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Quinn stared at the lone figure walking in the wind and snow in the distance. He remembered this person; Boss Lori had been keeping an eye on him these past few days.

That young man named Xilun.

He didn't look particularly robust, even somewhat thin, and wore faded work clothes, his silhouette stretching long under the streetlights.

Quinn swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

Siren walked steadily, at a moderate pace, but Quinn could never find an opportunity.

That brat always goes to crowded places. If we open fire now, he won't be able to escape and will be caught.

He followed along the way, becoming increasingly anxious, his palms sweating and melting into the snowmelt!

"Um?"

Quinn's spirits lifted.

Xilun turned into a narrow, dimly lit alley, a place usually frequented only by stray cats and drunkards.

"Chance!"

The word popped into Quinn's head.

He took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs, pulled his hat brim down low, and quickly followed.

The alley was dark and murky, with only a faint glow coming in from the streetlight at the alley entrance.

Quinn stood at the alley entrance, his pupils blinking slightly, as if he were not used to it.

His right hand slid unconsciously into his sleeve, his cold fingertips touching the rough handle of the "Pepper Box".

nobody.

The dead-end alley was eerily deserted.

Panic and fear surged through Quinn's mind, and he looked around anxiously.

"How is that possible..."

Just then, the wind overhead suddenly ripped apart.

A dark shadow, like a hawk hunting its prey, fell silently from the high wall.

"Snap!"

A sharp, teeth-grinding crack.

Using the gravitational potential energy of his fall, Celen slammed his knees into Quinn's chest like battering rams.

"puff--"

Quinn didn't even have time to scream before the air in his chest was instantly squeezed out, and he crashed heavily to the ground like a flattened toad.

The excruciating pain caused his eyes to bulge and become bloodshot instantly. Instinctively, he wanted to raise his right hand and pull the trigger of the pistol he had been gripping tightly.

However, it was too late.

Xilun moved as fast as a black lightning bolt.

The moment he landed, his hands gripped Quinn's wrists like iron clamps.

Without the slightest hesitation, Xilun expressionlessly exerted force with both hands and suddenly bent downwards.

"ah--!!"

The agonizing scream had barely escaped his throat when it was forcefully slammed back down by a heavy punch from Xilun.

The punch landed squarely on Quinn's stomach.

Quinn's body suddenly arched into the shape of a shrimp, spewing out a mouthful of acidic bile, his eyes rolling back instantly, his consciousness on the verge of collapse under the impact of the excruciating pain.

But he was still clutching the gun tightly in his hand.

A glint of savagery flashed in Xilun's eyes, giving his opponent no chance to breathe.

He pressed down on Quinn's head with his left hand, grabbed his chin with his right, and suddenly twisted his waist and abdomen with both hands.

"Click."

The crisp sound of a cervical spine breaking was particularly jarring in the quiet alley.

Quinn's massive body twitched violently before collapsing completely, like a lump of mud.

Those bloodshot eyes remained fixed, as if they couldn't understand why the roles of hunter and prey had been reversed in an instant, even in death.

Xilun released his grip, letting the corpse slide down.

He was breathing heavily, his heart pounding violently in his chest.

Although it wasn't his first time killing someone, the thrill of walking on the edge of life and death still made his muscles tense.

"call……"

Exhaling a puff of white breath, Xilun quickly calmed down.

Without any hesitation, he crouched down and quickly searched the still-warm body.

His movements were as practiced as those of a seasoned butcher.

Soon, the spoils were in hand.

A roughly made but well-maintained "Pepperbox" pistol, and a roll of banknotes still warm from body heat.

By the dim moonlight, Siron counted the money; it was a full twenty pounds.

This huge sum of money surprised him slightly.

Xilun stuffed the money and gun into his pocket, turned and disappeared into the vast night.

……

Back in the warehouse dormitory in the dock area, the sound of snoring was like thunder, and some of the workers were already sleeping like dead pigs.

Xilun walked to the sink in the corner and turned on the rusty faucet.

The icy cold tap water washed over my hands, wiping away the sweat from my palms.

He looked up at his pale yet stern face in the mirror, water droplets dripping from his hair.

"Who would spend twenty pounds to kill me?"

He had no connections or enemies in the city; the only point of conflict was the dispute over the supervisory position over the past few days.

"Morgan..."

Xilun murmured the name.

Apart from the dock foreman whose position he was about to replace, no one else had the motive or ability to hire someone.

"Kill him."

Once this thought arises, it grows wildly in your mind like weeds.

Xilun knew Morgan's character very well: ruthless, vicious, and unscrupulous.

The gunman failed today, and Morgan will know tomorrow.

If we alert them, the next time Siren might face an even more meticulously planned attack.

If you're a thief for a thousand days, how can you guard against thieves for a thousand days?

Instead of anxiously waiting for the other party to make a move, why not take advantage of the fact that the other party thinks victory is in their grasp and is least vigilant tonight, and send them straight to hell!

Xilun splashed cold water on his face to fully clear his mind.

He quickly formulated an action plan in his mind.

Morgan didn't live in the slums; he lived in a red-brick working-class neighborhood near the downtown area. Although it wasn't a wealthy area, there were police patrols there, and the security was much better than here.

Xilun had passed by that red brick building several times.

It is a detached house with a two-meter-high wall.

"Using guns is very dangerous; avoid using them unless absolutely necessary!"

Xilun touched the pepper box in his arms.

It's best to use a knife, or even bare hands.

After a moment's hesitation, he returned to his bed, took off his clothes, and lay down.

The chatter in the dormitory gradually faded, followed by a chorus of snores.

Until the moon climbed overhead...

Xilun opened his eyes, calmly got up, and took the black clothes hanging at the foot of the bed to put on.

He carried the gun on his body and tucked the dagger into his trouser leg.

Then, he tiptoed to the stove outside the house, grabbed a handful of soot from the bottom of the pot, and smeared it evenly on his face, neck, and even the back of his hands.

His once delicate features instantly turned dark and blurry.

Then, he carried the ladder from the large communal sleeping area and walked out with a natural expression.

The snow outside is falling heavier and heavier.

The goose-feather-like snowflakes covered all the footprints and swallowed all the sounds.

Occasionally, someone would walk by and, upon seeing Xilun's face covered in coal dust and the conspicuous long ladder on his shoulder, would nod slightly and look away.

"Even those who light lamps suffer..."

A middle-aged woman passing by looked away and sighed softly.

Even on such a cold night, they would carry ladders and run around to turn off the manually controlled gas lamps.

Xilun made it smoothly to the red-brick working-class area.

The streetlights here are much brighter than in the slums, and the rows of neat red brick buildings look especially peaceful in the snowy night.

Morgan's house was right in front of him.