Dual-wielding! 100x proficiency, I'll grind my way to godhood!

Chen Mo returned to the hotel's presidential suite and opened his laptop.

Lu Xingyao was floating in the pool, while Su Wan sat by the window reading a book.

The candlestick chart on the screen flickered, and his fingers rapidly tapped on the keyboard.

The seven million US dollars spent must be recouped double from the Americans.

Over three days, the numbers in the account kept increasing.

Lu Xingyao would occasionally peek over, her eyes widening each time.

When Su Wan brought the coffee over, her gaze lingered on the screen for a moment before she placed the coffee beside him.

"How much?"

Lu Xingyao asked, leaning against the back of the sofa.

"Forty-two thousand."

"US dollars?"

"Um."

Lu Xingyao gasped, counted on her fingers for a moment, and then gave up.

"If my fans knew that I sleep with a man who earns $42 million every three days, the comments section would explode."

"They're already blowing it up."

"That's different. Before, they were just criticizing me, but now that they know this, they'll be green with envy."

Lu Xingyao swung her leg triumphantly, "Just thinking about it feels so good."

Su Wan turned a page of the book without saying anything.

Chen Mo closed his laptop and transferred two million to each of the two women.

That evening, Lu Xingyao changed into a black lace suit, with garter stockings fastened to her thighs and cutouts at the waist.

Su Wan wore a moon-white silk slip dress, the hem of which just covered her thighs, and flesh-colored stockings wrapped around her calves. The hem of the dress swayed gently as she walked.

When the two came out of the bathroom, Lu Xingyao walked in front and Su Wan followed behind.

Chen Mo didn't move. The two of them pressed against each other, one like fire and the other like water.

Hangzhou.

first day.

The ghost checked into the executive suite of the five-star hotel opposite Wang Jun's company.

He wore a navy blue Neapolitan suit with a single-breasted two-button blouse, straight creases, and a French-style tucked shirt with silver cufflinks.

His hair was combed meticulously, and his beard was trimmed to define his jawline.

The receptionist glanced at him a couple more times. Ghost smiled at her and said thank you in English, his voice like a late-night radio host.

At 9:05 a.m., he appeared in the coffee shop downstairs.

He sat in the third seat by the window, drinking hand-brewed Kenyan coffee, without sugar or milk. He closed his eyes and savored the first sip.

At 9:10, Wang Jun's driver walked in.

He was in his forties, slightly overweight, and wearing a dark blue company uniform with the company logo embroidered on the chest.

He walked up to the counter and said, "I'd like an Americano to go, no sugar."

While waiting for his coffee, he looked down at his phone and scrolled through short videos with the sound on loud background music.

The ghost didn't look at him; it was looking out the window.

the next day.

Ghost changed into a light gray Prince of Wales check suit, paired with a burgundy knitted tie.

At 9:05, the third seat by the window, a Kenyan cup. He had already memorized the waiter's name when the cup was brought over; it was Anu, whom he had asked about yesterday.

"Thank you, Anu."

The waiter paused for a moment, then laughed.

At 9:10, Wang Jun's driver walked in.

American style takeaway, no sugar.

While waiting for his coffee, he was still scrolling through short videos with the audio playing aloud.

Ghost picked up his coffee, took a sip, and glanced at the driver's face for less than half a second before looking away.

The driver saw a funny video and chuckled.

The ghost also chuckled, as if amused by the video.

The driver looked up at him, and Ghost raised his coffee cup to him, saying in Chinese, "Good morning."

The driver replied, "Good morning."

Day three.

Ghost changed into a dark gray flannel suit, a white shirt, and a black knitted tie.

At 9:05, it was the third seat by the window.

When Anu served Kenya the cup, he didn't need to say anything; he just smiled and nodded.

At 9:10, the driver came in.

He didn't watch any videos today; he was holding his phone tightly in his hand, and he didn't look well.

I sighed while waiting for my coffee.

Ghost picked up his coffee and took a sip.

"American style, no sugar."

He spoke in Chinese, his voice not loud, as if talking to himself.

Then he turned his head and looked at the driver.

"You order this every day."

The driver turned his head, somewhat surprised.

"Do you remember me?"

"This window seat is mine. You need to come at 9:10 every day."

A ghostly smile.

"It's hard not to notice."

The driver smiled, a slightly embarrassed smile that comes from being remembered.

"The boss only drinks this, so I've gotten used to it."

"bitter."

"What?"

"Americano without sugar is very bitter."

The ghost picked up his coffee.

"Kenya, hand-drip coffee, it's bitter too. But bitterness isn't the same for everyone."

The driver scratched his head. "I don't know much about coffee."

"I don't understand either."

The ghost laughed. "Just pretending to know."

The driver was amused by him.

The coffee was ready. He picked it up and held it up to the ghost.

"See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

Ghost finished the last sip of coffee and closed the notebook on the table.

The notebook had two words written on it: "foot and hands".

He put the notebook into his suit pocket and smiled at Anu: "The coffee is good. See you tomorrow."

As he walked out of the coffee shop, his leather shoes made no sound on the marble floor.

His silhouette was reflected in the glass door: a navy blue suit, a white shirt, silver cufflinks, and his hair was perfectly styled.

Bangkok, Long Ge's villa.

Akai parked a modified pickup truck in front of the villa, with five military green wooden crates in the truck bed.

Brother Long jumped out of the passenger seat, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

Ah Kai pulled a crowbar from the truck bed, walked to the first wooden crate, and pressed it down, causing the crate lid to pop open.

"Barrett".

The smell of gun oil wafted out.

The Barrett's barrel gleamed coldly in the sunlight, like a sleeping black snake.

Chen Mo squatted down and touched it. The cold, metallic touch traveled up from his fingertips; it was heavy and hard.

Akai pried open the second one.

"Armor-piercing projectile."

Rows of brass cartridge cases were neatly stacked in the foam tank.

The third.

"C4".

The plastic explosive blocks were wrapped in oil paper and stacked in four layers.

the fourth.

Night vision goggles.

Two sets, with helmet brackets.

Akai wedged the crowbar into the fifth box.

Chen Mo looked up and asked Brother Long, "Do you have a Gatling gun?"

Brother Long almost dropped his cigarette.

"What do you need that thing for?"

"I need it urgently, right now."

Brother Long put the cigarette back in his mouth and remained silent for a while.

Kai's crowbar stopped in mid-air, unsure whether he should press it down.

I don't have a Gatling gun.

Brother Long flicked his cigarette ash.

"However, I know someone, General Prasong of the Royal Thai Army. He's greedy and has sold quite a few good things in private. He definitely has some."

"It's good to be greedy; money is the last thing I lack."

Brother Long stubbed out his cigarette on the sole of his shoe, his eyes serious.

"But this guy is hard to deal with. He only sells weapons depending on his mood. If he's in a good mood, he'll make a deal with you over a cup of tea. If he's in a bad mood, he won't even let you in the door."

Chen Mo looked at Brother Long.

"Also, he has a daughter who just returned from college in the United States, and he dotes on her like the apple of his eye. If you talk business with him, never mention his daughter, or he'll turn on you immediately."

"Where is his daughter?"

Brother Long was stunned for a moment.

"Just got back to Bangkok, he should be at his estate. Why are you asking?"

"I want to see if I can use my good looks to my advantage."

Brother Long looked at Chen Mo warily. He also had a daughter who was studying in the United States…

Akai's crowbar was still stuck on the fifth box.

"Brother Mo, should we pry this one off or not?"

"pry."

The lid popped open.

Inside is a military drone equipped with a high-definition camera and thermal imaging; its wings are folded, resembling a sleeping metal bat.

Brother Long threw his cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out. He glanced at the drone, then at Chen Mo.

"You play with this for now. I'll figure out a way to deal with the Gatling gun."

"Okay, send these things to your warehouse, and I'll have someone pick them up. The payment for this shipment will be transferred to you tonight."

Chen Mo stood up, ready to leave.

Kai delivered the five wooden crates to the warehouse and dusted off his hands when he returned.

"Brother Long, what does Brother Mo need the Gatling gun for?"

Brother Long lit a cigarette and looked at the floor-to-ceiling windows on the second floor of the villa.

"I don't know, but it's definitely not for shooting birds."

P.S.: I'm so tired. I've finished writing two chapters today, that's all for now.