Mastering the Sword Manual, sweeping across the globe

"It's just asking for a name," the young man said. "Why bother?"

As he spoke, the young man raised his right hand, his index finger lightly touching Zhang Wei'an's brow.

Zhang Wei'an's heart tightened, and he instinctively wanted to hide—but he had no idea what he should hide from.

I felt nothing on my forehead.

“That’s right,” the young man withdrew his hand, his tone tinged with helplessness, “It’s Zhang Wei’an…tsk, why do we have to waste our energy?”

Shaking his head, the young man raised his hand a second time and gestured lightly once more.

I still don't feel anything.

Zhang Wei'an stood still, without moving.

"Good night, Director Zhang." After saying that, the young man nodded apologetically in the direction of the woman who was still exclaiming, "I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

After doing all this, the young man walked to the window and then disappeared.

The young woman huddled at the head of the bed, her hands tightly covering her mouth.

Zhang Wei'an stood still, holding another desk lamp in his hand, his gaze fixed on the direction of the floor-to-ceiling window.

The night breeze was still blowing in, causing the curtains to flutter high.

The young people have long since disappeared.

"He...he's gone?" the young woman finally uttered, her voice trembling with tears.

Zhang Wei'an remained silent.

He slowly put down the lamp, walked to the window, and looked outside.

Forty-two floors.

The night wind howled, and the city lights below were dazzling, with cars flowing like a river.

Outside the window was a vertical glass curtain wall, with nothing to hold onto.

He closed the window, turned around, walked back to the table, and looked at the laptop screen.

The meeting room was in an uproar.

"Director Zhang! Director Zhang, are you alright?!"

"Where is that person?!"

"Should we report this to the authorities, Director Zhang...should we report this to the authorities?!"

"Call the hospital! Call an ambulance!"

In the split screen, each face changed color.

Some people stood up, some picked up their phones and dialed, and some called his name into the microphone, their voices distorted.

Zhang Wei'an sat back in his chair and took a deep breath.

"I'm fine," Zhang Weian said.

The voice trembled more than expected.

"That person..." the operations director's voice came from the screen, tinged with obvious tension, "Did he bump into you? Did you feel anything?"

“No,” Zhang Wei’an shook his head. “I just… touched it.”

"You just tapped it?" the head of the strategic development department pressed. "What do you mean?"

Zhang Wei'an raised his hand and, mimicking the young man's gesture, lightly touched his brow from a distance.

“That’s it,” Zhang Wei’an said. “He tapped it twice.”

"What the hell is going on?!"

"What kind of madness is this?"

"Performance art? Or a newly developed business warfare tactic? Surely not?! Impossible?!"

"Whatever it is—it's too fast! This speed is too fast!!"

After the initial shock, the administrative director's voice suddenly broke in, trembling noticeably:

"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Wang's villa is in the west of the city, and Mr. Zhang's hotel is in the east of the city. The two places are at least 15 kilometers apart!"

The meeting room fell silent again.

This time, the silence carried an inexplicable chill.

“From the incident with General Manager Wang…” the administrative director glanced down at the time, his voice dry, “to the attack on General Manager Zhang… only a little over a minute has passed.”

"what?!"

"impossible!"

"Let me check—the incident with Mr. Wang occurred at 2:03, and it's 2:04 now...05 seconds."

In the conference room, everyone looked at the time displayed in the corner of their screens.

The numbers are jumping.

2:04:17. 2:04:19. 2:04:21.

"From the time Mr. Wang was attacked to the time Mr. Zhang appeared..." someone began to calculate, their speech slowing down, "...one minute?"

"At most... seventy seconds."

No one speaks.

Wang Xixue's villa is in the western villa district of the city, while Zhang Weian's hotel is in the eastern financial district.

The straight-line distance is 15 kilometers.

It takes forty minutes to drive there, and half an hour even without traffic.

The subway has been shut down for a long time.

At 2 a.m., it's even hard to hail a taxi.

Seventy seconds.

From the west side of the city to the east side, it takes seventy seconds.

"Hold."

"It's a ghost."

"What the hell is going on?"

In the grid picture of the public relations director, Zhang Weian is sitting in a chair, motionless.

The young woman moved to the side where the camera couldn't capture her, gripping his arm tightly, her body still trembling.

Zhang Weian patted her hand, his eyes fixed on the screen.

"Mr. Wang," he began, "what should we do?"

On the screen, Wang Xixue's grid remained silent for two seconds.

"Call a doctor first," Wang Xixue's microphone finally trembled, "to check if there's anything... abnormal."

The voice just fell.

A young man appeared on the CFO's screen.

"Evacuate! Everyone! Evacuate immediately!!!"

80 years old

Everyone took off running!

Although it seems that, apart from being a little frightened, Mr. Wang, the public relations director, and the finance director are all fine now...

But Huangleme suddenly announced a change, and the spies they had planted said that many of the higher-ups were like people who had been waiting for decades, and suddenly a mysterious person appeared in their homes, a guy who could run 20 kilometers a minute...

With so many clues piling up, and this mysterious person suddenly showing up and tapping everyone on the forehead—it couldn't possibly be the God of Wealth sending blessings on the fifth day of the Lunar New Year, could it?

Everyone took off running!

In the online meeting room, the operations director, the head of strategic development, the legal director, the human resources director... a large portion of the cubicles started shaking simultaneously.

The sound of a chair overturning. Footsteps. Heavy breathing. Someone bumped into something, let out a muffled groan, but didn't stop...

Some ran out of the villa, some rushed to the elevator, some darted out of the private room, and some... well, they weren't able to get out of the way yet, so they had to cover the areas that the camera hadn't been able to see with fabric first.

--------

Third minute.

In front of a detached villa in the west of the city.

The operations director rushed out of his house, barefoot, having lost one of his slippers in the process, but didn't bother to turn back and pick it up.

The car was parked right at the entrance, and the operations director ran around pressing the key while doing so.

The car lights were turned on.

Then, the operations director stopped.

At the edge of the halo, in the direction of the driver's cab, a young man leaned against something.

"You run really fast," the young man said.

--------

Fourth minute.

In a high-end hotel in the eastern part of the city, on the thirteenth floor, the elevator doors opened.

Stepping into the elevator, the legal director was panting heavily.

He was lucky; although the rooms were far apart, the elevator was nearby!

The elevator was stopped on the fifteenth floor, only two floors away from his floor.

Their luck improved even more as the elevator continued its downward journey without anyone pressing the stop button.

12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1—

"Ding."

The door opened.

Someone was standing at the door.

The general counsel looked up.

It was a face I'd seen three times already.

--------

The fifth minute.

Behind the back gate of a club in the west of the city, there is a quiet alley.

The head of the strategic development department had just climbed over a low wall when he twisted his ankle the moment he landed, wincing in pain.

He limped forward, with only one thought in his mind: get away from here, as far away as possible.

The alley was dark, with only a faint light coming from the distant streetlights.

He ran past several trash cans, past a pile of debris, and around a corner—

A hand gently patted his shoulder.

-------

Eighth minute.

Exit of the underground parking lot of an office building in the eastern part of the city.

The HR director was driving his Mercedes, waiting in line to be picked up from the warehouse.

There are three more cars ahead.

The director kept glancing at the rearview mirror, his palms sweating profusely.

After running out of the hotel, he immediately rushed into the underground parking lot, started the car, and sped off.

Once you're on the road and blend into the traffic, you should be safe.