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墨書 Inktalez
There is one person I am certain of, and that is me. No matter how the personnel are divided, I must act with Ah Xiang and the others. What I need to do now is find a partner for myself. Although Fatty has already appeared in front of Ah Xiang, I immediately ruled him out as my partner; there is no way I will let Fatty into this operation, even if it raises suspicions with Ah Xiang.
Xiao Ting? Forget it. Although Xiao Ting also studies Archaeology and may have participated in field Archaeological Activities, this mission is far too dangerous and completely different from ordinary Archaeological Activities. If something goes wrong, I would have to protect her, which would push my limits.
That leaves only Jack. I couldn't help but chuckle bitterly; this combination could work. Two Vietnamese, one Caucasian, and the other two with Ah Xiang remain silent about their origins. Adding myself makes it a truly multinational team.
Fatty will likely react the strongest to this grouping. I have a feeling and am prepared to face his anger; I plan to take this opportunity to vent my frustrations. I've had enough of being led around by him on this trip.
I also need to consider what happens if Ah Xiang and Cao Mingzhe have different destinations when I confront Ah Xiang. Now I have time to propose the fifty thousand USD on my bank card; at that point, I could directly buy information with money. But what if he refuses? When he informed me about the equipment he was carrying, he mentioned explosives, which means he might be armed. If Fatty is in my group, his personal combat skills or his weapon could overpower the others. Even Fatty's imposing physique and fierce demeanor would be enough to intimidate them.
However, being in a group with Jack requires caution. Jack looks relatively strong, but he isn't much stronger than me; at best, he's just a muscular guy without the visual impact of Fatty. Moreover, Jack's identity as an Archaeology scholar makes me hesitant to rely on him if things turn sour with Ah Xiang; I might end up depending solely on my own combat abilities—hopefully, Jack won't drag me down.
If things escalate to the point where I need to confront Ah Xiang directly, I'll have to seize the opportunity to be alone with him. I'm confident that one-on-one against Ah Xiang, I have a high chance of winning—of course, that's assuming he isn't armed. This means that after my monetary persuasion fails, I must act quickly to subdue him without giving him a chance to draw a weapon or call for help.
I was so absorbed in these thoughts that the water in my teacup had gone cold without me taking a sip. This tea house not only serves tea but also features some ethnic cultural performances; however, my position was too far off to hear clearly or see what was happening on stage. Alongside the tea set on my table were two or three local snacks; I only touched a piece of cake and left everything else untouched.
I rubbed my swollen forehead while considering how to handle Xiao Ting and ensure she follows orders—this would be no easier than dealing with Fatty. With Fatty, I could resort to force; if he really acted up, I'd threaten him with his embarrassing moments in Laos. Since he plans to show off in front of Xiao Ting, he shouldn't expect to do so in front of me either—I need leverage over him this time around. But when it comes to Xiao Ting, I can't bring myself to be harsh; her anxiety and sorrow over Xiao Guolin's uncertain fate are palpable. It's already been incredibly tough for her just to hold on until now—how could I bear to give her an even greater blow? I need to think this through carefully.
I picked up my teacup only to realize it had gone cold; even the cup itself felt devoid of warmth. Yet I didn't ask for fresh water because suddenly an unusual feeling washed over me. It seemed like my corner was entirely different from the atmosphere of the tea house as a whole. To think quietly, I'd chosen a secluded spot where the lighting was dim. In fact, as you move away from the central stage in this tea house, the lighting grows darker—likely designed to highlight the stage in the middle. But now I noticed that my position was particularly shadowy; not only could I not see the stage clearly, but even the sounds were muffled—a faint applause echoed from what seemed like a distant place.
This strange sensation gave rise to deep fear within me. I felt every hair on my body stand on end as adrenaline surged through me—a profound sense of crisis flooded my mind. As I withdrew my gaze from the stage, having sat too long in darkness made my eyes quickly adapt when turning towards brighter areas again. When I turned away from the stage towards my left side, a pair of gleaming eyes appeared just two steps away—eyes like those of a wolf in the night.
I immediately sensed danger; this was where my sense of crisis originated from. However, the owner of those wolf-like eyes moved swiftly and lunged at me before I could react. With no other option available, I threw my teacup at his face just as I saw a glinting short blade slicing towards my neck—silent as a wolf's claw.
I thought that throwing the teacup delayed his attack momentarily; during that instant of hesitation, I caught sight of that shiny short knife. With a sudden push against the ground, I leaned back sharply but felt severe pain shoot through my jaw as my entire body fell backward onto the floor. The wolf-eyed assailant saw that I'd evaded his lethal strike and showed no signs of stopping as he lunged down at me with his knife.
Lying on the ground after such a hard fall—my survival instinct had kicked in too strongly—I nearly knocked myself unconscious against the floorboards. There was no time for consideration or rolling over; on my left side was a wall and on my right was a chair—if I rolled over without escaping quickly enough, exposing my back would be tantamount to delivering myself into his hands.
Most importantly, I'm not accustomed to presenting my back to an enemy; I'd rather let him stab me in the chest than allow him to strike from behind me. Fortunately, when I fell down, both legs were slightly bent; now with all my strength focused on kicking out like a martial arts move resembling "Rabbit Kicking Eagle," I aimed for him.
My left foot missed its target but slid past his side instead—a critical mistake that sent sharp pain tearing through my left chest as the knife pierced into me. Many people might give up resisting under such severe pain, but I knew exactly what caused it—the short knife—and if I relaxed even slightly, it would plunge into my heart.
Enduring through that intense pain reflexively propelled my right leg outward instead. Thankfully this kick found its mark; at that moment, years of training and excellent physical conditioning showed their worth as I saw a shadow fly up high above me across the table before disappearing from view.
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