March 7, 1992.
At around five-thirty in the afternoon, Han Qingyu and his group sat down for dinner. They had no shift scheduled tonight, but Boss Dao had instructed them at noon to head over early.
Dinner had been prepared by Zhe Qiuhong. It was her very first time cooking, and she had made two dishes.
One was roughly four kinds of leafy greens, washed, chopped, and tossed together. Two of them were wild herbs she had gathered nearby.
Wild herbs in a foreign land were unfamiliar to everyone, but because she was a medical expert, they trusted her when she said they were edible.
Besides, Han Qingyu and Wu Xu were hardly so easy to poison to death these days.
The greens were uncooked, but the other dish—some precious chicken purchased from outside—had been boiled. She had cooked it in plain water, scooped it out, and then used the remaining broth to boil chicken noodle soup.
After setting the food on the table, Zhe Qiuhong went to wash her hands. The running water lasted slightly longer than usual; she was likely a bit nervous.
"Why is there no flavor at all, Chef Zhe?" Wen Jifei took a bite, a noodle dangling from his lips as he looked up with a grinning shout.
"Really? Heavy salt is bad for your health," Zhe Qiuhong replied placidly. She came over, tasted a spoonful herself, turned back to the kitchen to grab a pinch of salt, and carefully measured out a few grains into each person's bowl.
Sitting back down calmly, she stirred her food and began eating.
Everyone stirred theirs too. *Chomp, crunch, chomp, crunch.*
"Who would've thought raw leaves could taste so crisp and refreshing? But the chicken really is bland." He Tangtang paused, then added, "Though the knife work is incredible. I've never seen such neatly carved chicken in my life."
The chicken had been cut by Zhe Qiuhong with a scalpel, every piece finely contoured with distinct grain.
"Eating like this is actually better for your health and your physiques."
After saying that, Zhe Qiuhong paused to consider. Perhaps realizing these people didn't need to fret much over their health or figures, she reached over to pour some vinegar over the plain boiled chicken, hesitated again, and added two spoonfuls of chili flakes.
Stirring it with serving chopsticks, she took the lead and began eating.
Han Qingyu found himself missing his mother. After a moment of contemplation, he tested the waters gingerly: "How about we eat out in the future? Doing this is too much hard work for you, Dr. Zhe..."
"I will improve. I'll adjust to your tastes. I'm going to take notes and organize them shortly." This time, Zhe Qiuhong didn't look up as she spoke, stuffing a piece of chicken into her cheek.
*Outrageous!* Rusty Sister whipped her head around and glared fiercely at the five guys. Outside onlookers couldn't see her eyes, so how did she glare? She simply snapped her head around with a sharp *clack*, fixing her sight on you without moving an inch—that was her glare.
At this moment, the setting sun cast its glow right over the threshold. The clothes washed that morning had dried, hanging light and fluttering gently on the clothesline in the breeze.
The five exchanged glances, then lowered their heads and began wolfing down the food.
After dinner, they returned to their respective rooms and changed into dark-toned, ordinary-looking clothes that appeared quite worn. In reality, these were combat uniforms prepared specifically before coming here—top-tier grade, extremely durable and resilient.
It was truly a blessing they had brought these along, or they would have soon run out of money to buy clothes. If one wore regular clothing into battle, ruining a set every single fight was guaranteed, and ordinary combat uniforms here cost thirty thousand US dollars a set according to what they had asked about that afternoon.
Each person strapped a blade across their back.
They were all blades, appearing outwardly not much different from standard Azure military sabers. Yet three of them were in fact top-tier weapons of this world, held respectively by Han Qingyu, Wu Xu, and He Tangtang.
Checking devices, checking source energy blocks, checking the release of metal cases... cross-checking each other. Even in the City of Iniquity, for a mere skirmish, the five still carried out their pre-combat preparations strictly according to the full procedure of an Azure squad.
With everything ready, they were just about to head out the door when Ao Yong and Qian Daofeng slammed on the brakes of their heavy garbage truck right outside the entrance.
This was earlier than their usual clock-off time. From the state the two were in as they climbed down, it was evident they had rushed all the way back in a hurry.
"Thank goodness you haven't left yet. At noon we were so busy being happy for you that we forgot." Qian Daofeng turned to shut the door as he spoke. When he turned back, a look of worry surfaced in his eyes. "There are two things we absolutely must tell you before you set out."
The five stood listening. Han Qingyu nodded.
Qian Daofeng looked at them. Sticking to the mental draft he had prepared along the road, he asked in a low, serious voice, "When it comes to fighting, do you think it's more profitable to cut down people or cut down Great Spikes?"
The five froze for a second.
*Well, that depends on whether I snatch the metal blocks or not,* Han Qingyu thought to himself.
"What I mean is, in a freelance band like this, after killing a Great Spike together, the five of you might split three to four blocks. After subtracting combat consumption, you'll profit two blocks at most. But if someone takes advantage of the chaos in battle to secretly cut down allies, each corpse yields at least one block, even if it's not fully charged..."
Qian Daofeng continued. With the door closed, the room was somewhat dim, and combined with his tone, he managed to conjure a chilling, eerie atmosphere.
Even the twilight filtering in through the crack beneath the door felt blood-red.
"Didn't realize you were such a ruthless guy, Little Daofeng," Zhu Jiaming remarked with a slight smirk, a faint hint of appreciation in his eyes.
When it came to betrayal, abandonment, and selling people out, the Young Prince had always been an expert.
Granted, he had recently been betrayed by his own trusted subordinates. And on top of that, he had encountered a roughly matched rival.
Right now, that very person stood beside him.
Turning his head, he met Wen Jifei's eyes, and both smiled warmly at each other.
"Thinking back, it really is wonderful how much we can trust one another," Zhu Jiaming spoke first.
"Isn't it, though?! Not a single thing to worry about," Wen Jifei chimed in.
"Remember last time, supporting each other as we fled for our lives?"
"Of course. Scene after scene, still fresh in my mind. Back then, it was all thanks to the Young Prince sacrificing himself to draw away so many pursuers; otherwise, our plight would've been far worse."
"When I saw you guys standing there covered in blood waiting for me afterward, tears filled my eyes too."
"No, I wasn't telling you to do that, nor was I saying you need to guard against each other!" Listening to them, Qian Daofeng grew thoroughly bewildered and had to interrupt: "What I mean is, once you're out there, be careful and watch out for other people!"
Qian Daofeng explained that this sort of thing used to happen all the time, especially in freelance bands, where teammates were sometimes more terrifying than Great Spikes. Back then, the freelance bands in the City of Iniquity were on the verge of collapsing entirely. Later, someone had to step forward and gather the major bosses of the freelance bands to establish a targeted rule: anyone caught engaging in such acts would be hunted down by all freelance bands collectively once verified.
This rule unexpectedly gained the public support of several high-ranking factions in the City of Iniquity. Even Shu You had publicly declared that, if necessary, his forces could join in the manhunt.
"They are maintaining the basic ecology of this city," Zhe Qiuhong suddenly interjected.
Han Qingyu nodded. "Yeah."
"I don't understand ecology or whatever. Anyway, the rule was established, and a batch of people were indeed slaughtered, so things improved a lot afterward." It had only improved, Qian Daofeng cautioned. "Yet it still happens. There are always people willing to take desperate risks, and some pull it off without leaving a trace. Besides..."
He hesitated briefly before adding, "Besides, word on the street is that some freelance bosses secretly orchestrate this sort of thing themselves. That makes it nearly impossible to catch."
"Boss Dao?!" He Tangtang asked.
Qian Daofeng hastily shook his head. "No, while Boss Dao has his quirks and the casualty rate in his band isn't low, his overall reputation is actually quite decent. Otherwise, our ship wouldn't hire him every year. He treats people fairly."
"Yeah." Ao Yong nodded, taking over. "We trust him a lot; otherwise, we never would've recommended you to him. Still, there are rumors."
Looking somewhat hesitant, Ao Yong glanced at Qian Daofeng. "Because there's one very strange thing about Boss Dao: he just never dies..."
"He's not that old, is he?" He Tangtang asked.
"I mean he consistently, unfailingly manages not to die! It's happened several times—no matter how horrific the battle, he always survives. A few times we heard the news and were already getting ready to mourn him, only for him to pop up on the street wrapped from head to toe in gauze... In short, nobody can explain it. Because of that, some outsiders whisper that he sets up his brothers, while another theory says he's just insanely, outrageously lucky. Pure dumb luck."
"I believe that... I mean, I believe the latter," Han Qingyu chimed in, his tone rather confident.
Qian Daofeng and Ao Yong looked at him, asked no further questions, and simply said:
"Right, so what we wanted to say is: since this is your first time going, remember that when it's time to run, do not try to hold the line, and certainly don't try to show off. If possible, try your best to stay close to Boss Dao."
***
"Listen up. Considering it's your first time out, stick by my side. Don't worry, I'll cover for you—as long as you follow orders."
A group of people lay prone beneath an earthen mound as Boss Dao spoke.
It was currently past eleven at night, over eighty kilometers northeast of the City of Iniquity.
There was no moon in the night sky, and the surroundings were pitch-black. The Black members of the freelance band seemed to have vanished into thin air.
Because this particular band had a fairly large proportion of Black members, the darkness suddenly gave off the illusion that there were very few people, leaving them feeling isolated and undermanned.
"Did they sneak off? Or are they hiding?" He Tangtang craned his neck, looking around in all directions.
"They're here, don't worry." Boss Dao put two fingers into his mouth and blew a sharp, low whistle.
This seemed to be an established habit.
Hearing the sound, the Black squad members lying in ambush around them collectively lifted their heads and grinned.
In the black night, row upon row of white teeth flashed.
"See that? All accounted for," Boss Dao said.
"Then what are those two rows of teeth back there doing?" Had it not been for that grin, Wen Jifei wouldn't have noticed that forty to fifty meters behind them, on another earthen ridge, two more Black men were lying flat.
If this was supposed to be an echeloned ambush, those two were lying far too distant and isolated.
"Recording strikes! Don't you know?"
Speaking Huaxian with a slight accent, the one who spoke this time was a trusted subordinate beside Boss Dao. It was said he had followed Dao for three years and miraculously survived, currently ranking as Dao's second-in-command within the band. He was a foreigner named Filio.
Strike recorders were a specialty unique to freelance bands in the City of Iniquity. Considered a type of public service post, it required backing from major factions to perform. Usually, two went out per operation; they did not take part in combat, only recording battlefield contributions so no one slacked off.
Their records served as the most vital basis for distributing source energy blocks after the fight.
"Actually, their most important job is guarding against backstabbers in our ranks!" Boss Dao added coldly, his gaze sweeping across the faces of Han Qingyu and his four companions one by one.
Chapter 436