Cleanup Contract

Shenwei District, the Lianwei Heavy Control Company Building. In an office on the company's thirty-first floor, Zhao Qian held a glass, slowly sipping his drink as he stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing outside. The interior was styled completely in the modern era's taste, replete with dull metallic reflections and pervasive fluorescent trimmings, stark and somber yet punctuated by sharp, glaring light. Rain streamed down the glass curtain wall, reflecting his silhouette: a young man in his early twenties, standing a slender one point nine eight meters tall, clad in a well-tailored imported formal suit. His eyes were slightly narrow, his handsome face cool and aloof, and his ash-white dyed hair was brushed neatly upward. Faint, nearly imperceptible embedded seams ran along his cheek and neck—traces of an embedded boundary credential. This custom boundary credential, procured at tremendous expense, was practically fused with his body. It could heal itself by drawing on his own tissue and caused zero interference during combat, while also boasting internal shielding capable of effectively warding off attacks from resonators. He looked ahead at a colossal, brooding structure that loomed like a black void against the surrounding sea of bright neon lights—a dead beast standing motionless in the rainy night. That was once the headquarters of Molan Company. Its exterior walls resembled closed flower petals, their long, sweeping curves tapering together toward the crest. He had been there before. Within it was a transit area known as the Highland Sky-Stair—an exclusive passage reserved only for the chief executive and board directors, leading directly from the uppermost landing pad down into the company's subterranean facility. That place had once radiated dazzling brilliance, but now all of it was gone. The Molan of the past had long withered and fallen. Everything of value inside, including the entire building, had been confiscated by the Great Shun government, while its external markets were divvied up and absorbed by rival corporations. In fact, as revealed by files declassified after the fact, ever since the active conscious entity Molan Company had just cultivated was destroyed forty-three years ago, the company was doomed never to rank among the top tier of enterprises. The subsequent attacks it suffered were merely extensions and aftershocks of that initial strike. Although Molan had refused to resign itself to collapse, struggling desperately to prolong its life, in the end it was still torn apart and devoured. Back when he first arrived in Center City, he had already noticed Molan Company's predicament. That was why he had joined Lianwei Heavy Control Company early on and secretly shifted a portion of the Zhao family business to Center City. All that remained in Wuyi was the family's joint operations with Molan Company—business they couldn't untangle themselves from. He hadn't shared Molan's true situation with his family back then, because even in its decline, Molan could still crush the Zhao family with ease. He couldn't afford to let that slip. He could only make discreet preparations and jump ship before it sank. Events had proven him right. Cutting ties with Molan relatively early had kept him from being dragged under. Yet he was still a member of the Zhao clan after all; reaping benefits had also brought its share of trouble. Inquiries from the government and interrogations from within the company came one after another, forcing him to expend money and connections to smooth things over. Handling all this had consumed the lion's share of his energy recently. Fortunately, it was nearly all resolved now. For once, he had the leisure to stand here enjoying his favorite beverage, "Mellow Blood." This specially concocted drink stimulated his mutated tissue and kept his mood pleasantly buoyant. Just then, an internal communication came through his boundary credential. He connected and asked, "What is it?" "Young Master, a dossier came through from the Xuan Palace Building. You might want to take a look." "Send it over." Zhao Qian raised his glass and took a sip. A student's dossier appeared on the light screen before him. As he looked at the name, his pupils constricted involuntarily. He remembered clearly that this student had played a crucial role throughout the destruction of the Mutual Aid Society and Molan Company. That day, Wei Jun had called him begging for help, but the people he dispatched were intercepted halfway. Following that came the annihilation of the Mutual Aid Society, the seizure of his family's assets and business by the government, the downfall of Molan Company, and a cascade of other disasters. Afterward, he came to believe this student was most likely a pawn of the Great Shun government; otherwise, it was impossible for someone to be involved so coincidentally and even appear to have driven the entire chain of events forward. He had already learned earlier that this student had obtained a spot at the Center City Main Academy, but he had been occupied with his own affairs and lacked the time or energy to deal with it. Now that it was laid right in front of him, his good mood instantly soured. He read down line by line, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper. When he reached the bottom, his expression turned distinctly grim. For right there, the evaluation for reaching the third limit was listed as "81%"! Eighty-one percent... His gaze turned cold. A numerical evaluation might not fully reflect the actual reality, but it guaranteed the baseline. At this rate, the student entering the third limit was practically beyond doubt. Once the student reached that realm just as he had, there was so much he could do. Assuming this student felt things weren't over, or certain people felt things weren't over, then... He realized he couldn't just sit idly by. Even if he paid no attention to the student, could he guarantee the student wouldn't come looking for him? Would this student believe Zhao Qian harbored no ill intentions toward him? Impossible. The destruction of the Zhao family and the Mutual Aid Society destined that one of them had to fall. One had to crush an enemy while they were still weak, rather than wait to face them once they grew strong. Decisive as ever, he immediately used his boundary credential to access the Secret Snake Cult platform, navigating to the forum section accessible only to internal members, and stated his intent directly: "I need to apply for a cleanup contract." He planned to hire an assassin from the Secret Snake Cult to take care of Chen Chuan directly. It was the simplest and most straightforward way. Elaborate schemes were pointless—they would only give the student time to grow. An application form promptly appeared on the light screen before him, accompanied by a voice reminding him to fill out the target and all known mission details below. Zhao Qian immediately entered the information he had just received on Chen Chuan, though after a brief hesitation, he chose not to include his earlier speculations about Chen Chuan's background. Once finished, he submitted it. Before long, the voice spoke again: "Your submission has been received. Do you have a preferred cleaner in mind? If not, the platform can provide recommendations based on your target and your available funds." Zhao Qian said in a deep voice, "I specify cleaner 'Ghostform' for this contract." This cleaner's methods were eccentric and brilliant, but most importantly, not a single contract taken by Ghostform to date had ever failed. "The platform has accepted your application. An inquiry has been dispatched to cleaner 'Ghostform.' A reply will be provided to you within forty-eight hours. Please wait patiently." *** Inside the Xuan Palace Building, after his second assessment, Chen Chuan rested in his dorm for a full day. This allowed his overtaxed mutated tissue to recover while giving him time to fully absorb the nourishment of the precious paste. By the next day, just as he was preparing to head out, an inquiry arrived from the academy: "Trainee Chen Chuan, seeing that your technique in the academy assessment has met academy requirements, would you like to take your examination ahead of schedule?" He thought it over and declined for now. Examination scores were recorded permanently and directly affected evaluation points. Where technique was concerned, he felt he still had much to learn, so he could afford to wait. Leaving the Xuan Palace Building, he headed to Instructor Zheng's place. The moment they met, Instructor Zheng looked him over and said with certainty, "Trainee Chen, you've improved since before." Chen Chuan was slightly surprised. Instructor Zheng smiled and said, "It's just a feeling. A fighter's intuition—it comes in handy sometimes." Chen Chuan turned the thought over. It was likely from his battle against Hongfu; he must have made another leap. It was just that because he had been progressing continuously these past few days, he hadn't noticed it as sharply himself. Come to think of it, Hongfu was truly the best sparring partner. No matter how much you improved or what techniques you employed, she could match you step for step. Not only did you not have to worry about injuries, but she adapted and advanced right alongside your progress. So the assessment was far more than just a test; it was also a prime opportunity to hone oneself. It was just that this opportunity was only granted three times after admission, likely because it consumed certain academy resources. After exchanging a few words, Instructor Zheng led him into the training grounds, where Zheng Tongtong was already waiting. He said, "Today we begin actual combat training. Spar a match with Tongtong first, and we'll decide on the key points for your next phase of training based on how you handle live combat." Chen Chuan indicated his understanding. Drawing the Xuejun Saber, he stepped to the center of the grounds, came to a halt, and cupped his hands toward Zheng Tongtong. "Senior, please guide me." Zheng Tongtong cupped her hands in return and said briskly, "All right. Watch yourself too, junior." Chen Chuan glanced at the blade in Zheng Tongtong's hand. This time she held a straight saber—likely the weapon she was most adept with. Since this was genuine live combat, Zheng Tongtong wouldn't remain stationary this time; she would be free to unleash her true capabilities. Stepping back a few paces, he nodded to her and took the initiative to attack. He thrust his blade forward, not particularly fast, intending it mainly as a probe. With a winding parry, Zheng Tongtong deflected the blade. Their edges met in a light touch before immediately parting. Both held their power in check—or rather, only a fraction of their jin was expressed outwardly, while the rest was kept coiled and unreleased in reserve. Watching this, Instructor Zheng's eyes lit up. He recognized Chen Chuan's application of jin: he had split his mutated tissue into two alternating systems to deploy. This was the very technique he had planned to point out and teach Chen Chuan next, yet Chen Chuan had clearly grasped it on his own before he had even taught it, giving him a pleasant surprise. Yet there was a trick to this as well: it required coordination with a breathing technique that knew how to rein in and protect the body, along with the jin manipulation needed between transitions. He could see that right now, Chen Chuan was relying entirely on his superior physical conditioning to bear the strain between opposing forces of jin. This made it very easy to suffer injury. He didn't step in to stop them. If any problem arose, he could halt the training at a moment's notice, and injuries of that degree could be rapidly mended with medicine. Instructing the boy after the consequence manifested would undoubtedly leave a far deeper understanding and memory.