"You're too kind, I just have a bit of a collecting habit." Jason Sullivan said modestly, "If the price is too high, I can't afford it myself, so I have to overcharge others."

The two spoke warmly and politely, like old friends who hadn't seen each other in years, as if the brutal scene of gunfire and carnage just now had never happened. Shark pondered for a moment, then smiled slightly, shrugged in an open-minded, privacy-respecting way, and said, "Is that so? In that case, no problem. The deposit you asked for will be delivered to you very soon."

He then handed the portrait to his bodyguard with a backward motion and made a gesture of invitation: "The Shan State military police should be coming to surround this place soon—get in the car, Captain Sullivan, welcome to the partnership."

In the distance, the shadows of trees on the mountain road whipped by, and the sound of military trucks speeding through the wind could be faintly heard.

Jason Sullivan was quite straightforward, brought nothing with him, and simply walked off, bending down to get into the car under the "escort" of the bodyguards. Immediately, more than a dozen bulletproof jeeps turned around and drove out of the market, with a few muffled thuds as they crushed a long bloody path through the corpses on the ground.

"So what exactly happened a year ago?" The scenery outside the window flashed by rapidly. Sandwiched between two armed bodyguards in the back seat, Jason Sullivan asked in a casual tone as the car bumped along, "The Marianas Trench operation has been offline for a whole year. I bet even Interpol thinks you're dead by now. There's even a rumor that an undercover agent single-handedly took out your entire armed force—so, is the rumor true or not?"

Shark turned his head from the front passenger seat and stared at him, his expression unreadable.

Inside the car, apart from the roar of the engine, it was unusually quiet. A long time passed, and just as Jason Sullivan thought he wasn't going to answer, Shark suddenly spoke up without warning, asking in return:

"Do you know 'Artist'?"

"Who?"

Shark slowly began to smile, a cold blue glint flickering deep in his pupils.

"Ten years ago, my most capable security chief, Arthur, was arrested in Southeast Asia, and no matter what I did, I couldn't find out who was behind it. In the end, I thought the police just got lucky. Until a year ago, he finally appeared before me in person, like a vengeful ghost from hell come to claim my life. Only then did I realize that after all these years—selling fentanyl in North America, setting up meth labs in Mexico, building darknet servers in the Netherlands, making even Interpol issue three consecutive red notices and still be helpless—I had never once escaped his crosshairs."

"Artist," Shark paused, then said softly, "It wasn't luck that brought him to me, but fate."

Jason Sullivan nodded thoughtfully and asked, "But you're still alive, so I guess he died?"

Vast poppy fields stretched out ahead, glistening under the sunlight. Shark turned back to look forward, his gray-blue eyes with a smile reflected in the rearview mirror, as if remembering an old friend from afar, but the bloodthirsty undertone was chilling.

"No, fate was very cruel to him—I survived, and he didn't manage to die."

Jason Sullivan's eyelid twitched ominously, but Shark's tone was unusually gentle:

"Look, this land before your eyes is a place where 'Artist' once set foot—"

In the distance, camouflaged trucks surrounded the market, while the convoy rumbled northward. Below the mountain peak, the land stretched vast and wide, the border marker hidden among the towering mountains, reflecting a faint golden light.

Chapter 2

Jinhai City.

Torrential rain lashed the river embankment, the water rushing forward, surging into the deepening dusk.

"I told you not to work so hard. Even if you work until midnight, they won't pay you a cent more. Those people are ruthless!" The boy held a tilted umbrella, half his body soaked, rainwater running down his skinny black legs into his worn-out sneakers, every step splashing through the mud. "I'll walk you to your building and then I'm leaving, or your dad will see me again!"

Under the umbrella, the girl wore a deep blue work uniform that was obviously too big, hugging her arms tightly, her voice trembling slightly: "The foreman gave me forty extra yuan..."

The boy let out a heavy "tsk."

He wanted to say something but swallowed it back, then after a while reminded her again, "Then make sure you hide the money well, don't let your dad find out, or he'll gamble it away again."

"I... I know." The girl reflexively tightened her grip on her backpack strap. "Once I save enough, I'll take my mom and leave here, go back to our hometown. Even farming would be better than this. I heard that..."

Crash!

A faint sound came, and the boy suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned around.

"Did you hear something?"

The girl staggered to a stop, shaking her head in confusion, a hint of nervousness picked up from the boy: "What?"

It was already late. The last bus from the industrial park to the outskirts had already left. The wilderness was dark, the streetlights unlit, and the pouring rain blurred their vision; in the distance, thigh-high wild grass swayed back and forth under the downpour, like a group of little people wobbling toward them.

Rustle, rustle.

"..." The boy wondered if he was hearing things, but didn't dare to step back. After a while, he tentatively called out, "Hey, is anyone there?!"

No answer came through the heavy rain.

"The wind... it must be the wind..." The girl said uneasily, tightening her backpack strap again. "Come on, let's go..."