Now that the business inside was finished, was it his turn?
Despite his injuries, Kun Dui was dripping with cold sweat.
Seeing that Jiang Cheng didn't speak, his eyes darted around.
His body jolted, and he quickly led his underlings to kowtow, their foreheads pressing against the ground, his voice filled with awe and trepidation.
And a hint of loyalty forcibly instilled by the system.
His voice rang out powerfully: "Thank you, Young Master Jiang! From this day forward, I, Kun Dui, and all my brothers will give our all to follow your lead! The arms, ports, and Dark Web channels in Northern Myanmar are all at your disposal. If I harbor treachery, may heaven strike me down!"
These words weren't just flattery; the system's binding and long-term plans made him willingly submit to Jiang Cheng.
This place was already chaotic; people like them walked on the edge of a blade every day.
Though their daily lives were usually quite comfortable.
But just like tonight, a single firefight could reset everything to zero.
Moreover, many here relied on the strength of the Chinese.
Among the factions in the battle just now, besides the Chinese forces, there were also those from Tyrande.
And those people clearly took orders from Jiang Cheng as well.
If he could gain Jiang Cheng's support, the road ahead would certainly be smoother.
Zhou Guanshan stood on the other side of the courtyard; he had been observing Jiang Cheng from the moment the door opened.
When Jiang Cheng walked out, his hands were clean and his face was expressionless.
It wasn't the ruthlessness of "killing someone is nothing to me," nor was it a forced composure.
It was just... calm.
A very strange kind of calm.
As if nothing had happened inside.
He had spent thirty years at the border and seen too many killers.
After a green recruit kills someone, their legs go weak, their hands shake, their face turns pale, and their eyes glaze over.
After a veteran kills someone, they light a cigarette, take a drink of water, and curse a bit.
He had seen plenty of that too.
But someone like Jiang Cheng...
He couldn't quite put it into words.
It wasn't the awkwardness of a recruit, nor the numbness of a veteran.
It was a calm that had been forcefully suppressed.
Like a deep well, the surface was perfectly still, but undercurrents surged beneath.
Glancing down at Kun Dui kneeling on the ground, Jiang Cheng finally spoke after ten seconds: "Get up."
These words were like a decree of amnesty; Kun Dui shuddered and quickly kowtowed: "Thank you, Young Master Jiang! Thank you!"
His legs were a bit weak as he stood up, so a nearby underling quickly supported him.
Jiang Cheng didn't look at him again, turning his gaze toward Zhou Guanshan.
"Uncle Zhou."
"Here," Zhou Guanshan replied, his voice neither high nor low, no different from usual.
"Thank you for your hard work tonight."
Zhou Guanshan shook his head. "It was only right."
Zhou Guanshan stuffed the cigarette in his hand into his pocket and stood up straight.
"Young Master Jiang, I've tidied up the old residence. The water heater is fixed, and the room on the left side of the second floor has fresh bedding."
He paused.
"Go back there and rest tonight. I'll handle the cleanup here."
Jiang Cheng glanced at him.
Zhou Guanshan's expression was calm and his tone natural, as if he were speaking of something perfectly ordinary.
But Jiang Cheng understood.
He was giving him a way out.
A way out so he wouldn't have to stay in this place thick with the scent of blood, allowing him to quietly process everything.
"Alright," Jiang Cheng nodded. "Thank you, Uncle Zhou."
Zhou Guanshan nodded. "It's my duty."
As he spoke, he glanced at Kun Dui.
"Kun Dui, come with me. Tell me everything that happened tonight, from start to finish."
Kun Dui nodded hurriedly. "Yes, yes, Master Zhou, I'll tell you right now..."
Zhou Guanshan nodded to Jiang Cheng and led Kun Dui's group to the other side of the courtyard.
Jiang Cheng walked straight out.
Wang Sheng and Xia Li followed behind, and the three of them got into the car.
The moment the car door closed, all outside noise was cut off.
The engine roared, and with several escort vehicles following behind, they drove out of this chaotic area.
The interior of the car was very quiet.
No one spoke.
Wang Sheng drove, glancing at Jiang Cheng in the back seat through the rearview mirror.
Jiang Cheng leaned back against the seat, eyes closed, motionless.
His face was very pale.
His lips were also bloodless.
But his expression was calm.
At least, he looked calm.
Wang Sheng retracted his gaze and said nothing.
He had followed Jiang Cheng for nearly a year.
He knew that some things couldn't be resolved through words.
The car drove all the way to the Yunnan border, to the Jiang Family's old residence.
Jiang Cheng opened his eyes, glanced at the pitch-black alley outside the window, said nothing, and went straight upstairs after entering the house.
His silhouette stretched long under the dim yellow streetlights.
It was very straight.
But looking closely, one could see that his pace was a bit slower than usual.
As if every step required more effort than usual.
Wang Sheng watched Jiang Cheng's back and lit a cigarette.
"The first time I killed someone was in Africa," he suddenly spoke, his voice very soft, as if talking to himself.
Xia Li stood nearby and didn't respond.
He leaned against the doorframe and took a deep drag, the smoke dispersing in the night wind as he squinted at the dark silhouettes of the mountains in the distance.
"At that time, I was in the French Foreign Legion, on a sweep-and-clear mission. The target was an armed leader hiding in a village in the DRC."
"When I slipped in, he was sleeping. I slit his throat with a knife."
"After the kill, I crouched next to the body for a full ten minutes."
"Not because I was afraid."
"But because I was waiting for myself to vomit."
"But in the end, I didn't."
He flicked the ash away and gave a bitter smile. "For the next three days, I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw blood gushing from his throat."
"Gurgling, like a faucet that wouldn't shut tight."
After finishing, he turned to Xia Li and asked, "What about you?"
Xia Li was silent for a while before speaking: "The first time I killed someone, I was fifteen."
"In the Golden Triangle, at a drug dealer's stronghold. My boss told me to kill a traitor, saying he wanted to see my guts."
"The man was tied to a chair, gagged, his eyes wide. I stabbed him with a knife."
"After the stabbing, I vomited. After vomiting for a long time, I cried."
She lowered her head and looked at her hands.
Those hands that were once covered in blood were now clean.
"For a month after that, I had nightmares every night. I dreamed he was staring at me, asking why I killed him. I couldn't say why. I just kept repeating, 'I have to kill you... or I won't survive.'"
Wang Sheng took another breath. "In our line of work, whose hands aren't stained with blood? The only difference is whether you have the ability to keep moving forward after the first time."
Hearing this, Xia Li looked up toward the stairs. "He can get through it... He's stronger than us."
After a pause, Xia Li continued, "Not because he isn't afraid, but because he can suppress that fear."
Wang Sheng stubbed out his cigarette and nodded, clearly agreeing with Xia Li. "Aren't you going up to check on him?"
New book: [God-tier Tycoon: Who Said the School Beauty is Cold? She's Clearly Super Proactive!] has been released. Desperately need everyone's bookmarks and follows!
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