“Swish!”
“Crack!”
Lin Wan’s right hand shot out, seizing the man’s wrist. His dagger hovered seven or eight centimetres from her chest, unable to move further. Lu Zheng’s left hand darted up, his index and middle fingers pinching the other dagger, leaving a fingerprint on the blade and stopping it dead in front of him.
“What!” The middle-aged man’s eyes widened, disbelief etched on his face. He yanked back, but the daggers felt locked in mid-air. The next moment, his left wrist snapped with a “crack.”
“Aaah!” He screamed, releasing the dagger aimed at Lu Zheng. His right hand flipped, a small blade appearing between his fingers, slashing towards Lin Wan’s neck.
“Thwack!” Lin Wan delivered a swift kick to his groin, calmly retracting her leg. The man’s eyes bulged, pupils dilating, his half-raised hand losing strength. His knees buckled, and he collapsed, hands instinctively clutching below.
“Oh—” A chop to the back of his neck from Lin Wan followed, and with a groan, he passed out.
Lu Zheng blinked. “Assassin?”
Lin Wan’s face darkened as she nodded. “Probably.”
“Didn’t you already hand the evidence to the Tokyo police?” Lu Zheng asked. “Why are there still people trying to kill you?”
“I don’t know,” Lin Wan said, shaking her head.
Her phone rang. It was Hong Liang. “Brother Hong?”
“Lin Wan! Be careful, there might be assassins coming for you!”
“What!?”
“An assassin just tried to kill me. I took him out, but I don’t know if they’ve tracked you. Stay alert!”
Lin Wan hesitated, glancing at Lu Zheng, who shook his head. She nodded. “Got it, Brother Hong. I’ll head over!”
“No! Don’t come! You’re out and about, so if they don’t know your location, you’re safer. I’ll handle things here,” Hong Liang said. “But I suggest you and Lu Zheng stop sightseeing and come back to China with me.”
“Understood, thanks, Brother Hong.” Lin Wan hung up, her expression grave as she looked at Lu Zheng.
“Looks like it’s tied to this case. You delivered the evidence, yet they’re still coming for you…” Lu Zheng narrowed his eyes. “If I’m right, they’re pissed you succeeded and want to kill you for revenge.”
Lin Wan stayed silent, unable to think of another reason.
Lu Zheng said coolly, “Your official business is done. Their actions now are personal, right?”
Lin Wan opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say. What could she say? That it was still about duty, so they should turn the assassin over to the police? Pointless. If that worked, the assassins caught earlier wouldn’t have led to this. With killers targeting both Hong Liang and her, someone was likely dealing with Haneda Mahiro too, either destroying evidence or eliminating him. And this man had even tried to kill Lu Zheng!
Lin Wan’s face darkened with fury.
“What do we do with him?” she asked, her question implying agreement with Lu Zheng.
She added, “And we still don’t know who’s behind Haneda Mahiro.”
“Easy.” Lu Zheng hoisted the unconscious assassin and headed for a nearby alley. “Wait here.”
Lin Wan nodded and stayed put. Five minutes later, Lu Zheng returned. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Back to the hotel,” Lu Zheng said. “Stay there. I’m going to meet Haneda Mahiro. Know where he’s held?”
“He was formally arrested tonight, so probably in the Tokyo police’s temporary holding cell.”
“Good!” Lu Zheng and Lin Wan returned to the hotel. As he prepared to leave, Lin Wan grabbed his arm, her eyes serious. “If you’re making a move, I’m coming with you.”
Knowing Lu Zheng’s methods were less likely to draw attention, she didn’t insist on going along for the visit, but if he acted, she’d stand with him.
Lu Zheng grinned. “Alright!”
After ensuring Lin Wan was safe at the hotel, Lu Zheng left alone, vanishing around a corner.
At the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department’s underground holding cells, Haneda Mahiro lay on his bed, dead, eyes wide open.
“Too bad, but you won’t be alone. Those two Interpol agents will join you soon,” a killer said coldly, preparing to leave. Suddenly, a sharp pain hit his mind, and he collapsed, lifeless.
“Just in time,” Lu Zheng muttered. In the modern world, a person’s soul dissipates quickly after death, but Lu Zheng arrived fast enough to extract Haneda’s. Using the *Mirror Gaze Spell* from the *Golden Palace Mysterious Art*, he probed Haneda’s secrets.
“Holy…” Lu Zheng shook his head, chuckling. “Crime movies have some merit. At least the main logic holds up.” He then extracted the killer’s soul, which, like Haneda’s, was weak, collapsing after a few quick glimpses. Still, the picture was clear.
The mastermind was the Matsushima family, a prominent political and economic dynasty in Japan, owning a sprawling estate outside Tokyo. Matsushima Kawa, the current head, held immense influence despite no official title. Haneda Mahiro was his pawn, a disposable glove. Now, the glove was dirty and discarded. Those who’d dirtied it—like Lin Wan’s team—were to be erased as a warning. Lu Zheng pieced the last part together, as Haneda hadn’t believed Matsushima would kill him. The assassin sent for Haneda and the one who attacked them were from the same organisation, though the killer here had no direct contact with someone as high up as Matsushima Kawa.
Knowing the mastermind, Lu Zheng decided to pay a visit.
At the Matsushima estate, in the largest bedroom, an elderly man slept peacefully, arm around a young model. Who’d guess this kindly-looking man was a ruthless, cunning, cold-blooded kingpin? *My idioms aren’t bad,* Lu Zheng thought, smirking. He stood there, pondering.
Now what?
