Right on Target (TARGET)
The host reacted a beat too late, his eyes wide with a comical expression. After a long pause, he let out a series of incoherent exclamations—"Wow, wow, wow!"—completely unlike his usual sharp-witted demeanor. The absurdity of it was almost unsettling as he muttered, "Incredible! Another dark horse!"
The audience, too, was slow to react. By the time the deafening cheers erupted, Xie Zhenshu had already disconnected from the arena. The nebulizer still clung to his neck, yet his face showed no trace of joy in victory.
The barrage of comments from online paying viewers never made it to the screen. Su Heting guessed the Colosseum had intended to showcase Fei Yi's metallic wings as the climax of the match, only for Xie Zhenshu to catch them off guard—his blade was too fast, decapitating Fei Yi in an instant.
The audience reveled in the delayed thrill of the kill.
Su Heting glanced sideways at the surrounding seats, taking in the pale faces lost in the stimulation of neural electrodes. They were morbidly obsessed with the moment of decapitation, clamoring for replays of Fei Yi's head rolling across the ground.
"Ah!" Hermit's sudden shriek nearly startled Su Heting out of his seat. The man leaped up with tears and snot streaming down his face as he yelled, "Hermit! Hermit is the fucking best—!"
Su Heting: "..."
Fei Yi's real-world body was still connected to the interface. His stick-thin arms rested on the chair and his expression frozen, making him appear even more lifeless. His emaciated frame made his eyes unnaturally prominent, now staring blankly at some point as if not yet fully dead.
The referee rushed to Fei Yi's side, checking his life monitor. Moments later, the manager arrived, tense before whispering urgently with the referee. Their exchange lasted only minutes before the referee stepped away and announced Fei Yi's death to the host.
Su Heting scanned the crowd again but still saw no sign of Wei Zhixin.
Hermit sniffled between sobs. "I won't call him Brother Xie anymore—I'm calling him Daddy now!"
The word "Daddy" sent an inexplicable jolt through Su Heting. Without thinking, he retorted, "What? You never called me Daddy when I won all those matches, but you call him that after one win?"
Hermit shot back, "Do you have an Asura? All you can do is fire a cannon!"
Su Heting scoffed. "Oh, so that's all it takes to impress you."
He shifted his posture, propping his chin on his hand, outwardly composed but inwardly baffled by his own knee-jerk reaction.
What does it matter to me? Why do I care what he calls him? Even if he called him Grandpa, so what? His gaze wandered as he mused, eventually landing back on Xie Zhenshu.
After disconnecting, Xie Zhenshu made to leave, but the manager hurried over, saying something to him. From the camera angle, Su Heting couldn't make out the manager's lips, only the obsequious smile.
Hermit tensed. "Why isn't he leaving? Did Wei Zhixin find out? Is he coming after me?"
The manager bent slightly, gesturing toward the VIP boxes and guided Xie Zhenshu in that direction.
Su Heting stood immediately. Self-conscious about his conspicuous ears, he reached for a hood before remembering he wasn't wearing a sweatshirt today. Giving up, he said to Hermit, "Let's go take a look."
The VIP boxes were reserved for high-rollers and star fighters, available for pre- or post-match use. To get there, one took the corridor on the right side of the audience stands, passed a restroom, and went up a flight of stairs.
This area not only had attendants dedicated to serving the private rooms but also the bodyguards of the bosses.
Su Heting and Hermit didn’t rush upstairs recklessly and instead stopped at the restroom entrance. Hermit came prepared, pulling out two packs of New World fake cigarettes from his wide sleeves and sharing one with Su Heting. The two of them looked like they were just there for a smoke and some fresh air.
Su Heting had never been here before, but Hermit had. Standing by the wall, he remained highly alert as he lowered his voice to a whisper: “Today’s match was an upset, so not many bosses showed up. There aren’t many bodyguards—I’d guess only Wei… is upstairs. What do you think he called Brother Xie up there for?”
Su Heting didn’t smoke, just pinched the cigarette between his fingers. After a moment’s thought, he said, “To silence him.”
Hermit wasn’t surprised. He merely rolled his eyes upward, peering toward the staircase corner. “Makes sense, fits the boss’s style. So what do we do? Charge up there? He’s armed.”
Su Heting flattened the cigarette butt between his fingers and admitted honestly, “No idea.”
The sight of the ID “Wei Zhixin” irritated him. Truth be told, he didn’t believe the Chief could handle Wei Zhixin. People like him valued face above all else and wouldn’t back down for something like “liberating all of humanity.”
Right now, Su Heting only regrets not bringing a gun.
He had one—retrieved from an elevator during an attack at the trading market last time—but it was out of bullets and stashed away at the Jade Pool.
Hermit said, “Brother Xie took the match for me. I can’t let him suffer this for nothing. If I go up now and beg Wei Zhixin for mercy, is there still time? If he wants money, I’ll scrape it together somehow. If he wants sincerity, I’ll kowtow to him.”
Su Heting replied, “What if he wants tens of millions? How would you scrape that together?”
Hermit’s face turned ashen. “That much?” he mumbled, stunned.
Su Heting continued, “What if he wants your legs? How would you give those?”
“That’s not fair!” Hermit blurted before falling silent.
Big bosses were never fair in the first place.
As the two stood in silence, Su Heting’s cat ears suddenly twitched—someone was on a call inside the restroom.
“We’ve got to kill one tonight. Can’t keep swallowing this shit every time.” Viper stood up and walked out before stopping in front of the mirror. As the automated facilities washed his hands, he spoke into the communicator, “Who the hell does Xingtian think they control? That woman’s words don’t mean shit. Even if my boss really kills that cat, what’s she gonna do about it?”
Someone else entered behind him, but Viper only glanced sideways—he didn’t recognize them, so he paid no mind.
He had just been discharged from the hospital today and was in a good mood. The lackey on the other end of the communicator knew how to flatter, and his words had Viper feeling smug. As he reached for the hand dryer, he was mid-boast: “My boss—fuck!”
Hermit yanked off his outer robe and threw it over Viper from behind. Knowing Viper’s reflexes were sharp, he immediately wrapped his arms around Viper’s torso and warned, “Don’t make a soun—”
Viper’s body didn’t move, but his head snapped backward, smashing into Hermit’s nose and drawing blood.
“Agh!” Hermit let go to clutch his nose.
He was no fighter, so he turned to Su Heting to report, “He’s armed!”
Viper twisted his arm back in a counter-grip and seized Hermit’s wrist, but before he could flip him, a kick landed square on his back.
Goddammit!
Viper crashed into the mirror with the robe still draped over his head.
Su Heting grabbed him by the neck from behind and slammed his face into the mirror repeatedly. The glass shattered with a loud crack, but Su Heting didn’t stop until Viper’s face was smeared with blood.
Less than two hours after being discharged from the hospital, Viper's face and head were covered in blood from being pressed against shards of a broken mirror. Gasping for breath, he hadn’t even managed to speak before Su Heting slammed him forcefully against the mirror, his entire face pressed into the shattered glass. He let out a pained scream: "Goddamn it!"
Su Heting pinned him down. "Eyes fixed already?"
The sound of Su Heting’s voice alone made Viper’s eyes throb with pain. Filled with hatred, he gnashed his teeth at Su Heting: "Thanks to you, you bastard! How dare you fucking tail me?!"
Su Heting’s other hand found the earpiece in Viper’s ear and yanked it out. Viper howled in agony, but before he could scream more than a few times, Hermit stuffed a rag into his mouth.
Su Heting crushed the earpiece underfoot and asked, "Is that steel-blade guy from last time upstairs too?"
Viper’s breathing was heavy through his nose. He had never suffered like this before and refused to nod in response, glaring at Su Heting instead.
Su Heting lifted Viper’s head higher, examining his new eyes, then flashed him a grin.
Viper was stunned by that smile.
The memory of the cat’s fingers sent a chill down his spine. Suddenly, he began shaking his head violently—not to answer Su Heting, but in frantic evasion. His face pressed harder against the mirror, heedless of the glass shards.
＊＊＊
Wei Zhixin was watching a recording, one of his favorite pastimes. He kept pausing the footage like a director before turning to Xie Zhenshu to say, "I know that cat’s with you. How much could a Hybrid possibly have? He bet his entire fortune on you today—shows just how much he trusts you."
Xie Zhenshu held the cigarette Wei Zhixin had given him between his index and middle fingers—a real cigarette, the kind that sold for a high price on the Black Market. At the mention of "the cat", his brow furrowed slightly, but he remained silent.
Wei Zhixin lounged on the sofa with the steel-blade man standing behind him. His gaze fixed on Xie Zhenshu and his tone oddly amiable: "I only want the cat’s tail and eyes, not his life."
Xie Zhenshu lifted his eyes. "Tail and eyes?"
"Both are implants—he can always get new ones." Wei Zhixin toyed with the remote. "I’m being this polite out of respect for you, Mr. Xie. The last time, at King Shen’s gambling den, fate brought us together. I hadn’t planned on speaking with you until I saw today’s match and recognized you as Asura. I trust you—you’re not like those Hybrids running wild in the streets… You’re not even a Hybrid. With that kind of money, you could be one of us. I welcome you and would gladly make introductions, connecting you with new friends like myself. Now, I just have this one small request—can you help me?"
He spoke lightly, as though severing a tail and gouging out eyes were painless matters.
Wei Zhixin had witnessed Xie Zhenshu’s financial power at King Shen’s gambling den. Though he hadn’t yet uncovered the source of Xie Zhenshu’s wealth, he suspected he might be a key lieutenant under some influential figure—how else would a Hybrid have so much money? Lately, Chief had been pressuring him, and he didn’t want to make more enemies. That’s why he had invited Xie Zhenshu here, hoping to extend an olive branch.
But Xie Zhenshu was Xie Zhenshu, and Su Heting was Su Heting.
Wei Zhixin had no intention of letting Su Heting off the hook—he wanted him to pay. A stray cat living in a rundown apartment and a speck of dirt beneath his notice, had made him lose two matches. He wanted Xie Zhenshu to use the cat as a bargaining chip.
A row of people stood behind Xie Zenshu—not his men, but Wei Zhixin's bodyguards. The muzzles of their guns pressed against the back of Xie Zenshu's head, waiting for him to speak. He slightly raised his fingers, took a whiff of the cigarette, and disliked its scent.
With his eyes half-lidded, he answered truthfully, "I—"
He had only uttered the word "I" when the door suddenly exploded.
The bodyguards in the room immediately swung their guns toward the entrance.
Smoke billowed at the doorway, and before the bodyguards could even shout a warning, Viper was kicked inside.
He rolled several times on the floor with his mouth gagged, unable to speak—only groaning.
Viper: Flashbang—
The flashbang detonated instantly, the shockwave erupting as blinding white light flooded the room. The bodyguards immediately covered their heads and shielded their eyes.
Hermit yelled, "Brother Xie, run!!!"
Wei Zhixin snarled, "Who dares—"
Before he could finish, the back of his head was seized and slammed into the coffee table. Xie Zenshu gripped his throat, expressionless. His grip is terrifyingly strong—genuinely intent on killing him.
Hermit shuddered, his eyes nearly blinded by the flash, tears streaming as he shouted, "Good heavens, you two are really something!"
At critical moments, they both go straight for the throat!
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