Chapter 69: The Unflappable Target and the Unveiled Scheme

“Wake up! Stop sleeping, now!”

A muffled voice pierced her eardrums. Mo Qiu’s eyes fluttered open, the lingering throb from the blow to the back of her head still agonizingly sensitive.

What a long-lost sensation.

In her previous life, navigating the gray areas as a swindler, she had naturally amassed a legion of enemies over time.

There were occasions when she’d simply close her eyes for a moment during a meal, only to open them and find herself transported to an abandoned factory such as this.

Yet, in this current life, this marked her very first abduction.

Her hands were bound behind her back, the coarse hemp rope already chafing her wrists into a raw, swollen mess.

“You certainly can sleep. If you don’t rouse yourself soon, I’ll be forced to consider more… inventive methods.”

The face that swam into Mo Qiu’s vision belonged to Zhou Yue, twisted into a cold sneer.

Ever since her father’s unfortunate incident, Zhou Yue hadn’t known a single night of restful sleep; her complexion was ghastly pale, like that of a corpse, and the dark circles beneath her eyes were so profound, even a giant panda would concede defeat.

Reaching out, Zhou Yue clamped a hand around Mo Qiu’s chin, her eyes alight with a mixture of mockery and disdain.

“Surprised, are we? I knew using Bai Chen’s name would inevitably draw you out.”

Zhou Yue mused aloud, her words echoing in the space.

“You truly care for him that much, to fall for such a simple deception? It’s utterly laughable.”

With that, Zhou Yue threw her head back and cackled, her disheveled hair obscuring most of her face as it swayed, giving her the appearance of a deranged hag.

Mo Qiu merely observed her, not so much as a flicker of emotion disturbing her features, not a single crease marring her brow.

Witnessing Mo Qiu’s unresponsiveness, Zhou Yue released her grip, her suppressed fury reaching its zenith.

From her pocket, she produced a folding knife.

The blade, catching the faint, ambient light, emitted a chilling gleam as she brought it perilously close to Mo Qiu’s face.

“Why won’t you speak? Why won’t you beg for your life?!”

Zhou Yue shrieked, her voice raw.

“Do you believe this makes you seem cool? Are you just like all the others, looking down on me, joining the chorus of mockery, aren’t you?!”

The folding knife pressed into the young woman’s cheek, creating a shallow indentation in her skin, as thin rivulets of crimson liquid traced the length of the blade before dropping onto the floor.

Even with such a dire display, Zhou Yue still couldn’t elicit a single flicker of emotion from Mo Qiu.

This was a real blade; could Mo Qiu truly not see her own skin being marred?

Was not even the imminent threat of death enough to shake her composure, to plunge her into panic?

Zhou Yue’s hand, gripping the folding knife, trembled perceptibly.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, then a fresh, chilling sneer twisted her mouth once more.

“If you’re so fearless in the face of death, then I won’t grant you that release just yet.

Instead, I’ll sever your limbs, lock you away, and keep you ‘well-fed,’ a living testament.”

Mo Qiu’s ‘dead fish eyes’ (TL Note: A Chinese idiom describing a dull, lifeless gaze) remained utterly devoid of any emotional ripple.

“Once Bai Chen returns, I’ll simply concoct a lie and effortlessly usurp your position.

How long do you imagine it will take for him to forget you? A mere month, perhaps even a week?”

Realizing that direct threats against Mo Qiu were futile, Zhou Yue pivoted, intent on stripping away what Mo Qiu held dear.

She would capture Bai Chen’s heart, then delight in recounting their saccharine moments together daily, even resorting to sedatives to lure him into her bed with utmost speed.

Afterwards, she’d capture photographic evidence, forcing Mo Qiu to witness it daily, while she savored every nuance of Mo Qiu’s suffering.

Finally, Mo Qiu stirred.

Zhou Yue had anticipated an explosive outburst, a torrent of curses, but instead, only a soft sigh escaped her lips, as if she were observing a child’s petty tantrum.

“Zhou Yue, all those things you’ve threatened… do you truly dare to carry them out?”

“Huh?”

“You speak of crippling my limbs, but do you genuinely understand how one accomplishes such a feat?”

Mo Qiu’s gaze was unwavering, fixed upon Zhou Yue’s slack, bewildered expression.

‘If she intended to use that small knife, it likely wouldn’t even withstand the task of severing tendons.’

‘Zhou Yue’s ferocity was nothing more than a hollow bluster.’

‘Mo Qiu had witnessed truly vicious gangsters; the instant they apprehended a captive, they would systematically dismantle all means of escape.’

‘Could someone so utterly inept possibly win over Bai Chen?’

‘Mo Qiu wouldn’t stake her reputation on much, but she understood Bai Chen intimately.’

‘While he might be a ‘little virgin’ (TL Note: A Chinese slang term, ‘xiao chunan,’ referring to a young man who is inexperienced in romantic or sexual matters), he was by no means an easy target for conquest.’

‘If even Mo Qiu’s meticulously crafted plans progressed at such a glacial pace, what hope did a mere Zhou Yue possess?’

‘Love, after all, proved far more intricate and demanding than mere deception.’

Zhou Yue froze, a flicker of bewildered shock quickly morphing into furious rage.

She snapped the knife back into position, pressing its cold edge against Mo Qiu’s throat.

“You… you don’t believe I’ll kill you right here, right now?!”

“…”

Mo Qiu offered no reply, understanding that she could wait an eternity and still never witness the moment Zhou Yue would actually follow through.

Compared to a true gangster, Zhou Yue resembled nothing more than a petulant child; a genuine criminal would have executed the deed the very instant the murderous thought took root.

“I know your past, Zhou Yue.”

Mo Qiu’s voice cut through the tension once more.

“You’ve always yearned for your father, Zhou Wanchen’s, affirmation, haven’t you? Desired for him to spend more time with you, rather than constantly being consumed by work.

You longed to go out with him, to truly experience a father’s love.”

“You… how… how could you possibly know…?”

*Clang.*

The knife slipped from her trembling fingers, clattering onto the concrete floor.

Zhou Yue recoiled, her eyes wide with incredulous disbelief as she stared at Mo Qiu.

A simple investigation would unearth such details, and combining that with a logical deduction based on the present circumstances, it appeared Mo Qiu had struck true.

Zhou Yue had lost her mother at a tender age, and her father, Zhou Wanchen, engaged in perilous work, had sent her to live with relatives.

For an adolescent girl, growing up in such a fractured household would inevitably cultivate distorted perceptions.

Her fervent desire for her father’s attention was precisely why she had spiraled into such a frenzied state following Zhou Wanchen’s accident.

“You’re insane! A complete lunatic, utterly abnormal!”

Zhou Yue shrieked, her voice cracking.

‘She’s right, but aren’t you just as mad?’

Though born into a similarly dysfunctional family, Mo Qiu had, for a fleeting moment, felt a whisper of pity.

However, the audacity of this person to use Bai Chen as a threat instantly eradicated that solitary flicker of empathy.

Considering all that had transpired, in Mo Qiu’s judgment, Zhou Yue had long since been condemned to a metaphorical death sentence.

Sensing the palpable animosity radiating from Mo Qiu, Zhou Yue instinctively recoiled another half-step, her features twisting into an even more menacing snarl.

“Don’t you dare think I won’t actually—”

“Alright, time’s up.”

A sudden, crisp voice sliced through the air, abruptly cutting off Zhou Yue.

She whirled around, her movements frantic, her words tumbling out in a garbled rush:

“But I haven’t—”

“I said time’s up. Are you deaf?”

The owner of the voice stepped forth from the encroaching shadows.

Before Mo Qiu, he calmly removed his sunglasses and hat, revealing unsettling eyes and a pair of small, membranous wings sprouting from his temples.

In stark contrast to his dismissive demeanor towards Zhou Yue, Xinleit, once his gaze settled upon Mo Qiu, once again displayed a familiar, unsettling smile.

“Ah, good evening, Libelle.”

“…”

“You’re surprised to find me here, aren’t you?”

Xinleit’s smile faded, replaced by a weary sigh.

“It took considerable effort to capture and bring you to this place.

Your vigilance is exceptionally high; approaching you proved to be a formidable challenge.”

“…”

“Why the silence? I recall you rather enjoyed engaging in conversation.”

From the periphery, Zhou Yue tentatively stepped forward, her voice a humble whisper:

“Um, could you perhaps grant me a little more time? I was just about to—”

Xinleit merely cast a sidelong glance at her, his expression dripping with utter contempt.

“Begone.”

Zhou Yue, startled, nearly stumbled to the ground.

Clutching her knife, she could only retreat from the scene.

“Were it not for your father’s influence, would you even possess the right to stand in my presence?”

Xinleit scoffed, utterly unconcerned by her fleeing figure.

With the bothersome intruder dispatched, only they remained, two members of the Empire organization.

“Where to begin, I wonder?”

Xinleit mused, tossing his sunglasses and hat carelessly aside, a picture of feigned indecision.

“Ah, yes. Let’s start with the first meeting after Saluk’s demise.

That’s when my suspicions about you first took root.”

Xinleit had shared a certain rapport with Saluk and understood his nature implicitly.

Saluk, though prone to bursts of temper, was far from foolish; he would undoubtedly flee if faced with an insurmountable opponent.

The fact that he met his end in a mere market, Xinleit concluded, meant Mo Qiu was undeniably implicated.

“So, from the very first moment you spoke to me, you were testing me?”

“Precisely.”

Xinleit recounted.

He had deliberately offered her a piece of candy, only to observe that she accepted it but did not consume it.

In that precise moment, he understood she was not someone easily manipulated, but a formidable adversary.

“Truth be told, Saluk and I shared a rather amicable relationship.

It deeply grieves me that he met his end at the hands of a traitor like you.”

Xinleit continued, his voice laced with venom.

“To force a smile every time we encountered each other… it made my stomach churn, human.”

“You captured me simply to avenge Saluk?”

“Merely a convenient bonus,” Xinleit chuckled, as if sharing a private jest.

“By delivering you to Executive Elia, I’m certain to secure my qualification for promotion to a Demon Master, wouldn’t you agree?”

‘After all this grandstanding, it still boils down to his own self-interest, doesn’t it?’

Mo Qiu had harbored a fleeting hope of gaining a new perspective on demons, but it now appeared to be nothing more than a delusion.

“Speak, then.

Where exactly is Saluk?

And if he truly is deceased, where is his corpse?”

Xinleit demanded, his voice hardening.

“Simply cooperate, and I shall ensure you meet Elia alive.”

After a moment of silence, with Mo Qiu, the ‘silent gourd’ (TL Note: A Chinese idiom describing a taciturn or uncommunicative person), showing no inclination to speak, Xinleit elaborated:

“Don’t harbor any illusions of rescue.

Not only is your location unknown to anyone, but I’ve also erected a formidable alarm barrier around this entire vicinity.”

“Is that truly the full extent of your grand scheme?”

Mo Qiu’s ‘dead fish eyes’ (TL Note: A Chinese idiom describing a dull, lifeless gaze) lifted, a flicker of genuine interest in her usually impassive gaze.

“No, that can’t be right.

You undoubtedly have another plan at play.”

“Ah?”

“Why did you approach Zhou Yue?

What did you hope to gain from her… no, more precisely, what did Zhou Wanchen secretly entrust to his daughter?”

Xinleit’s brow furrowed.

“What business is that of yours?”

It seemed she had guessed correctly once more.

Mo Qiu exhaled slowly.

“Do you truly believe you’re the only one with a plan?”

Mo Qiu had her own, and it was nearly time for it to unfold.

Before Xinleit could even begin to demand an explanation, a grating, piercing sound reverberated throughout the abandoned factory, punctuated by the shattering of glass.

Someone had forcibly breached the barrier!

Xinleit whirled around, his gaze snapping towards the edge of the factory, just beyond his immediate sight—

A young man, wreathed in crackling blue electrical arcs, his expression solemn, strode through the breach in the barrier, his black-gloved hand dragging a longsword.