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墨書 Inktalez
Date: October 7
"Are you worried about making too much noise and attracting your boss's attention? Sigh, that Mr. First Black President really knows how to win people's hearts, and I didn't expect that fellow to have such power already." Yang Xiaoyou, having regained some of her composure, understood why Luo Guohui had suddenly let go.
It was the most critical time in the American election. Although due to the capital amassed from Kapa City, Luo Guohui's boss was currently the most favored candidate, various factions behind him were starting to compromise.
However, in elections, nothing is certain until the results are out. It was clear that Luo Guohui would hesitate at such a time.
Unlike Fia and her group, who were within his sphere of influence, the aura emitted from Yang Xiaoyou as her inner memory persona slowly awakened misled others significantly. Luo Guohui had not yet reached his peak; based on the judgments of others, they would likely conclude that their power surpassed his.
Perhaps he would take an interest in her since he rarely encountered a worthy opponent. However, it was evident that Luo Guohui was an extremely disciplined individual. Once he touched his bottom line, he would immediately impose self-restraint.
In comparison to his goals, everything else was secondary. In this regard, he shared some commonalities with Liu Lianyue in their obsessions.
Initially focused entirely on Luo Guohui, Yang Xiaoyou, now weakened after the events, failed to notice a White Man standing not far down the street, whose legs trembled intermittently and dropped his cigarette several times.
"Was that just an illusion? It must be an illusion! Impossible! How could there be such power in this world? A person's strength can reach such a level even across an entire street—God!" After finally lighting his cigarette, the middle-aged man with a scruffy beard and messy white hair, carrying a tennis bag, took a deep drag with trembling hands.
Yet the pressure reflected in his flesh proved that what he had just seen was not an illusion.
Indeed, there were two individuals whose abilities exceeded his imagination clashing across the street. Such a crazy act was simply unheard of.
His combat experience in Afghanistan and Iraq was already quite rich; he had witnessed peak soldiers and could consider himself one of them. But this terrifying presence was something else entirely.
Inside a luxurious restaurant.
"You're so slow! Weren't you nearby? I specifically chose a closer place." Seeing Yang Xiaoyou arrive late, Fia puffed out her cheeks and let out a growl like a tiger from her throat.
Meanwhile, her subordinates were on high alert, vigilantly observing their surroundings. It seemed that Luo Guohui's appearance had put immense pressure on them.
"You all have been so tense; if there’s no one to take over, I’m afraid you won’t last three days." Ignoring Fia's complaints, Yang Xiaoyou unceremoniously pulled out a chair and sat down.
When he entered, the waiter had also asked him to remove his helmet, but upon seeing his appearance, they agreed to let him in with it on, fearing it might scare the other diners.
"I've already called my brother to send a few people over. We should be able to hold on for now. Once we have enough people after three days, we won't have to worry anymore," Fia said with a grimace. She knew that entering this line of work came with dangers.
Under normal circumstances, the protective measures around her were quite thorough. However, when faced with someone who could easily break through her defenses, she felt utterly powerless.
"You shouldn't worry too much about that guy. For now, he probably won't focus on you," Yang Xiaoyou reassured her after noticing her expression.
His main objective for coming here was still the 'Revenant' who had been reborn in the Late Eastern Jin Dynasty. Luo Guohui was unlikely to target Fia; it was merely a coercive tactic used by Hank that Fia had misunderstood.
If Luo Guohui truly intended to kill her, he wouldn't have gotten himself involved in this mess.
"How do you know? Oh, Uncle John, you're here! That was quick!" Fia initially muttered before seemingly realizing something and stood up to wave at the door.
Hearing her words and noticing the stark contrast in her attitude, Yang Xiaoyou felt a bit annoyed. He had arrived earlier and took longer; she seemed to arrive faster than him despite being later. This double standard was getting a bit excessive.
Just as Yang Xiaoyou turned to see who was approaching, a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard and messy white hair walked over. A cigarette butt fell from his mouth to the ground as he wore an expression as if he had seen a ghost.
That expression genuinely saddened Yang Xiaoyou. He was wearing a helmet and looked like this; if he took it off and revealed his painted zombie face, it would be even more frightening.
The tennis bag slung over the man's shoulder and some pockets were clearly modified, likely containing firearms or similar items. In gun-restricted England, this wasn’t unusual; the concealment suggested he possessed weapons beyond the norm.
Meanwhile, Fia was waving at him but found it strange that Uncle John usually frowned when she called him "Uncle." He was still relatively young and capable enough to rival several of her elite subordinates; seeing him like this was truly out of character.
"Sorry I'm late," John said after regaining his composure and shaking his head as if trying to stabilize his emotions.
As he approached and seemed to deliberately avoid Yang Xiaoyou, Yang Xiaoyou felt puzzled. Although he didn’t recall having met this fellow often, he still had some impression of him.
He was one of the most renowned elite mercenaries in the Mercenary World, exceptionally skilled with firearms, particularly sniper rifles. He was far stronger than the current version of himself and was a retired British veteran who had participated in the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq.
"Hey, you seem a bit afraid of me. Have we met somewhere?" Yang Xiaoyou asked, gazing intently into the other person's eyes with great interest.
To be honest, although the other person was proficient with firearms, his current close combat abilities definitely surpassed theirs. Shooting was his specialty as well.
However, he was certain that he had not reached a level that would instill fear in the other person. Moreover, if he were to compete in close combat with a mercenary of the same caliber who specialized in melee fighting, he might not stand a chance.
It was quite strange that he felt a hint of fear from someone like this fellow.
"Haha! Come on, don’t flatter yourself too much. I admit your performance back then might have shown some skill, but do you really think John would be afraid of you? You might just get your head blown off on the street," said a woman with a slightly muscular build and an attractive appearance, who had lost one eye but was now grinning widely.
Weimar specialized in close combat and was proficient with daggers. She was one of the few who had spent time training in close-quarters combat techniques. Her abilities complemented John's perfectly, and they had partnered many times before. Hearing someone speak so boldly about her old partner made her scoff dismissively.
Upon hearing her unfiltered words, the middle-aged man named John changed his expression. He quickly grabbed a piece of cake and shoved it into her mouth while giving her a knowing look and smiling wryly.
"I am indeed a bit afraid of you. However, since you are sitting here with my sister now, I assume you are friends rather than foes. The presence you faced not long ago was probably that white pursuer my sister mentioned. You two might have been too engrossed at the time to notice, but I sensed them beside us."
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