Chapter Twenty: The Assassination of the Saint and That Nobleman
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The seismic upheaval at the pinnacle of power in District Two quickly rippled through the underworld. Even though Bai Yujing launched an annual large-scale purge of the underground world, uprooting those dark forces that had already gained momentum, the elimination of old powers only paved the way for new ones to emerge. There were always those tempted by the lure of exorbitant profits, always some who naïvely believed themselves the “exception” to the rules.
Momoko Ito was one such person.
“Boss! Something big has happened!”
“Why panic? The sky’s not falling.”
Momoko Ito lounged lazily on a soft sofa, her voice tinged with casual indifference. Warm-toned light poured down from the ceiling, outlining the alluring curves of her figure that could set blood racing. Yet her subordinate’s gaze was fixed rigidly on the carpet’s pattern, not daring to look up.
Everyone in the Ito gang knew this beautiful-faced boss was ruthless—a true femme fatale.
“The owner of Roman Pharmaceuticals, Connie, who’s deeply connected with us, has been arrested by the Discipline Bureau. Our fentanyl supply line is likely cut off. Worse, if that guy can’t withstand the interrogation and rats us out—”
“Oh.”
Momoko Ito’s only response was a faint murmur, as if hearing the fate of a stray dog on the street. Her subordinate wanted to stress the seriousness of the situation again.
Riiiiing!
The sharp ring of a phone abruptly interrupted. Momoko glanced at the number flashing on the screen, a subtle, inscrutable smile curling at her lips. She casually waved her hand, signaling the subordinate to leave.
Once alone in the living room, she pressed the answer button with deliberate slowness, her voice carrying a knowing smile: “Heh, I was expecting your call.”
“Ito, come to my place immediately. There’s something that could change everything—we need to discuss face to face.”
“Alright.”
Momoko Ito responded crisply, then hung up. Like a sleek leopard, she sprang lightly from the sofa, landing steadily at the door. Opening it, she ordered outward, “Prepare the car. Head to the usual place.”
...
About half an hour later, Momoko Ito appeared at Lars’s residence. The room remained pitch black, with only a flickering crimson flame in the center of the living room casting uncertain light. Lars’s tall figure sat in an armchair, silently exhaling smoke; the faint glow of his cigar illuminated his sharply defined profile, giving him a somber air.
Momoko Ito walked calmly to sit opposite him, leaning forward slightly. “Speak. What do you intend to do?”
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“I’ve decided to assassinate the Saint.”
Lars had made up his mind. Since the Saint had personally cut off his political path, the only option left was the most reckless, all-or-nothing shortcut: assassination.
So long as the Saint fell, the seemingly impregnable Han Empire would plunge into unprecedented chaos. In the ensuing era of rival powers, it would be the perfect opportunity for someone like Lars—with strength and ambition—to soar.
He chose Momoko Ito as his accomplice not merely due to their mutual interests but because he deeply understood that beneath her radiant smile lay no reverence for the Saint. Simply put, she was a warlike monster.
“Ha ha ha!” Momoko’s laughter echoed wildly through the dark, cavernous room, chilling and penetrating. “Lars, do you know? Since the day I figured out your true capabilities, I’ve been waiting for you to say those words! I knew a man like you, whose desires could never be quenched, would eventually come to this!”
Her face blossomed into a dazzling, almost innocent smile. “Alright then~ Let’s try together to drag that lofty Saint down from the clouds.”
“You’re wrong. I really only want to be the District Councilor of District Two.”
Lars’s deep voice cut through, quickly suppressing his fleeting sentimentality as his expression grew grave. “Our plan is simple. You and I leave immediately for the imperial capital. Then, on February 23, we’ll infiltrate the student group reporting to Kunlun Academy and sneak into the Holy Palace.
The Saint, as the principal of Kunlun Academy, will surely attend the opening ceremony. That is our sole and best opportunity!”
“No problem.”
Momoko answered decisively, her eyes flashing with the thrill of a predator locking onto its prey.
Their precise plan owed much to the Saint’s own policy of “government transparency.” Official events like the Kunlun Academy opening ceremony had specific dates and locations available at the click of a mouse on the empire’s website.
The usual route into Shanglin Garden was via the Vermilion Bird Gate.
Of course, even with this information, sneaking past the heavily guarded palace gates to carry out an assassination was almost a fool’s errand.
That was why Momoko had deliberately approached Lars in the first place.
His heterochromatic superpower, which could render people or objects completely “invisible,” was the key to bypassing the palace guards.
Once inside the Holy Palace, they could face the legendary Saint in battle.
Momoko had been anticipating this day for a very long time.
...
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The next day, news of an unprecedented purge of District Two’s upper echelon unsurprisingly made front-page headlines worldwide.
The reason was simple: among the Han Empire’s 232 administrative districts, District Two’s economic strength even surpassed that of District One, which housed the imperial capital.
Across Blue Star, the most influential media giants were either based in District Two or had intricate ties with its financial magnates.
Therefore, unlike the obscure and economically backward remote districts, any disturbance in District Two could ignite a storm of global public opinion.
Especially a political earthquake that uprooted the entire upper echelon.
Online opinion was overwhelmingly supportive.
The few dissenting voices were confined to niche forums filled with eccentric users, unable to stir any real waves.
Hayden paid no mind to such worldly clamor.
His focus was fully on the mission given by the “Master.”
In District Twenty-One, he was to develop and expand the number of immortal breeds.
Since the “Master” had given no specific method, the freedom of choice was entirely his!
After careful thought, Hayden concluded that starting with the upper class controlling society’s resources was most efficient.
For those already perched atop the pyramid of wealth and power, the allure of immortality was irresistible.
As for the price to become an immortal breed, the elites simply did not care.
After all, only the Saint truly valued the lives of ordinary people.
Even Hayden could not deny that.
But he was no ordinary man.
As a superpowered individual, he inherently craved privileges above all others and deeply resented the Saint’s “loving governance” philosophy.
To him, survival of the fittest was the eternal, unchanging law of nature.
Everything the Saint pursued violated these natural laws and would sooner or later be crushed by the true god descending upon this world.
...
On the night of March 22, darkness as black as ink enveloped the sky.
Hayden, cloaked by the thick night, silently appeared outside the grand walls of the Bona estate.
Tonight was the time he and Bona had agreed upon.
He believed the brightly lit banquet hall inside the estate was already filled with high society elites drawn by the temptation of “eternal life.”
He inhaled the cool, grassy night air deeply, his form as light as a night owl.
Scaling the towering walls, he swiftly and silently moved toward the direction of the banquet hall.