Chapter 67: The Professional Ethics of a God of Slaughter

Needle-like threads of rain left cold, watery trails upon the sniper scope. That figure, seeming to merge seamlessly with the heavens and the earth, could at this moment be likened to the sharpest blade imaginable!

On the rooftop of a luxury building five hundred meters away from the villa, an assassin had his eyes glued to the scope, sweeping across every single window of the residence.

Dozens of bleeding corpses lay strewn around him. The rain washed the fresh blood from their bodies, leaving a heavy stench of carnage hanging thick in the air, reminiscent of the rotting miasma of a swamp.

His breathing was so steady that if he were placed in a morgue, no one would ever suspect he was a living man.

"Bzz, bzz, bzz..." A voice crackled through his earpiece.

He heard the mocking laughter of the other party.

"Basilisk, why has your marksmanship gotten so slow? You only managed to kill three agents in a full second."

"I recall you making grand boasts before coming here, claiming you would shatter the powerhouses of the Dragon Country in this land known as the forbidden zone for the world's assassins!"

"Is that all the strength you've got?"

"Why don't you surrender your spot as the twenty-ninth ranked assassin on the leaderboard?"

Basilisk's finger rested on the trigger. As the muzzle shifted slightly in direction, he spoke into the earpiece in a chilling, icy voice.

"If you don't shut your mouth right now, I won't mind blowing your head off before I kill that VIP."

"Why don't you try and see whose movement is faster—your evasion, or my bullet?"

On the other end, the hooded young man who had just snapped the neck of a Dragon Country agent instantly felt a chill run down his spine, quickly dropping his joking tone.

"I was just making a little joke, how did you take it so seriously?"

"I get it, a loser like thirty-fifth place isn't worthy of talking to you, twenty-ninth."

The hooded youth slipped his hand into his pocket, pulled out two butterfly knives, and continued, "So, charging into the fray is better left to me anyway!"

"I'll leave my back to you, Basilisk."

"Hey!" At that moment, a woman's voice cut through the earpiece.

It carried the tone of an older, dominant beauty—playful yet regal—and she said with utter disdain, "Thirty-three agents, and I've taken care of twenty of them. What on earth are the two of you doing?"

"If you love chatting so much, why not save it for after we've killed that old man?"

"This mission is so thrilling, I certainly don't want to lose the fun because of the two of you."

Hardly had she finished speaking when a fourth voice slowly arose. Compared to the first three, this voice sounded aged and feeble, yet laced with something lewd and venomous.

"Are you all done talking?"

"Make a move already!"

"My intuition tells me there's still someone hiding inside, and his aura... is very strong!"

With that, a humpbacked old man standing even further away, peering through a pair of binoculars at the villa, knitted his brows deeply.

The domineering woman drew a Nepalese kukri from her waist, leaped down from a tree, and rapidly circled to the back of the villa with a laugh. "You surely don't mean the young man who just went inside, do you?"

"That fellow has a very strong aura? You aren't joking with me, are you?"

"He just looks like some fragile, pampered pretty boy."

"Could it be the legendary Demon Blade?"

The hooded youth straightened up and slightly lowered the brim of his cap. "Yellow Rose, you shouldn't doubt Old Ghost Blade. He's in the top ten, after all."

"You're only fifteenth."

The woman sneered, "Gambler, you're dead last among us, so don't go pointing fingers at me. You're not worthy."

Amidst their bickering, Basilisk, the sniper, abruptly narrowed his eyes.

"So fast!"

"Bang!" A muffled gunshot echoed through the silencer.

The next second, a bullet impact mark was left squarely on the front door of the villa, which had just been shut.

Old Ghost Blade, who was in charge of commanding this operation and ranked in the top ten of the assassin leaderboard, immediately stated, "Such incredible speed... and we couldn't even capture a glimpse of the figure?"

Basilisk narrowed his eyes. "It was a woman!"

"She must be that old man's personal secretary. I never expected her to possess such combat skills. She was hiding her true depth."

Old Ghost Blade rubbed his temples. "Gambler, Yellow Rose, make your move now!"

"The target has discovered us."

"Proceed according to the plan."

Hearing this, the hooded youth and the domineering woman stopped quarreling. With a flash of movement, they instantly vanished from where they stood.

Meanwhile, inside the villa.

Zhang Qingyu turned pale as she closed the front door, breathing heavily. She swallowed hard and said, "There's a sniper."

"On the rooftop of the southeast building, target distance five hundred meters!"

"His reaction time and shooting speed are both top-tier."

With that, she couldn't help but look toward Guan Sheng, who was now their only pillar of reliance.

Because—

The enemy's strength far exceeded her imagination.

They were *those* assassins.

Every single agent of Long'an had undergone professional training, and their combat capabilities were selected from thousands.

Just dozens of seconds ago, they were still monitoring the perimeter of the villa, and then they were all dead.

To be able to eliminate everyone simultaneously in such a short span of time—such execution and combat prowess were the highest Zhang Qingyu had ever witnessed since she began protecting Elder Ji.

This was the most unsettling bad news in history.

And under these circumstances, even if she were to mobilize all armed forces in Jiangcheng to safeguard Elder Ji's life right now, it would be utterly useless.

Leaving aside whether reinforcements could arrive in time.

Even if they did get here, they would likely only end up as living targets.

This involuntarily brought back to Zhang Qingyu's mind what Guan Sheng had said right after entering the door.

Those positions... living targets...

It was all true...

"What do we do now?" Zhang Qingyu couldn't help asking.

Guan Sheng glanced around the villa, his expression calm, devoid of even a shred of panic.

He turned his head and asked Elder Ji, "Old man, let me ask you a question!"

"Do you want them alive, or dead!"

Elder Ji smiled. "If we can take them alive, naturally I want them alive."

"If we really can't, then dead will have to do."

Guan Sheng continued, "Do you want them half-dead and barely breathing, or half-alive with one foot in the grave?"

Zhang Qingyu's brow twitched violently. What kind of situation was this? When was it, and these were the questions he was asking?

Were these things important?

"Mr. Guan, shouldn't we be discussing what course of action to take?"

"What you're asking about is completely irrelevant."

Guan Sheng shook his head. "It's still very necessary to ask."

"It's professional ethics!"

"I'm used to it."

Elder Ji, surprisingly respectful of Guan Sheng, inquired, "Is there a difference between the two?"

Guan Sheng replied, "For the half-dead ones, at best they suffer permanent amnesia and cerebellar damage, turning into imbeciles; at worst, they fall into a permanent coma and become vegetables."

"As for the half-alive ones, that's very simple."

"My treatment is to shatter all four limbs, crush every bone in their body, leaving only their head able to function normally."

"Which one do you need?"

"As an assassin, I deeply respect every single requirement of my employer!"

Elder Ji pondered for a moment, then said with utmost seriousness, "Then let's go with the half-alive ones!"

"Ok!" Guan Sheng waved his hand at the two of them.

"Old man, go find a place to drink some tea!"

"See you in five minutes!"