Chapter 9: Second Uncle, Your Delivery Timing Is Really Off

Flames spat, bullets covering the corner like rain.

But it was already empty there.

Gu Chen was like a ghost—or rather, like a cat toying with mice.

Barefoot, stepping on glass-shard-covered ground without a sound.

This body’s muscle structure was too perfect—explosive power a downright bug.

He borrowed force from the ceiling pipes—his whole body arcing a afterimage in the air, landing behind the second mercenary.

That mercenary was about to reload when suddenly his hand felt light.

Gun snatched?

No—hand gone.

Gu Chen held a sharp shard left from breaking the glass earlier—swift, precise, ruthless—severing the opponent’s wrist tendons.

“Ah!!”

The scream just started when a hand clamped it shut.

Gu Chen single-handedly lifted the brute—using him as a human shield.

Pew pew pew!

His comrades’ bullets all hit this unlucky guy’s bulletproof vest.

This was Black Kui’s level now?

Truly worse with each generation.

Gu Chen mocked coldly in his heart—using the corpse as cover, wrist flicking—that glass shard shooting like a throwing knife.

Whoosh!

Right into the third mercenary’s throat.

This wasn’t the body’s ability—but Gu Chen’s dart-throwing honed feel.

In a blink, four down to one.

Only the leader left.

The leader panicked.

He’d rolled in battlefields for over a decade—never seen such a monster.

Thermal couldn’t capture the opponent’s position—not just low body temp, but movement speed so fast it lagged the gear!

“Come out! Come out for me!”

The leader swept wildly around until the firing pin clicked empty.

Out of ammo.

In the dark, a cool hand landed on his shoulder.

The leader stiffened—drawing his tactical dagger, wanting a desperate fight.

“Don’t move.”

The woman’s voice rang again. “This outfit’s pricey—don’t want blood on it.”

Next second, the world spun.

He was slammed hard with a standard over-shoulder throw—then a bare small foot stepped on his chest.

That foot looked delicate, even petite—but stepping down, heavy as a mountain.

Crack.

Sternum shattered.

“Cough puh…” The leader spewed blood—through night vision, finally seeing who stepped on him.

A woman in loose hospital clothes.

Long hair disheveled, skin whiter than snow.

Most terrifying were those eyes—faintly glowing gold-green in the dark, vertical pupils cold—like death gazing at ants.

“This move… you’re…” The leader’s eyes widened.

“Know too much.”

Gu Chen pressed his foot—thoroughly crushing his heart.

World quieted.

Gu Chen retracted his foot—disgustedly wiping sole blood on the corpse’s clothes.

“So dirty.”

He complained low—turning to the console in the corner.

“How long you hiding? President Qin.”

Snap.

Qin Hongyi turned on the prepared flashlight.

Beam hit Gu Chen.

That seemingly frail woman now stood amid four corpses.

Ground full of blood—yet her loose hospital gown really unstained by a drop.

Only her lips—residual un-wiped red from before.

Demonically alluring, wicked.

Like a glamorous ghost crawled from hell.

Qin Hongyi’s gun-holding hand trembled slightly.

Even in dark, she could piece the fight from sounds.

One-sided slaughter.

Even her top bodyguards couldn’t do this.

“Young Master Gu…”

Qin Hongyi took a deep breath—forcibly suppressing her heart’s throb—stepping over corpses to him. “Looks like those three hundred million weren’t wasted. This blade of yours—sharper than I imagined.”

Gu Chen glanced coldly—his vertical pupils slowly normalizing.

“Blade?” He scoffed—striding out. “Qin Hongyi—get it straight.”

“I’m the one holding the blade. And you…”

Gu Chen paused by her—tilting his head, that stunning face showing a arrogant smile belonging to Gu family’s young master.

“You’re trembling.”

The air was full of rusty tang—thick enough to choke.

Gu Chen stood barefoot in the corpse pile—that loose hospital gown hanging slack, collar open—exposing a pale, exquisite collarbone.

Sticky blood pool underfoot—but he acted fine, disgustedly wiping his soles on a corpse’s clothes.

Beam shook.

Qin Hongyi’s flashlight unsteady.

She stared fixedly at this angel-faced woman doing shura deeds.

Breath chaotic.

Besides instinctive fear—blood surged with a scalp-tingling excitement.

“Scared already?”

Gu Chen casually swept his disheveled long hair back—toe-kicking a corpse. “President Qin wasn’t planning to make me a specimen? Surprised? The specimen’s alive—and bites.”

Qin Hongyi took a deep breath—forcibly steadying.

“Who are you exactly?” Her voice dry. “Gu Chen only plays capital and golf—this one-hit kill, and predicting Black Kui tactics… you’re not him.”

“People change.”

Gu Chen couldn’t be bothered explaining—squatting, rummaging the leader corpse.

These fair, tender hands doing rough corpse-search—carried a weird elegance.

Seconds later—he fished a black tactical communicator.

“What are you doing?” Qin Hongyi frowned.

“Watch—free lesson for you.”

Gu Chen deftly popped the back—pulled encryption chip—backhand slotting into the corpse’s tactical vest portable decoder.

His moves fluid—dazzlingly fast for Qin Hongyi.

Beep.

After piercing static—a voice-altered recording rang in the dead silent basement.

“…Confirm target West Mountain abandoned hospital. Qin Hongyi no heavy firepower—I want her alive. As for that Gu Qingcheng experiment body—ruin the face, dismember limbs and bring to me.”

Recording just ten seconds short.

Qin Hongyi’s face instantly ashen—gaze阴鸷 enough to drip water.

Even voice-altered—that sentence habit, that hypocritical tone—she’d recognize ashes.

“Second Uncle…” Qin Hongyi gnashed. “Qin Mu, you old undead.”

Gu Chen stood—tossing the bloodied communicator in hand.

Smack.

Communicator precisely smashed by Qin Hongyi’s high heel—shattering.

“Looks like President Qin’s family bonds aren’t great.”

Gu Chen mocked. “Black Kui takes orders with an iron rule—employer must provide real-time coords. If I’m not wrong—your driver, that doctor earlier, even your current security—all sieves.”

Qin Hongyi’s chest heaved—staring fixedly at ground shards.

“You know Black Kui’s base code?” She jerked up—gaze changed. “That stuff only past leaders’ patrons know.”

“Coincidence.”

Gu Chen stepped to her—their distance pulled to ambiguous ten centimeters.

He extended bloodied fingertip—lightly lifting a strand of Qin Hongyi’s hair, casually toying:

“Three years ago—Black Kui nearly starving in Africa dead pile—someone dropped them fifty million.”

Gu Chen’s voice low—carrying wickedness: “That person—surname Gu.”

Qin Hongyi’s pupils shrank sharply.

Gu Chen.

Again Gu Chen.

So the sword over her head—was personally sharpened by that bastard Gu Chen?!

“Don’t look at me like that—creepy.” Gu Chen released—tone indifferent. “How’d I know three years later I’d turn this ghost—and kill my own dogs to save your life? What a sin.”

He suddenly closed a step—forcing Qin Hongyi back against cold wall.

Though current body half-head shorter than Qin Hongyi—looking frail powerless—but his innate superior pressure made him seem overlooking.

“Qin Hongyi—brain clear.”

Gu Chen raised a finger—pressing woman’s vivid red lips.

“Now situation—you’re full of ghosts, home dragon pond tiger den. Only one saving your life—and cleaning house—is me.”

“So…”

Gu Chen’s gaze chilled—tone sinister. “Stop looking at me like a pet. From now—I’m your partner, bodyguard, and lifeline.”

“I want the master bedroom, cooked food, unbloodied clothes. And…”