Chapter 106: Failed Attempt

The tattooed mercenary crouched silently in the deep shadows of a narrow alleyway, his massive frame completely motionless as he pressed his back against the damp, cold brickwork.

Positioned a few dozen meters down the road from the grand entrance of the mini-estate, he didn’t dare to move a muscle. He held his breath, his sharp eyes fixed on the entrance as the gates swung open for the third time that night.

This time, Song Heng didn’t step out alone.

Walking beside the guard was a young woman of breathtaking, peerless beauty. Her pale, flawless features looked almost otherworldly under the silver moonlight, her hair falling around her shoulders like spun silk. Yet despite her striking appearance, the mercenary didn’t spare a single second admiring her looks. The moment his gaze landed on her, every single survival instinct in his body screamed in absolute alarm.

The aura radiating from her was suffocating. It had nothing to do with her stunning physical appearance and everything to do with her absolute, terrifying lethality. She moved with the quiet, predatory grace of an elite combatant, her posture completely relaxed yet ready to burst into lethal violence at a fraction of a second’s notice.

More disturbing than her stance was the spiritual pressure emanating from her very presence. The air around her boots was literally freezing, dropping the ambient temperature of the entire street within seconds. A thin layer of white frost visualised on the cobblestones where she walked, creeping along the damp earth. Her cold, piercing eyes scanned the empty avenue with razor-sharp precision, looking for any trace of an intruder.

The mercenary suppressed a shudder, pressing himself even deeper into the pitch-black shadows of the alley until she finally stepped back inside the perimeter wall and the heavy deadbolt clicked firmly back into place.

Only when the iron latch slammed shut did he let out a long, silent sigh of relief. He reached up with a trembling, scarred hand and wiped a bead of cold sweat from his forehead.

That had been a ridiculously narrow escape. If he had hesitated for even a few seconds longer near those gates, or if he hadn’t deliberately left overlapping, scattered tracks to obscure his trail, that dangerous young woman would have undoubtedly hunted him down in the dark. A cultivator capable of altering the surrounding atmosphere simply by stepping outside was not someone he wanted to cross blades with, especially not for a simple reconnaissance job.

He waited in the dark for a few more minutes, ensuring that no further movement came from inside the estate. Watching the perimeter return to dead silence, he finally turned on his heel and quietly began his journey back toward the lower districts, his mind racing as he formulated a completely new strategy.

Infiltrating that estate was officially out of the question. Between the dense defensive array wrapped around the property, the alert guards patrolling the interior, and that deadly female cultivator standing watch, a night break-in was pure suicide. Anyone foolish enough to breach and then jump over those walls would find themselves frozen solid before they even hit the ground.

If he wanted to complete this hit, he would have to change his tactics entirely. He needed to ambush his target, young master Lu Feng, in a public space. A surprise attack in the bustling market districts, a crowded tea house, or an open thoroughfare would be far more effective. In those places, Lu Feng wouldn’t have the backing of a high-tier defensive array, nor would he be constantly surrounded by the estate’s hidden masters.

A slow, dark grin gradually spread across the mercenary’s scarred face as he navigated through the winding, dimly lit thoroughfares of the upper sector.

The mission was still very much ongoing. He wasn’t about to abandon a lucrative contract just because the target had some heavy backing. However, the situation had clearly changed, and that meant one major thing: the price had just gone up substantially.

Four spirit stones might have been a generous payout for a quick, quiet abduction of a wealthy noble kid with no real combat experience. But for dealing with a target who possessed personal guards, high-tier political standing, direct backing from Big Sister Su Rong, and a terrifying female cultivator residing under his roof? That original sum was practically insultingly low.

He would need to meet with his employer at the tavern first and lay out the new reality of the situation. If that secretive, robed contractor truly wanted Lu Feng crippled and ruined, they were going to have to fork over significantly more than the initial offer. Two or three times the original amount of spirit stones would be the absolute baseline before he even considered setting up an ambush.

As he walked farther away from the wealthy sector, his dark grin slowly morphed into a deep, irritated frown. The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he became.

That bastard contractor had clearly omitted crucial details about the target’s actual security! They had made Lu Feng sound like a simple, spoiled young master who had recently arrived in Crimson Vale with deep pockets and no real protection. They hadn’t mentioned the active defensive array, nor had they mentioned the lethal figures lurking inside the property.

He fully intended to give that robed figure a severe scolding during the renegotiation of their contract terms. If the employer refused to compensate him for the added risk, he would simply walk away from the deal entirely—or perhaps even sell the information about the hit directly to Lu Feng’s people for a neat profit. In the underground world, survival always came before loyalty to a cheap contractor.

As the opulent, quiet estates of the upper Eastern district faded behind him, the broad cobblestone avenues gradually narrowed, shifting into the familiar, grime-covered streets of the lower districts.

The serene silence of the upper district was slowly replaced by the distant, chaotic noise of night markets, gambling dens, and rowdy brothels. The air grew thicker, heavy with the stench of cheap liquor, stale sweat, roasted street food, and damp earth.

Closing in on his destination, his sharp eyes caught sight of a figure staggering down the center of the unpaved road ahead. It was an actual drunk, swaying dangerously from side to side, mumbling incoherently to himself while clutching a half-empty clay bottle of cheap wine by the neck. The man’s robes were stained and ragged, his steps so uncoordinated that he nearly tripped over his own feet with every stride.

The tattooed mercenary didn’t even break his stride as he approached the staggering fool. As he passed the slumping drunk, he reached out with a swift, fluid motion, snatched the clay bottle cleanly out of the man’s limp grip, and kept right on walking without stopping.

"Hey... my wine..." the drunk blinked stupidly, staring at his empty, upturned hand in confused silence before stumbling off balance and collapsing into a side alley.

The mercenary popped the wooden cork with his heavy teeth, spit it out onto the dirty cobblestones, and raised the clay vessel to his lips. He took a deep, heavy swig of the harsh, unrefined liquor. The burning sensation washed down his throat and settled into his stomach, taking the edge off the lingering chill that had seeped into his bones back at the estate.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he raised the bottle slightly toward the dark, starless sky and let out a gruff chuckle. The night was still young, and there was plenty of gold and spirit stones left to be made in Crimson Vale. With a steady, deliberate stride, he continued his walk back toward the noise, smoke, and shadows of his local tavern, ready to face his employer.