Chapter 1513 - 727_2

Chapter 1513: Chapter 727_2

"According to what he reported to Noah Headquarters afterward, that man was wearing a white Evil Ghost Mask, his muscles were monstrously developed, his temperament cruel and violent. He liked to go completely naked and grapple at close range, and relying only on his fists, punched a hole in the bottom hold of a ship, causing it to capsize and sink."

"That intensely personal, violent style is almost identical to the White Owl’s."

Hearing this, the White Ghost’s fingertips tightened slightly, the metal mesh warping sharply.

"Looks like he was already hiding inside the True Thought Society back then, just covering it up very well."

"Your analysis is absolutely correct, Captain."

The Night Owl gave a tiny bit of flattery, then went on:

"Back then, the Noah Organization’s Hunter squad was wiped out at sea. Rumor has it they ran into the True Thought Society’s Divine Son."

"This Divine Son emerged from the ocean, leading a Merfolk army, and struck so hard that Noah Organization, which had held the advantage, was caught completely off guard.

"Superb in the water, able to communicate with the Merfolk and drive them to fight—clearly, the True Thought Society’s new Chairman and that so‑called ’Divine Son’ are one and the same person."

"Which also neatly explains why the White Owl suddenly showed up in East Capital and, regardless of cost, targeted the Noah Organization for sniping, almost overturning their entire branch."

The Night Owl rattled on, closing the logical loop:

"Because Noah has been poaching Merfolk on Yong’an Island for years, and even launched a massive assault on True Thought Society’s headquarters, slaughtering many members. The hatred between them is to‑the‑death and cannot be resolved."

The White Ghost faced the gale, his gaze fixed on the distant coastline shrouded in night.

After a brief moment of thought, he asked:

"Have you investigated the true identity of this new Chairman?"

"I have."

The Night Owl replied, his voice carrying a trace of difficulty:

"His origins seem to have been deliberately obscured. The True Thought Society’s upper echelon must be keeping this strictly confidential."

"However, based on the Chairman’s facial features described by those lower‑level members of True Thought Society, and comparing them with our current high‑priority surveillance target... Fang Cheng, the match is extremely high."

"Fang Cheng?"

The White Ghost’s hand stilled, a sharp light flashing in his eyes.

"Yes. And I’ve cross‑checked Fang Cheng’s movements."

The Night Owl continued:

"This January, he disappeared for a stretch of time. His public excuse was going to an island for a relaxing vacation."

"And just a few days ago, he borrowed a friend’s luxury yacht and went out to sea again. We still haven’t pinned down the yacht’s exact port of call, but combined with the time of Hattori Kyuzo’s death and the yacht’s maximum cruising range, the odds are high that it was Yong’an Island."

The White Ghost’s gaze flickered as he muttered under his breath:

"Interesting... all the clues line up."

"Exactly."

The Night Owl then added:

"At first we even suspected the White Owl might be his father. Now it looks far more likely that he himself is the White Owl."

Wooo—

Cold air from high above drilled into his nasal cavity through the gaps in the mask. The White Ghost felt the blood in his body begin to race.

He let go of the wire mesh and gave a soft laugh, speaking slowly:

"A Martial Artist who can train his fists to that level... I’m getting more and more eager to meet him in person and try out the Blade Technique I’ve just comprehended."

The synthesized electronic voice was stretched and distorted by the wind, yet it couldn’t conceal that eager, itching excitement.

"Captain, please calm down."

The Night Owl heard the mania in his tone and hurried to dissuade him:

"Judging from the record he’s shown so far—three S-Class Experts in a row cut down—his true combat power, even conservatively, has already reached the threshold of Super S-Class."

On the other end of the line, the Night Owl clearly didn’t want to get burned because of the White Ghost’s impulsiveness.

After all, he had once personally witnessed that shocking scene of the White Owl blowing apart the Ghost Scythe and descending from the sky.

With the kind of strength that slaughters S-Class Experts like chickens, how could he not be afraid? He still had a fine life to enjoy.

Countless thoughts flashed through the Night Owl’s mind, and he quickly used suitable reasons to persuade his immediate superior:

"Your Strength is beyond question, but once Experts of your level clash head‑on in East Capital, the damage and impact it causes simply can’t be contained."

"That would gravely violate the iron order from Lord Claude and the leader: during the critical phase of the plan, we must ’keep a low profile and lie dormant, absolutely no rash moves.’"

At the words "the leader," the fever in the White Ghost’s eyes gradually cooled.

Toward the man who had bestowed upon him the Strength to break through his genetic shackles, he felt absolute reverence and dared not disobey in the slightest.

"Then in your view, how should we handle this variable?"

The White Ghost fell silent for a moment, then asked coldly.

The Night Owl let out a silent breath of relief and quickly put forward his suggestion:

"Before we’ve figured out his hole cards, it’s best to find an opportunity to probe his true depth first, then decide whether we need to draw on the Black Shark Organization’s reserves, or report to Lord Claude and deal with him together."

"How do we probe? Grab his mother and his relatives and friends, force him to show himself?"

Pure Assassin logic made the White Ghost instinctively offer the simplest, most brutal solution.

"No."

The Night Owl rejected it at once and explained:

"The intent there is way too obvious. Since he’s Chairman of True Thought Society, his family will definitely have sufficient manpower assigned to protect them. Acting by force will only startle the snake."

"Besides, right now he not only holds power in True Thought Society, he also has a staff position in the Special Search Team in the medical division."

The Night Owl stayed rational, patiently weighing the pros and cons:

"Once it involves family members of Special Search Team personnel, that upper echelon will absolutely not sit back and watch. If a chain reaction is triggered and the official Strength of Xia Country gets drawn in, Lord Claude’s plan will face enormous risk, with unimaginable consequences."

"So I believe the best way to probe is to ensure he never senses any trace of deliberate targeting."

"Be specific."

The White Ghost asked icily, his patience slowly running out.

The Night Owl pondered for a moment and laid out his idea:

"We can take an indirect approach. There’s no need to rush into action. Captain, there’s a saying: the calmer the surface, the easier it is for a man to let down his guard."

"As long as we patiently wait for an opening, use local power struggles in East Capital, or engineer some seemingly accidental ’natural events’ as a setup, we can lure him to step in of his own accord, forcing him to shed his disguise and reveal his hole cards. No matter how it turns out, the fire will never reach Black Shark."

The White Ghost inclined his head slightly, signifying his approval of the plan.

Although he despised this kind of skulking trickery in his bones, in the face of the larger situation he still knew how to weigh gains and losses. He wasn’t some reckless brute who always thought with his muscles.

"You’ll handle this. Put together a workable plan as soon as possible. Don’t make me wait too long."

The White Ghost issued the order coldly to the Night Owl, his deputy.

"Understood, Captain."

The Night Owl exhaled and promptly accepted the command.

The comm channel then cut off, the earpiece returning to silence.

The White Ghost stood alone on the edge of the roof terrace of a four‑hundred‑meter‑tall skyscraper.

Below his feet, the colossal steel beast that was East Capital shimmered with bewildering neon lights.

The ceaseless flow of vehicles converged along the main arteries into bright golden lines, pumping desire into every corner of the city.

He reversed his grip on the hilt of the blade at his back, thumb pressing against the guard and pushing forward.

Sching—

The long blade slid free.

The White Ghost held the katana level before him, then casually flicked it toward the front.

The surface of the blade suddenly flared with a blinding glow, the snow‑bright edge carving a half‑circle through the night sky.

There was no deafening blast, only a short, sharp hiss as the edge cut the air.

That seemingly offhand stroke carved out a strip of vacuum in midair.

The gale rushing toward him was split in an instant by the savage blade pressure, the turbulent airflow booming away to both sides.

Centered on the spot where his feet stood, the air within a radius of tens of meters briefly broke apart.

The howling wind fell silent.

The White Ghost lowered his head, staring at the mask reflected in the blade. In his gray‑white eyes burned pure, icy battle lust.

"Fang Cheng... don’t you dare disappoint me."