Chapter 002: Infiltration

There was a reason why Cross lived in such a place.

Because in front of his house stood an even shabbier one, where lived a young man named Wesley, who loved to escape reality—at the golden age of twenty-five, he had already resigned himself to idling his life away.

Wesley was a failed young man.

At work, Wesley's bulky boss berated him almost every hour, taking delight in tormenting him. Back home, Wesley's girlfriend treated him like thin air, as if he didn't exist.

Worse still, Wesley's girlfriend and his best friend had cuckolded him.

And Wesley knew it, yet he couldn't bring himself to break up with her cleanly.

Everyone who had deep contact with Wesley and knew him believed that a lazy slacker like him would end up achieving nothing. The worst part was that Wesley himself thought so too—to him, the meaning of life was just killing time, waiting for death.

The reason Cross stayed here was Wesley.

Of course, it wasn't because he had taken a liking to Wesley—he wasn't a pervert.

The real reason was... Wesley was his son.

Cross was a killer, so he knew better than anyone the tragedy of being one. To avoid implicating his family, Cross left Wesley's mother while Wesley was still in her womb.

But he didn't go far.

Instead, he secretly protected Wesley and his mother.

He witnessed Wesley's birth, schooling, growth—step by step into the person he was now. To Cross, Wesley was his entire life, more important than even dismantling the organization.

Because he cared too much, Cross never made contact with Wesley.

And Wesley never knew that his father, whom he had never met, had been silently protecting him from nearby all along.

Of course, Cross had now been replaced by Wang Bo, and Wang Bo had no interest in continuing to watch over this cheap son of his.

The reason he had returned to Cross's house was to retrieve Cross's identity and passport.

With these, Wang Bo could blend into this world more smoothly.

...

Time quickly moved to evening. Wesley's girlfriend returned.

Soon after, Wesley's best friend also arrived.

Seeing that Wesley wasn't back yet, they sneaked around and put a green hat on him.

Wang Bo turned a blind eye to this.

Because the meeting called by Sloan, the leader of the killer organization, was about to begin.

Wang Bo used teleportation to easily cross the long distance and arrived at the organization's lair, the office where the meeting was held.

But when Wang Bo reached the office, he was startled to find that he was late.

Sloan, seeing that everyone had arrived early, had started the meeting ahead of time.

Just as Wang Bo entered the meeting room, he heard Sloan say, "To kill Cross, we must find his weakness. And I happen to know a very obvious one. If we exploit it, we can smoothly eliminate that traitor, Cross—"

Sloan's voice cut off abruptly, his eyes wide, because he suddenly noticed an extra person in the room.

The others saw Sloan stop mid-sentence, his expression as if he'd seen a ghost.

They all followed Sloan's gaze and looked—and were so startled they jumped up, drawing their pistols and aiming at this uninvited guest.

Sloan glanced around, seeing everyone with guns trained on Wang Bo. With a single order, they could easily kill Cross.

But for some reason, Sloan felt a strong unease.

Though they had surrounded him, Sloan couldn't shake the illusion that they were the ones being surrounded.

Sloan couldn't help shaking his head, as if to shake off that illusion.

But the unease clung to his heart like a shadow, following him everywhere.

"How the hell did you get in, Cross?"

Sloan suppressed his unease and demanded. Everyone present, including himself, was a top-tier killer, yet not one had detected Cross's arrival.

It was simply unbelievable.

What's more, this was his lair, with layers of killers outside—yet no one had noticed Cross infiltrating. It was terrifying.

Had Cross's skill reached such a level?

Though surrounded by a group of killers, Wang Bo's expression didn't change. He knew he was impervious to blades and bullets; even though these people were super killers who could fire bullets that curved.

But it was useless.

He was bulletproof, okay? Not to mention curving bullets—even missiles were useless against Wang Bo.

Under the wary gazes of the crowd, Wang Bo pulled out a chair and sat down. "I came to tell you something today. No, I should say, order you to do something."

"What the hell are you up to?" Sloan asked.

"Disband the organization, Sloan," Wang Bo said casually.

"Are you joking, Cross?" Sloan certainly wouldn't disband the organization—it was his money-making machine. Lives were cheap nowadays, even worthless, but some lives were expensive—tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of dollars per life.

And with so many super killers under him, he could easily earn tens of millions by issuing a dozen orders.

What was the difference between that and picking up money?

Disband the organization? No way.

Wang Bo looked at the others. "What about you? Do you want to leave this organization and live a normal life?"

These people had originally gathered for a great goal. Considering they were merely being used by Sloan, Wang Bo could give them a chance.

Of course, Wang Bo knew that these people had innocent blood on their hands. But he was no saint like Superman—he was just an ordinary person who had gained superpowers.

The others stared at Wang Bo without blinking.

"Butcher, what's your answer?"

A fat man remained unmoved.

"And you, Repairman? Do you want to quit?"

A thin man raised an eyebrow and sneered disdainfully.

Wang Bo turned to a beautiful woman. "Fox, what about you? Do you want to quit?"

Fox tightened her grip on the pistol and said rudely, "Say one more useless word, and I'll blow your head off."