novelraw Chapter 358: The Hunter's Business Card
Chapter 358: The Hunter's Business Card
The underground laboratory, cut off from external airflow and experiencing intense thermal convection storms within, had become a veritable crucible of chaos.
The red smoke, freed from physical constraints, darted erratically between the ceiling and floor. Though shredded into tatters by the gale-force winds, it still retained a certain biological instinct of greed and hunger.
The Pharmacist stood before the control console flashing with red alarm lights. His white suit, soaked through with a dark red sweat seeping from his body, clung tightly to his skin. Protruding blood vessels writhed frantically beneath his skin, twisting his handsome, scholarly face into the grotesque visage of a monster.
He had completely relinquished control over the smoke.
Or rather, he no longer had any energy left to control those external things.
To seize a sliver of survival before the black reaper closing in with a blade, this mad biologist had activated the emergency modification program within his own body—his final line of defense—without the slightest hesitation.
The micro-injection device at his neck pumped a vial of undiluted, high-purity Blood Resin directly into his carotid artery. Simultaneously, dormant spores implanted within his subcutaneous muscle fibers, stimulated by a high concentration of adrenaline, began to explosively grow.
"Crack— Crack—"
The sounds of bone fracturing emanated from within his body.
The Pharmacist's frame swelled in size within mere seconds. His spine arched like a stretched spring, piercing through the skin of his back. His fingers, entangled with spore mycelium, mutated into two pale, hard, bony hooks resembling the talons of a bird of prey.This was an irreversible, suicidal enhancement that burned his life force in exchange for a brief burst of power.
But he didn't care.
If he didn't kill the man before him, he wouldn't even have the chance to commit suicide.
"Die—!!!"
Using the reaction force from the floor, the Pharmacist crashed through the wall of fire before him, lunging towards Lin Jie who had just emerged from the shadows of the flames, bringing with him a storm of blood.
The speed of this strike was astonishing, leaving a dark red afterimage in the air.
The muscle strength granted by biological enhancement gave him terrifying kinetic energy capable of tearing through steel plates. His swinging bone claws sealed off all evasion space to Lin Jie's left and right, attempting to completely crush the hunter who had ruined all his painstaking efforts.
But in Lin Jie's eyes, this seemingly ferocious pounce resembled a clumsy performance riddled with openings.
Too slow.
Not in speed.
But in consciousness.
A beast whose brain is utterly dominated by rage, fear, and drug side effects, even if granted immense power, is nothing but livestock awaiting slaughter.
Lin Jie stood quietly, his right hand gripping the Silencer in a reverse grip, his left hand slightly raised and hovering over his chest.
Just as the Pharmacist's venomous, wind-whipping claws were less than half a meter from his face—the absolute limit distance.
Lin Jie suddenly clenched his left fist, activating the Spiritual Guidance Trigger.
"Hum—"
An intangible Mental Impact instantly erupted.
It was an absolute pressure originating from the apex of the ancient mythical ecological niche, belonging to the sky's overlord, surpassing all mundane creatures.
For ordinary humans, this pressure might only cause a momentary palpitation or fear. But for the Pharmacist, whose body was implanted with numerous low-level UMA spores and whose biological essence had already mutated into a half-monster, it was nothing less than a soul-shattering hammer blow from a superior being.
Under the envelopment of this pressure, the Pharmacist's charging momentum experienced an extremely brief yet fatal pause.
The spores within his body, frantically growing, instinctively flinched, causing a momentary delay in his neural transmission signals.
His body stiffened for 0.3 seconds.
For Lin Jie, these 0.3 seconds were the tolling bell of the death sentence.
Lin Jie did not seize the chance to launch a frontal attack, because he knew the Pharmacist's enhanced bones and muscles still possessed formidable physical defense. A frontal assassination would be difficult to inflict a fatal wound in a short time.
He needed a more cunning, more undefendable angle.
Lin Jie's legs exerted force.
The direction of his sprint was towards the side wall covered with lead plates.
The ghostly blue light flowing across the surface of the Black Mercury trench coat surged. He used the wall for leverage, taking two steps up it.
Then, using the upward inertia and the wall's reaction force, he completed a small-radius, rebounding jump.
When the Pharmacist broke free from the soul-stunning rigidity and attempted to continue his attack, he was horrified to discover the target before his eyes had vanished.
A chill crept up the back of his neck.
Lin Jie had already appeared behind him—his absolute blind spot in both vision and defense.
"It's over."
A voice as cold as if it came from the depths of hell sounded beside the Pharmacist's ear.
Lin Jie swung the Silencer in his hand.
He chose a cruel and ironic method of execution.
The gray-white blade, carrying the law-like power of Wither and Extinction, precisely cut into the auxiliary respiratory muscle group below the Pharmacist's neck, connecting the lungs and airway. Then, with a smooth forward slice, it meticulously severed the vagus nerve and tracheal cartilage hidden deep within the muscle.
"Schluck—"
The Pharmacist's massive body shuddered.
His eyes, filled with frenzied killing intent just moments ago, were quickly overwhelmed by extreme terror.
He opened his mouth wide, desperately trying to inhale.
But he was horrified to discover that no matter how violently his ribcage heaved, no matter how frantically his brain sent commands, the air he depended on for survival simply could not enter his lungs.
His trachea wasn't completely severed, but the muscles controlling his breathing were paralyzed. The cut cartilage collapsed, blocking his airway.
He felt like a fish thrown ashore.
Or like those experimental subjects he had once locked in glass jars, watching them suffocate to death as he slowly drained the air.
Suffocation.
This agony he had inflicted upon countless innocents was now rebounding upon him with a hundredfold, a thousandfold intensity.
"Guh… Guh…"
Gurgling, wheezing sounds like a broken bellows came from the Pharmacist's throat. His hands frantically clawed at his own neck, his sharp bone talons leaving bloody gashes on his skin, but this only increased his suffering without any effect.
As oxygen deprivation intensified, the spores forcibly catalyzed by the drugs within his body began to run amok.
Losing the suppression of the host's will, they began to frantically consume the dying body. Red mycelium sprouted from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, transforming him into a disgusting monster cocoon.
Lin Jie stood to the side, coldly watching the Pharmacist writhe and struggle in agony on the ground until all movement finally ceased.
For someone like this, a long, despairing death process was the best judgment.
With the host's complete death, the red smoke in the laboratory, teetering on the edge of chaos, went completely berserk.
They began crashing into the walls and ceiling like headless flies, desperately trying to find an exit to escape this dying place.
If this smoke escaped into the city outside, it would be an unimaginable plague disaster.
"Purge."
Lin Jie said softly.
He grabbed a large, unbroken barrel of highly pure industrial alcohol from a nearby lab bench.
He unscrewed the lid, then flung it with force.
The liquid splashed evenly onto the corpse on the floor, the shattered furniture, and the sizzling circuit boards.
Lin Jie retreated beneath the ventilation duct he had broken earlier.
He took the silver lighter from his pocket, lit it, and casually tossed it backward.
A faint blue flame tumbled through the air, landing on the alcohol-soaked ground.
"BOOM—!!!"
Flames erupted.
Blue flames intertwined with red poison smoke, triggering an intense deflagration within the sealed underground space.
High temperature consumed everything.
The horrific flesh and blood crackled and popped in the blaze, turning into wisps of black smoke.
Lin Jie did not linger to admire this fiery feast.
He slipped into the ventilation duct a split second before the flames engulfed the opening.
Several minutes later.
An inconspicuous exhaust window at the rear of the manor was kicked open.
A black figure leaped out from the smoke-billowing window, landed, rolled to dissipate the impact, and then quickly melted into the shadows of the manor's dense shrubbery.
Behind him.
The luxurious white Western-style mansion was already glowing crimson, illuminated by the firelight surging from below.
The sounds of alarms, screams, and the shouts of dignitaries and nobles who had just awakened from their stupor, fleeing disheveled from the main gate, echoed throughout the Tanglin district.
But all this had nothing to do with Lin Jie anymore.
He straightened his somewhat disheveled collar, lowered his hat brim, and disappeared into the vast night and light rain like an ordinary passerby who had just finished the night shift.
The next day.
The weather in Singapore remained overcast.
A copy of The Straits Times, still smelling of fresh printer's ink, was delivered to the redwood Eight Immortals table in the Guangfu Funeral Parlor in Chinatown.
The front-page headline featured a shocking black-and-white photograph: the charred ruins of the "Canary Cage" club, reduced to crumbling walls and debris.
The title, in bold black font, read: "Major Fire at Private Club in Tanglin District, Suspected Gas Leak Explosion, Multiple Colonial Officials Suffer Minor Injuries, Estate Owner Tragically Perishes."
The report was filled with lamentations for the unfortunate demise of this British gentleman named "Pharmacist," describing him as a generous businessman passionate about charity and art. It made no mention whatsoever of drugs, monsters, or an underground laboratory.
Clearly, the colonial government had mobilized all its power to suppress the truth and cover up the scandal.
"Gas leak?"
Su Sanniang put down the newspaper in her hand, letting out a cold, mocking laugh.
"These foreigners' knack for fabricating lies hasn't changed in a hundred years."
She picked up the small, oil-paper-wrapped box that had just been delivered by a young beggar from the table.
Inside the box was only a uniquely designed ruby ring, its face carved with a canary entwined by thorns.
It was the token the Pharmacist always wore on his thumb, symbolizing his supreme authority within that underground drug trafficking network.
It was also the "case closure report" Lin Jie had sent.
"Clean and sharp."
Su Sanniang picked up the ring with two fingers, holding it up to the light. The inside of the ring still bore a trace of un-wiped black soot.
"Uprooted completely, leaving no loose ends."
"This kid's handiwork truly lives up to the name 'Scalpel'."
She casually tossed the ring into a nearby brazier.
"Go inform the Incense Masters of all the Hongmen halls."
Su Sanniang stood up, instructing the young apprentice sweeping outside the door.
"From now on, in Chinatown, anything concerning that Mr. Lin is my, Su Sanniang's, business."
"Anyone who dares be so blind as to provoke him should first order their own coffin."
...
Evening.
At the barge wharf along the Singapore River.
The air after the rain felt exceptionally fresh. The river's surface reflected the lights of the old warehouses and trading houses lining both banks. Flat-bottomed barges laden with cargo slowly navigated the waterway.
This was the city's artery, and also the place most imbued with the charm of the South Seas.
Lin Jie sat at an open-air coffee stall by the riverside.
He had changed back into his plain gray trench coat, the soft felt hat resting casually on his knee.
On the small round table before him sat a freshly brewed cup of South Seas coffee with condensed milk, and a plate of toasted kaya toast, golden brown and crisp.
He sat there, holding a piece of cotton cloth, meticulously wiping the blade of the short knife in his hand.
Although there was no trace of blood left on it, the act of wiping seemed to have become an instinct, a ritual to calm the restless emotions after a mission.
Around him was a bustling crowd.
Coolies just off work gathered to eat, Malay women in sarongs washed clothes by the river, and a few drunken sailors argued over which bar served stronger liquor.
Lin Jie gazed at the river flowing quietly before him, as if contemplating last night's fire, or perhaps pondering the enormous mystery hidden behind maps and starry skies.
He sheathed the knife, picked up the still-hot coffee, and took a sip.
The unique flavor—sweet yet bitter, with a hint of char—spread on his tongue, giving him the tangible feeling of being alive.
Just as Lin Jie set down his cup, preparing to settle the bill and leave.
He didn't notice.
In the shadows of a street corner not far from him, a dock coolie who had been squatting on the ground smoking a pipe, looking utterly unremarkable, slowly raised his head.
The coolie wore a tattered bamboo hat, its brim pulled low, obscuring his features.
But his eyes, hidden in the shadows, were not dull and lifeless like those of ordinary laborers.
On the contrary.
Those eyes were startlingly bright, gleaming with scrutiny and fanaticism.
His gaze pierced through the crowd, through the smoky atmosphere, locking firmly onto the black-clad back preparing to rise.
His fingers lightly stroked a badge sewn inside his collar.
"Found him."
The coolie's lips moved slightly.
"That variable."
Lin Jie, sensing something, glanced back.
But he only saw a group of ordinary coolies moving cargo.
He frowned slightly, not detecting anything unusual.
Perhaps he was being too sensitive.
He shook his head, picked up his hat and placed it on his head, then turned and melted into the bustling lights of Singapore's night.
And in that dark corner.
The coolie was still staring in the direction he had departed.