Chapter Eleven: Departure

Personnel Manager's Office.

Ling Tian sat in his chair, lost in thought, a file in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The deal was set for ten o’clock tonight. If he didn’t show up today, it wouldn’t really affect the transaction. Clearly, the company had made plans long in advance, and his arrival was merely a matter of convenience—they needed another body, and he fit the bill.

Sending a newcomer to handle such an important affair likely meant it wasn’t so critical after all.

But as soon as this thought crossed his mind, he sensed something was off. If it really was a black market deal, there had to be a degree of danger...

As Ling Tian mulled it over, the office door swung open. Wang Ling sauntered in, her steps feline, her shapely legs swaying with each move. She stopped in front of Ling Tian and flashed a sly smile. “Handsome, how’s your preparation coming along? Want me to share a drink with you, give you a proper send-off?”

Ling Tian felt nothing for Wang Ling; she had a certain flair, but wasn’t his type. He showed little interest, his tone cold: “No need for a send-off. I’ll be there for the transaction on time.”

With that, Ling Tian set his file alight, tossed it into the trash, then turned to leave.

Wang Ling was left staring in confusion. What was going through Ling Tian’s mind? Anyone else, knowing they were about to take part in a black market deal, would surely ask about the details, even if they weren’t timid. Yet Ling Tian, after learning only the time, location, and code word, asked nothing further.

“Don’t you want to know more about the situation?” Wang Ling couldn’t help but ask. She couldn’t tell if Ling Tian was a fool or simply overflowing with confidence. In her eyes, he seemed more like a reckless youth.

Ling Tian didn’t even look back. “I know what I need to know. I’m not interested in the rest. Just don’t forget to prepare the cash and a detailed inventory of the goods. If you’re not specific, I can’t inspect them properly.” With that, he left the HR department.

“At nine tonight, pick up the items from the security office,” Wang Ling called out after his retreating figure, her tone exasperated. Ling Tian’s indifference toward her flawless appearance irked her more than she cared to admit.

Ten o’clock that evening.

At nine, Ling Tian changed into a black tracksuit and sunglasses, strolling into the security office of the Allure Group with a leisurely air.

Inside the security office stood ten burly men, all clad in black suits and sunglasses, standing in a disciplined row. Their posture and formation betrayed their professional, military-grade training. In front of them sat a large black bag and an unopened bulletproof vest.

As soon as Ling Tian entered, Wang Ling greeted him, glancing at her watch. Exactly ten o’clock. She smiled, “Right on time.”

Ling Tian’s brows lifted slightly at the sight of the ten bodyguards. “What are they here for?” he asked.

Wang Ling responded quickly, “They’re hired from a security firm, responsible for your personal safety. Don’t worry, they’ve all signed confidentiality agreements. Here’s one million in cash and the bulletproof gear. You should put it on now, just in case.”

Confidentiality agreements? Ling Tian gave a dismissive snort. Those were just for show. As long as the deal went smoothly, it didn’t matter. The ten bodyguards, as far as he was concerned, were little more than dead weight. But the bulletproof vest—he donned it dutifully. In his prime, he would have had a sixty percent chance of dodging a bullet in a firefight; injured as he was now, he could count on less than twenty percent.

“The car’s ready. You can set out now—bring back good news,” Wang Ling said earnestly. For all her flirtations, her loyalty to Allure Group was unwavering. “I’ll get started on the victory banquet.”

Ling Tian packed the bag with practiced ease, hefting the million in cash—over twenty pounds, yet feather-light in his hand, as though he were carrying an empty box. With the case in hand and the bodyguards in tow, he strode out of the security office. The eleven of them split between a sedan and a van.

Once Ling Tian had gone, Mu Qingcheng emerged from the inner room, gazing out the window at the departing vehicles.

Wang Ling said, “President, everything’s arranged. You should go rest. I’ll let you know the moment there’s news.”

“It should be fine. Just a simple transaction. At worst, we lose some money.” Mu Qingcheng tried to reassure herself. In truth, Ling Tian’s presence or absence made little difference to this deal. Black market or not, the nature of the exchange was the same: money for goods, hand to hand. The only difference was that black market deals were far more dangerous, with double-crosses all too common.

The reasons for double-crosses were simple: large sums and mutual greed, or a vast difference in strength between the parties.

Every small family and enterprise had their share of shady dealings—falsifying accounts, tax evasion, and so on. The great clans and major corporations were even worse.

“President, all our black market deals have gone smoothly so far. This one should be no different. Please, get some rest. Leave the rest to me,” Wang Ling murmured, motioning for the aides to escort Mu Qingcheng away. She kept one thought to herself: she was prepared for the worst—if necessary, she’d call the police.

At nine thirty, Ling Tian and his group drove to the meeting spot—a perilous shoal on the Yangtze’s banks. Jagged rocks, sharp as knives, rose and fell along the broad shoreline. The river, stirred by the wind, sent wave after wave crashing against black boulders. Save for the water’s roar and the chirring of crickets, the night was silent.

By the dim moonlight, Ling Tian led his men to the riverside. A glance at his watch: nine forty-five. Their contact had yet to appear. Veterans, he thought—never show up early. The point was to arrive, transact, then leave at once, minimizing exposure.

As a king among mercenaries, Ling Tian had not only undergone rigorous military training, but had also amassed a wealth of experience on countless battlefields. The smallest detail could spell disaster, and for Ling Tian, any mission had only two outcomes: success or death.

His first move was to survey the terrain. The rocky shoreline spanned over a thousand square meters, the black stones uneven, some towering two meters high due to the receding tide, scattered at random. The terrain favored both escape and ambush.

The faint moonlight blurred human vision—a boon for Ling Tian, whose martial training left his night sight nearly unimpaired.

Within five minutes, he had memorized the layout. His gaze finally settled on the largest boulder by the water—a massive, elliptical rock, over ten meters long and seven or eight wide. This, he knew, was the platform for tonight’s exchange.