Chapter 122: Numbers Make a Difference

“Kondo Sei, we’re heading straight to Sunset Bridge in Lower Kyoto District.”

Ji Li pulled the Japanese girl along, barely glancing at the remaining four, and hurried to hail a taxi.

“You four handle yourselves.”

Ji Li had thought they had arrived early enough, but he hadn’t expected the hotel to play such a trick.

Why could the Fourth Branch reach first?

It had to mean they would face some disadvantage in this mission.

But the mission hadn’t even started yet—what disadvantage could there be?

It was obvious: they were outnumbered.

Only such an arrangement made it fair, consistent with the hotel’s planning.

But why were they fewer in number…

Ji Li’s mind understood the reason clearly.

The Fourth Branch couldn’t have arrived in Kyoto much faster than they did; otherwise, they wouldn’t have still been stuck at the airport.

The taxi arrived. The stout driver rambled on in Japanese; Ji Li ignored him, his gaze fixed on the tunnel.

What would Fang Shenyan find there?

Information on ghosts, news of the Fourth Branch, or perhaps both.

That would need to be discussed the next time they met.

Kondo Sei conversed briefly with the driver, preparing to depart.

But just then, the front passenger door opened from the outside. Mei Sheng shook off some snow and got in.

Ji Li looked up, unsurprised. He had long anticipated her actions.

From Mei Sheng, he saw a shadow of Fang Shenyan.

If she survived this mission, she might become someone Ji Li could rely on—but, like Fang, she was unlikely to become a companion like Yu Guo.

Meanwhile, Cui Yanqing hurried over, knocking on Ji Li’s window and shouting:

“Manager, we don’t speak Japanese! You took Kondo Sei—how are we supposed to get to Sunset Bridge?”

Ji Li frowned slightly, glanced out the window, and cracked it open.

Coldly, he said: “Search for Sunset Bridge on your phone and use a translation app for the driver.”

Cui Yanqing slapped his forehead, frustrated at having overlooked such a simple solution, and, along with the bewildered Chi Rou and Gao Liangping, hailed the next taxi.

“Cui Yanqing, clever one,”

Mei Sheng muttered absently, glancing at the moving vehicles.

Kondo Sei didn’t understand, and Ji Li made no comment.

Using a phone app to translate—was it really that difficult?

Not at all. Judging by Cui Yanqing’s behavior, why hadn’t he thought of it?

Instead, he had panicked and hurried over to ask.

“Damn!”

He was putting on an innocent act, concealing his true abilities.

And the purpose behind this little performance?

There was only one answer: Sin Artifacts.

Since Fang Shenyan had explained the effects of Sin Artifacts, almost every newcomer saw them as a lifeline—something that could withstand ghost attacks, irresistible to anyone.

Perhaps, in some minds, the enemies of this mission weren’t just the ghosts or the Fourth Branch…

But also fellow staff, fellow companions.

This wasn’t a despicable thought; Ji Li understood it well.

Yet Cui Yanqing’s little scheme looked clumsy in front of Ji Li.

But Ji Li didn’t expose him; instead, he fed into the illusion, showing him the method.

His aim was to make Cui Yanqing believe he had really fooled Ji Li. Over time, his true nature would reveal itself.

The smarter someone thinks they are, the closer they often are to making a fatal mistake.

Ji Li, adept at calculating others, was never outmaneuvered.

Mei Sheng’s earlier remark hinted at one thing: Cui Yanqing might be clever, but Ji Li was far more difficult to provoke.

Ji Li watched the falling snow outside, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his coat.

Snowy days and cigarettes went hand in hand.

Fang Shenyan felt a twinge of regret; his current position was awkward.

The main problem was that he couldn’t understand Japanese.

Although he had taken cover in a relatively concealed spot, that only allowed him to overhear the negotiations between the staff and police.

And he couldn’t understand a single word of those negotiations.

In his predicament, he had no choice but to take out the hotel-issued phone and point it toward the officers.

They spoke, the phone translated, but he had already missed much of the conversation.

What Fang Shenyan could gather, however, was shocking: someone had died on the flight they had just taken!

This was unexpected, as there was still plenty of time before the mission began.

How could a ghost strike now?

And at a time when his Ghost Eye had shown no activity?

Fang Shenyan’s expression darkened as he listened. The death had occurred an hour earlier.

In other words, during their flight, someone mere meters from them had been killed by a ghostly hand—and he, the bearer of a Sin Artifact, had been completely unaware.

The Ghost Eye had two functions.

The first, already publicly known, was the active use to dispel spiritual attacks from ghosts.

The second, which he had kept secret, was a passive effect.

It allowed him to detect the activity of nearby ghosts, transmitting visual impressions directly into his mind.

This was the Ghost Eye’s core function. Being passive, it had no cost and no cooldown.

To possess a functional Sin Artifact like this as a first was fortunate indeed.

At that moment, the eye in his left hand flickered—indicating a ghost’s presence nearby.

The eye spun in his palm, relaying fragmented images into his mind.

His ears caught muffled groans and the sound of bodies collapsing.

Then the vision cleared: the lightly scarred man, holding a syringe in his hand, surrounded by toppled staff and officers.

He spun and slapped a young man beside him, scolding:

“Who told you to pull out the Sin Artifact now?”

A nervous young man, wearing a thick down jacket and drenched in sweat, replied:

“There are people dead inside—I think it’s the work of a ghost…”

“Should I put it away?”

“No need. As long as it’s not used actively, there’s no cooldown. Keep it.” The lightly scarred man spoke with confidence. His tone wasn’t harsh, but his commanding presence was undeniable.

“This time, we’re coordinating with the Seventh Branch. I know nothing about them—never even heard of a Seventh Branch.

I assume they aren’t too strong, but we must remain cautious. We have five members on this mission, and they have seven.”

“Yes, Assisant Manager!”

Fang Shenyan’s mind tensed. So the Fourth Branch had only five members on this mission—no wonder they arrived in Kyoto early.

The identity of the lightly scarred man was now clear: the renowned Xue Tinghai.

Judging by the description, his personality seemed even more formidable than Tongguan had suggested. With multiple Sin Artifacts and exceptional skill, he showed no contempt for a newly established branch. He was truly a formidable figure.

“Five against seven…”

Fang Shenyan now shared the same thought as Ji Li: why the disparity in numbers?

It couldn’t be that the hotel, out of kindness, intentionally weakened the Seventh Branch, assuming they couldn’t contend with the Fourth?