Chapter 127: “I Wait for It”

The wind suddenly howled, perhaps because the windows in Room 1712 were open.

The draft swept through, lifting Ji Li’s hair, his smile fleeting like a blossom in the night.

His face, in the presence of death and blood, became exceptionally cold, his naturally chilling aura intensifying.

Kondo Sei was terrified. It was the first time she had seen someone so ruthless.

Not long ago, she had thought Ji Li was a clever, capable leader with a commanding presence, but she never imagined…

This man was actually a demon in human skin.

She wanted to scream, to cry for help, but when she met Ji Li’s gray-black eyes, she froze, unable to make a sound.

Why did Ji Li kill?

It came back to the old saying: killing was never the goal. Clearing obstacles to pave the way for the next step was the key.

Ji Li didn’t shy away from killing, but he certainly didn’t take pleasure in it.

On the contrary, he found killing troublesome, though at times it could serve his convenience—like right now.

He shoved the corpse into the room, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped his blood-stained gloves.

Kondo Sei could only watch as Ji Li pried open Room 1714 and slipped inside.

About five minutes later, he emerged—perhaps because the occupants were more numerous, taking more time.

The motion-activated lights in the hallway had already gone out.

Ji Li’s voice was soft as he opened the window of 1714 and leaned out.

In midair, he saw a familiar face—Fang Shenyan.

Ji Li hadn’t explained the plan to Fang Shenyan, but clearly they shared an unspoken understanding.

Room 1813 was Takayama Seisho’s home. If the Fourth Branch came, the neighbors to question would naturally be 1812 and 1814.

Thus, the hunt began.

Ji Li and Fang Shenyan would take the place of the neighbors, lying in wait to ambush the Fourth Branch, striking with lightning speed to inflict casualties.

After achieving their objective, they would escape from the eighteenth floor to the pre-prepared seventeenth floor.

With spatial and temporal advantage, the Fourth Branch would be at a total disadvantage.

At that point, the benefits of seizing corpses and Sin Artifacts would increase.

Whether they would succeed remained uncertain.

A rope slid from Fang Shenyan’s hand; Ji Li caught it and tied one end to the window, preparing to reposition after the ambush.

The other room was prepared similarly.

Once everything was ready, Ji Li returned to Kondo Sei and pushed her into Room 1714.

“Stay here. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”

Kondo Sei now felt like a puppet, her ability to resist gone, at Ji Li’s mercy.

As Ji Li hid the corpse, he said to her:

“Don’t be afraid. The mission hasn’t started yet.

When it does, you’ll see what true terror is.

We’re only trying to survive.”

Kondo Sei looked at him, incredulous, her eyes sharp as she bit her lip:

“Survival is your right, but who gave you the right to take innocent lives?”

Ji Li paused briefly, then sped up his actions.

“Are there any truly innocent people in this world?”

Shivering, half with fear, half with anger, Kondo Sei finally said firmly:

“You will be punished for this!”

Ji Li didn’t care. He brushed past her, a chill wind following in his wake.

“I will wait for that day to come.”

“Once the power in the building is cut, the darkness will give us the advantage.”

Ji Li stood with hands in his pockets at the door of 1814, looking across at Fang Shenyan in 1812.

In truth, after all this time…

Ji Li admired Fang Shenyan the most.

They were alike in intellect and in temperament. Together, they exuded a seamless, unspoken synergy.

Even so, the two of them could never fully trust each other.

The room still carried a faint metallic tang of blood. Ji Li leaned against the doorframe, a cigarette between his lips.

Beside him, the phone screen glowed; he was on a call with Fang Shenyan.

“According to the neighbors, Takayama Seisho was just an ordinary office worker. He left at dawn and returned late at night, working diligently. A perfectly normal Japanese man. How he died—we have no idea.”

Ji Li nodded as he listened. “So in that sense, we’ve come here for nothing.”

“Not entirely. I found a train ticket to Sunset Bridge in Seisho’s drawer.”

Fang Shenyan’s voice sounded hollow in the room.

This, so far, was the only direct clue linking Takayama Seisho’s death to the Sunset Bridge ghost.

Ji Li’s eyes brightened. He pondered briefly, about to speak, when suddenly he heard chaotic, heavy footsteps in the corridor.

He immediately knew what it meant.

It was past three in the morning. The only organization that could arrive now was the Fourth Branch.

Without electricity, they would have to climb the stairs on foot. The eighteenth floor was high enough to demand significant effort.

Ji Li closed his eyes, listening intently.

His third persona in his mind began calculating:

“One, two, three, four… only four!”

Fang Shenyan’s voice disappeared from the call, clearly realizing the situation had escalated.

The Fourth Branch and the Seventh Branch were about to confront each other.

Even Ji Li felt a spark of excitement. Slowly, he pulled a black pistol from his back.

Since losing his previous weapon in the last mission, this was his latest acquisition.

Ji Li’s approach demanded precision and decisiveness; firearms were the ideal choice.

Outside, the footsteps had quieted, followed by a low grunt from a man.

Someone had reached the door, preparing to knock.

The approaching steps grew louder. Ji Li thought to himself: everything was going according to plan. This airtight strategy was about to be executed.

Slow steps stopped at his door.

This simple door separated two bitter enemies.

The man outside raised his hand, his eyes meeting the peephole.

Inside, Ji Li aimed his gun at the peephole.

The trigger’s spring creaked sharply. Press it, and the two sides would become deadly enemies—

And Ji Li would eliminate a competitor.