The KIng is Back

December 23, 2021. London. The street outside Barclays Bank Headquarters. A gray-haired middle-aged man walks out of the bank's front door, with a crowd of black-suited individuals following closely behind. A Mercedes-Benz is parked by the roadside with the door open, and several security guards stand in strategic positions, scanning the surroundings. The middle-aged man mutters to his assistant as he walks towards the car, "I told those fund vampires that if they didn't strike first, it would be a grand feast. Damn, no matter what crisis, the expected earnings of 10 billion are worth it, even if it goes to hell." Before he can finish his sentence, there is a sudden loud bang! The man's head explodes like a watermelon, splattering his assistant with blood and gore. The assistant screams in shock, and the well-trained security guards spring into action, quickly assessing the trajectory and location of the gunfire, and rushing towards it. After a few minutes, the location of the sniper is found in a building some distance away, along with the rifle and equipment. "Damn, it was remote controlled," one of the guards exclaims. Meanwhile, in a cafe on the street below, a woman in a windproof coat emerges. Her Asian heritage is evident from her black hair and eyes. She strides to the roadside, her S-level long legs clad in high boots, and quickly disappears into a narrow alleyway. She retrieves a windproof coat from a hidden spot behind a trash can, putting it on to transform her appearance. With sunglasses on and an air of confidence, she looks like an elite model. She unlocks a Land Rover parked by the roadside, retrieves a cellphone and a car key from inside. She dials a pre-saved number on her phone. "This is Firefly reporting. The target has been eliminated. By the way, the little gadget you made worked well, just a minor issue with wind speed. Will improve it next time, Fox." A hoarse voice with a Latin accent replies on the other end of the call, "Copy that, prepare to evacuate the area." The woman asks, "What's my next assignment?" "There is no further assignment. Latest orders are for everyone to go into silent mode," replies the voice. "Silent mode? For how long?" the woman furrows her brow. "Permanent," comes the cold response from the other end of the phone. The woman slams her foot on the accelerator of her Land Rover, bringing the vehicle to a screeching halt by the roadside. "Silent mode? Permanent?" Her voice trembles slightly. After a moment of silence, she can no longer contain herself and shouts into the phone, "Whose orders are these? I need to speak to BOSS!" The voice on the other end of the line replies, "These are BOSS's orders, issued one hour ago. Here's an excerpt of the transmission." "You're lying! You damn Fox! You're definitely lying!" The woman is frantic, threatening to shoot the phone. "I swear, if you lie to me again, I will blow your head off with a bullet!" The voice on the phone remains hoarse and icy, "I'm sorry, but you don't need to do that. After all these years, you know me well, and you know him well too." The woman sits in her car, pounding the steering wheel in frustration. "So, he really left this time, didn't he? Did he really... leave?" Her voice trembles with emotion. Telephone on the other side sounded indifferent: "His final words: He hopes after us, can go to heaven, but hell... makes him go, was good," she continued saying, "Ok, executing an order, Firefly! This is how we talked over the telephone for the last time, so that the next generation sees." The telephone hung up, emitting a constant busy signal. The woman took off her sunglasses, and her carefully applied makeup was now smudged by tears, with black eye shadow running down her face. In her eyes, there was deep sorrow. The sound of sirens grew louder and closer as police vehicles approached from a distance. The woman suddenly grabbed her cell phone and sent a message to a certain number. Then she threw the phone aside, pushed aside the bystanders' car, stood in the middle of the road, pulled out a pistol, and fired continuously into the sky, crying out in anguish. She emptied the magazine in one breath. "!!!!" The pedestrians on the street screamed and scattered in all directions, while car owners abandoned their vehicles and fled in fear as the police vehicles swarmed in. After a moment, the woman lit a cigarette, standing in the center of the road. She took a deep drag on the cigarette, then flicked the butt to the ground. "Hell? No, I won't let you go there alone. I will accompany you!" she exclaimed. As the police vehicles stopped in the distance and the officers approached with guns drawn, the woman sneered, holding a silver dagger in her hand. She ruthlessly plunged the dagger into her own heart. In the car, the cell phone finally received a message: Firefly, offline! ... In an aircraft flying at 20,000 feet, used for parachute training, a woman with short golden hair and a well-built figure listened to the last few words on her cell phone. "...His final message... executing an order... the next generation sees." The blonde woman hung up the phone, sat down slowly, and her beautiful face fell into a daze. In front of her, a man who was checking the parachute equipment suddenly stopped moving and furrowed his brow. "Alice, is there something wrong with you? We need to reach the designated parachute location soon, and you seem a bit off. That phone call just now..." The blonde woman suddenly pulled out a gun from her bosom and pointed it at the man! The man's complexion changed and he exclaimed in alarm as he jumped back. "Sit down, Mr. Pierre," said the blonde woman, opening her eyes with a sadness that words couldn't describe. "Alice... you..." The blonde woman took a deep breath. Her speech was fast, and her tone was calm, almost mechanical. "First, my name is not Alice, that was a fake name. My mission is to get close to you as your parachute coach... and during this parachute jump, I will directly kidnap you, Mr. Pierre. Some people have entrusted us with a research project you participated in several years ago for the military, and they need something from you... which has nothing to do with me. I am getting close to you to kidnap you and hand you over to them. Then I will collect my reward... and naturally, you are quite valuable, worth 30 million US dollars." Pierre turned pale and looked around nervously. "Alice... you're saying things I don't understand..." "No, you understand perfectly well. Your pupils are dilating, you're scared," said the blonde woman, shaking her head, her tone still calm but filled with dread. "Mr. Pierre, we spent a month planning this k********g, and then..." "Alice! I think we can chat," Pierre stuttered. "I can pay many-" "I didn't call Alice," the blonde woman interrupted casually. "But you're in luck. Just a minute ago, I decided to cancel that duty. Now you can walk." "...Walk?" Pierre stared wide-eyed. The blonde woman pointed her gun at the door to the engine room. "Grab your parachute bag and jump." Pierre tried to say something, but the blonde woman silenced him with a gesture as she unlocked the gun safe. A minute later, Pierre jumped from the engine room gate with his parachute bag, opening it midair. In the cockpit, the blonde woman muttered as if thinking aloud, "Hell? I didn't mean for you to walk so fast. Wait for me, I'll catch up with you." Her cellphone beeped with a transmitted message. "Hummingbird, offline!" As Pierre fell through the air, he witnessed a scene he would never forget. The trainer aircraft he had been on crashed into a distant mountain peak, exploding into bright fireworks. ... In a dark room, only the computer screen emitted light. On the screen, head pictures and names turned black and white. The person's hands hovered over the keyboard, the nails digging into the palms, drawing blood. On the screen, after each name, a dialog box displayed the same final message. "Ox head, offline!" "Hummingbird, offline!" "Blueberry, offline!" "Iris Flower, offline!" "... offline!" Offline! Offline! Offline!!! The woman, who exuded Latin character and style, cried uncontrollably in front of the screen, stained hands dripping with blood. "So, Chen Nuo, you foolishly thought that by leaving and offering us a deal, we would keep quiet for the rest of our lives? You don't understand that each of us, ever since you pulled us from the abyss and the mire of destiny, has only lived for you." She calmly retrieved a gun from a drawer, a single bullet loaded in the magazine. She inserted the clip, released the safety, and her hands were steady with unmatched stability. "Your place is in hell." The Latin woman smiled as she aimed the gun at her own forehead. "Fox, offline!" she declared. Bang! A gunshot rang out. ... Life is sometimes like a brook, other times like rivers and streams. Occasionally, rainwater from brooks converges with rivers and streams, eventually rushing into the sea. Life is like that, akin to the vastness of space and time, like the myriad things in the universe. ... But on the afternoon of December 23, 2000, Chen Nuo, who had just returned to this timeline, wearing an ugly and oversized blue and white school uniform, stood outside the classroom. It was no coincidence that he found himself listening to a math class from outside the classroom. It was even less surprising that after decades of not touching these high school textbooks, Chen Nuo could easily solve the math problems on the blackboard, as if reading a heavenly book. "Yeah, life is unworthy," Chen Nuo sighed with a sense of weariness. On the sports field, students played soccer, young males drenched in sweat and hormones, yelling and running wildly to catch the attention of female students. From where Chen Nuo stood, he could see some male students in the back rows of the classroom hiding Jin Yong's novel under their math books. He could also spot Jay Chou's labels on the pencil cases of some female students in the front row. Chen Nuo looked up at the sky, even though it was winter, the sunlight still shone brightly. "So, is this my punishment or my reward, heaven?" Chen Nuo pondered with a bitter smile. Just then, a shadow dropped from the clouds and landed right in front of him...or more accurately, on top of him. "Hmmm...soft, but flexible," Chen Nuo thought, a bit confused. The sound of a scream reached his ears.