Chapter 18 - 18

Chapter 171 BusinessmanTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2236 wordsUpdate time: 2024-11-25 17:30:07

The leading man narrowed his eyes slightly, and his gaze lingered on Abel's face for a moment, as if he was weighing whether every word he said contained any hidden meaning. He picked up the teacup, took a sip, and said in a slightly slower tone: "You mean, they are testing your background?"

"Maybe." Abel smiled lightly, and that smile seemed to have a deeper meaning. His tone was calm, but with a confidence that could not be ignored. "Maybe they want to figure out where my bottom line is, or whether I am worth them taking a greater risk."

As he spoke, his fingertips gently fiddled with the chain of his pocket watch. The metal gleamed faintly in the dim light, matching the depth in his eyes.

The leading man was silent for a moment, put down his teacup, and looked directly at Abel: "It's not a good thing that the police are watching you. How do you plan to deal with this temptation?"

Abel raised his lips slightly, took out his pocket watch, lowered his head and adjusted the hands, and said calmly: "Difficult? No, I think this is an opportunity. The reason why the feather crown is so eye-catching is because of the story behind it. The reason I bought it is not because of its value, but because of the effect it can bring."

He raised his head with a determined look and continued, "Now that it has been taken away by the police, it doesn't matter to me. On the contrary, it only adds to its mystery. The reported rumors and the police seizure will only make it more attractive. And an attractive story is the most important asset for us businessmen."

Several people looked at each other, and the leading man smiled slightly: "You are indeed a shrewd businessman. Even if you encounter trouble like the police, you can turn it into a boost to your business."

Abel shrugged slightly, his tone casual but confident: "Risks and opportunities coexist, the key is how to use them." He tapped his fingers on the table and added, "I don't know the purpose of the police and those informants for now, but there is no doubt that their actions will only help me expand my influence. Guests in the East District like stories with a mysterious color the most."

At this point, he paused and his eyes became sharp: "However, there is one thing I want to remind you - if things get out of control, I will never sit idly by and wait for death."

The leading man frowned and pondered for a moment, but Abel picked up the teacup with a relaxed expression and took another sip, as if the warning just now was just a casual chat.

"The game has just begun." He whispered, his fingertips still fiddling with the pocket watch, "And I will only get the biggest benefits at the most appropriate time."

The fog outside the window grew thicker, covering the entire city, but the atmosphere inside the house gradually became heavy with the aroma of tea and conversation. Everyone's expression was obscured by the dim light, making it difficult to see through.

Abel suddenly put the pocket watch back into his pocket and said calmly, "The feather crown ornament is indeed related to several vendettas in Greenwell Town, but those are just excuses. It is just a lead, a rumor that I deliberately exaggerated to attract the attention of certain people. Now, it has reached the police station, and my plan has entered the next step. Next, you just need to spread some rumors to lure out those who are really interested."

The leading man looked serious: "But what if the rumor about this thing involves a secret that we don't want to expose? At that time, can you still control the situation?"

Abel raised his head to meet his gaze and said firmly, "Don't worry, I've investigated. The deceased who received the crown died for other reasons, and there are people who profit behind every incident. Truly evil things cannot appear in public unless they are allowed by the goddess."

He then made three points on his chest, completing his prayer to the goddess.

The third person who had been silent all this time finally spoke in a low voice: "Your plan sounds like dancing on the edge of a knife. If you make a mistake, you may end up in trouble."

Abel smiled slightly, stood up and walked to the window, looking at the street, and said in a steady tone: "The person walking on the tightrope will always see more clearly than the people standing next to him. I understand that you have concerns, but the winners of this game will only be us."

The leading man pondered for a moment and nodded: "Okay, we will do as you planned. But you'd better make sure you don't make a wrong bet."

"Of course." Abel turned around with a confident smile on his face. "As for those who try to test the waters, I will use their curiosity to open up a bigger market. After all, curiosity always kills the cat."

At the same time, the police investigation team is busy digging for clues about Abel's background. However, the clear clues on the surface gradually lead to a complicated dark line, and every step seems to be carefully planned.

The police officer who took away the feather crown was staring at the complicated instrument readings and whispered to himself: "This thing is definitely not simple. It seems to need to be combined with other items... What is it hiding?"

Inside the house, Abel picked up his teacup and looked out the window at the darkening street, as if everything was under control. He whispered to himself, "The water has been stirred, and the fish will fall into the trap."

The curling tea mist was floating in the dim light, adding a bit of mystery and haziness to the room. Abel put down the teacup, turned back to the table, and when he sat down, his expression had completely regained the calmness and composure that a shrewd businessman usually has.

"Now is the most critical moment," Abel said slowly, with a hint of oppression in his tone, "We don't need to rush. The spread of rumors and the involvement of the police are double insurance. Their curiosity has been aroused, but the real key is who will show up behind the scenes - whether trying to keep them silent or trying to get the secret of the feather crown."

The leading man nodded slightly, but his eyes were still alert. "Those who are interested will obviously not show up easily, especially the old foxes in the East District. They may use this trap of yours to test your background."

"I understand," Abel nodded with a meaningful smile, "but the more they try, the more they will be attracted by the truth and falsehood in this game. A truly smart hunter will not tear off the disguise directly, but try to use others to do it. This is exactly the effect I want."

He paused, lowered his head and played with the teacup on the table, as if thinking about something, then raised his head again: "However, this does not mean that we can be careless. I have arranged another 'bait'. Once they are lured here, they will find that the problem is far more complicated than they imagined."

The man sitting opposite Abel finally spoke, his voice still low and cautious: "You deliberately let the feather crown be taken away by the police. It can indeed attract the attention of the outside world, but what if they really investigate some of your secrets? For example, other things in the trading house that should not be exposed."

Abel laughed loudly upon hearing this, but his smile was a little cold. "They can investigate, and even suspect me, but the fact is - if the police want to find evidence against me, they will only find an ordinary businessman, at most a 'dangerous person' who likes to tell stories and create gimmicks. The real secret has long been hidden somewhere they can't reach."

As he spoke, he picked up the teacup and took a sip. His tone became more relaxed. "Besides, the people in the police station are not fools. They are targeting the feather crown more to track down the involvement behind it, rather than a small businessman like me. The police station has limited resources, and they will not focus all their attention on me."Chapter 172 FermentationTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2358 wordsUpdate time: 2024-11-26 17:30:07

Abel put down his teacup, tapped the table with his fingertips, and looked at the people in the room, as if examining their reactions. He spoke slowly, his voice steady but stern: "The key is that we should not become the center of the conflict. The feather crown is just bait, and the real prey will reveal itself. And the police station - their attention will be attracted by the illusion I carefully arranged."

The leading man frowned, his voice full of doubt. "The illusion is wonderful, but the more complicated the situation, the greater the risk of being exposed. If the police or others discover something they shouldn't, our situation may become even worse."

Abel smiled calmly, fiddling with the pocket watch chain with his fingertips, and the metal made a crisp sound. His eyes were calm and confident: "Of course there are risks, but we have already taken the initiative. The real secret has been well hidden. Even if the police try their best, they will only get some ambiguous clues."

As he spoke, he turned his gaze to the mist outside the window, his tone calm and precise: "What's more, the people in the police station are the easiest pawns to be manipulated. What they need is enough reasons to act, and I can give them the reasons they need."

The third person sitting next to him was silent for a long time, and suddenly asked, "Are you so sure that no one can see through your plan?"

Abel turned his head to look at him, his eyes were deep, but his tone was still calm: "Seeing through is not important. What's important is that they thought they saw through it, but they can't verify whether it is true or not. And even if someone noticed it, would they dare to confront me directly? Without sufficient evidence, they can only continue to observe, and the process of observation will only expose more flaws for them."

He gently closed the pocket watch in his hand, and glanced at the few people again, his tone revealing unquestionable authority: "Our goal is clear. The rumors should be more true and false. This will make those who try to test the waters contradict themselves. At the same time, we must focus the attention of the East District on the feather crown, not the trade house."

The leading man pondered for a moment, then nodded, his expression slightly relaxed. "It seems that we can still control the situation. But what if someone tries to bypass this and attack you or us directly?"

Abel chuckled when he heard this, with a hint of coldness in his tone: "I never fight a battle without preparation. If anyone dares to provoke me, let them see what it means to kill a chicken to scare the monkey."

His fingers tapped the cover of the pocket watch lightly, making a rhythmic sound, as if he was silently hammering out something. The atmosphere in the room gradually became solemn with the tapping sound, and the expressions of several people revealed complicated thoughts.

"Don't worry, everyone." Abel stood up and swept his eyes across everyone with a firm gaze. "As long as we act according to the plan, the final result will not disappoint you. The chessboard has been set. Now, it depends on who can be more patient."

He turned and walked to the window, put his hands in his windbreaker pockets, and whispered: "Those people outside, whether they are greedy, suspicious, or waiting for an opportunity, will gradually reveal their flaws over time. And we just need to wait for the most appropriate time and strike a fatal blow."

The street outside the window was shrouded in thick fog, and the dim lights flickered faintly, reflecting the vague outlines of people and carriages. Abel's eyes penetrated the fog and seemed to see those figures hiding in the dark and their final fate.

"The water has been stirred, and the fish are beginning to test the depth." He whispered to himself with a meaningful smile on his face, "Next, it's time for us to cast our nets."

Suddenly, a long bell rang from a distance. The low tone penetrated the fog, as if reminding the passage of time. Abel looked up at the clock, his eyes revealing a hint of deep meaning: "It's almost time. What we need next is more definite action."

He turned around, his eyes fell on several people, and his tone was calm: "First, we must add fuel to the rumors. The origin of the feather crown, its 'curse', and even the old stories of the town of Greenwell - the more confusing the better. People in the East District love to chase these bizarre stories. Second, keep a close eye on the actions of the police station. If they make any new discoveries, notify me immediately. We must ensure that their attention will not be diverted to other places."

The leading man nodded, and Abel continued, "Finally, and most importantly," Abel lowered his voice, his eyes sharp, "find those who are truly interested. Whether they are out of curiosity or have other purposes, their actions will reveal a lot. What we need is to take the initiative."

There was silence in the room. Several people exchanged glances. Finally, the leading man spoke: "Okay, we will act according to the plan. However, there is one thing - if the situation becomes uncontrollable, Abel, you must give us a way out."

Abel smiled slightly, his tone relaxed but with unquestionable strength: "Don't worry, the retreat has been prepared. If things develop to the point where they cannot be handled, I will not let you bear the consequences."

He straightened his collar and regained his usual calm expression: "However, I believe that this game will go as I expected, and the final winner will be us."

After saying this, he turned and walked towards the window again, fiddling with his pocket watch, his eyes looking through the fog at the brightly lit street.

"The brighter the light, the deeper the shadows." Abel whispered to himself, "Let those people indulge in their own shadows. When they come to their senses, the situation on the chessboard has already been reshuffled. Everything will continue to ferment with time."

At the same time, the investigation team in the police station was still busy. The technician frowned and pondered the complex data: "Although the composition of this thing is ordinary, it seems to contain some kind of energy field that cannot be analyzed... Perhaps, it is not just an antique."

Far away in the black market, a middle-aged man in a long windbreaker was putting a small amulet into his pocket. He whispered to himself, his tone cold: "The feather crown has appeared in the world, and the clues have finally surfaced. No matter what, I must get it... even if I have to sacrifice some 'chess pieces' for it."

The fog is getting thicker, the undercurrent is surging, and the forces of all parties are gradually converging. It seems that an inevitable conflict is approaching. Abel's plan is like a taut string, waiting for the most appropriate time to pluck it.

Abel's trading company has obviously become the focus of the East District. The number of customers coming in and out has increased significantly in recent days. Although the clerk dared not say much, the atmosphere of uneasiness gradually spread. He had tentatively mentioned it to Abel several times, implicitly expressing his concerns about this situation.

"Sir, the customers who have been coming into the store lately are a little strange... They seem to be selecting items, but their words and actions always make people feel like they are investigating something."

Abel put the pocket watch in his pocket and looked up at the clerk with his usual calm smile on his face: "Their investigation will only increase our mystery. You just need to do your job well, and don't worry about the rest."

The clerk hesitated for a moment and couldn't help but speak: "But sir, if some of these people have bad intentions and even want to make trouble, what should we do?"

Abel's eyes were calm, and his voice was steady but revealed an unquestionable power: "Remember, we are businessmen. We treat everyone who enters the store equally and provide the same service. As for their purpose or motivation, it doesn't matter."

Seeing that the clerk was still worried, he added: "The fact that they chose this method shows that they will not act rashly in public."

The clerk seemed to be infected by Abel's calmness and nodded, but still couldn't help whispering: "Sir, if their temptation goes further, do we need to take some precautions?"Chapter 173 TestTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2326 wordsUpdate time: 2024-11-27 17:30:06

Abel smiled slightly, his tone calm and steady: "The defenses have already been arranged. Don't worry, their every move is under my control. The more you test, the more flaws they will expose."

The clerk stood there, his eyes full of confusion. He didn't fully understand what he heard, but he could sense an unquestionable confidence from Abel's expression. He didn't dare to ask more questions because of his calmness and determination, so he could only nod silently, but there were still doubts in his heart that could not be dispelled.

Abel looked at the clerk with deep eyes and continued in a low voice: "You just need to do your job well. The operation of the store is under your control. I will make sure everything goes smoothly behind the scenes." He paused, and his tone became gentler, but with an irrefutable firmness, "Your task is to maintain the appearance, and leave the rest to me."

The clerk lowered his head again and nervously sorted the shelves. He didn't understand the deep meaning of Abel's words, but he knew that he needed to follow the routine and didn't need to ask about other things. Although the atmosphere around him made him a little uneasy, Abel's calmness and authority made him unable to question it.

Abel slowly turned around and walked to the window, his eyes penetrating the fog and staring at the vaguely visible street in the distance. Outside was still the familiar street, with the occasional sound of carriages and pedestrians, as if everything was normal. But Abel knew in his heart that every moment was changing, and every step was fraught with unknown risks.

"We are all waiting for the right time." He whispered, almost to himself, "They thought they could continue to hide, but everything will be revealed in the end." He turned to look at the clerk, his voice became firm again, "Keep preparing, business tonight will have unusual progress."

The clerk nodded, still confused. The strange atmosphere made him uneasy, as if time had become heavy and stagnant under some invisible pressure. However, he could only continue to work according to Abel's instructions and not ask about other things.

Abel turned around and walked back to the table, looking down at the piece of paper. It was still mysterious, with symbols and numbers intertwined into some unreadable pattern. Abel did not tell the clerk that the piece of paper carried not only his own plan, but also a deeper secret that no one knew. And this secret, the clerk would not know until the last moment.

The fog outside the window grew thicker, and the outlines of the street gradually blurred. Abel squinted his eyes and smiled slightly, as if he had foreseen everything that was to come.

"Their test has finally begun." He whispered to himself with a sneer in his eyes.

The clerk did not hear the whisper, he was still concentrating on the work at hand. The oppressive feeling in the air became more and more intense, as if a storm was coming, and he had no idea that he was quietly being involved in a silent game.

As night fell, thick fog enveloped the city again. The lights on the streets were swallowed by the fog and looked particularly dim. There was a certain tension in the atmosphere, as if a storm was quietly approaching.

A black carriage stopped at a street corner not far from Abel's trading house. The atmosphere inside the carriage was extremely solemn. Several members in robes were discussing the next action in a low voice. Their eyes were sharp and their movements were cautious. It was obvious that this was not the first time they had carried out such a mission.

One of the members, named Tal, had a stern face and an unfathomable light in his eyes. He took out a complex instrument from his arms, which was inlaid with strange symbols and metal parts, exuding an ancient and mysterious atmosphere.

Tal's voice was low and threatening, without a trace of warmth in his tone: "We first need to confirm whether it is in the Trade House."

The companions beside him remained silent. They knew that rash actions would only attract the attention of the police. It would be best to confirm the target's location through special means. The instruments in their hands could sense the presence of the feather crown.

Tal took out a part from the instrument and gently rotated it. The instrument emitted a low humming sound. Then he put the part in his pocket and said, "We have a part of it. It can sense other parts of the feather crown. As long as we get close to the trade house, it will tell us the answer."

A member nodded. "The induction between these parts can penetrate obstacles. Even if the trading house is well hidden, we can accurately locate it through this induction."

Tal's eyes were grim, and the corners of his mouth rose slightly. "I hope they think they can hide the real feather crown here from the police, hidden in this trading house." He sneered, "But as long as the induction of this instrument is activated, any hiding will be meaningless, and God's will will reveal everything."

He checked his instruments again to make sure nothing was missing. Then he pointed to the trading house outside the window and said, "Tonight, no matter what, everything will be in the arms of the great spirit."

At the same time, Abel still stood in front of the window, his eyes penetrating the fog and locking onto the movements on the street. His eyes were as sharp as a knife, penetrating through the layers of fog and sensing something was wrong.

He did not rush to act, but tapped the pocket watch on the table gently, as if waiting for a certain moment. The clerk was still busy, completely unaware of all the undercurrents going on outside.

Suddenly, Abel felt a wave of fluctuations from the outside world and tightened his gaze slightly. This was not a change in the weather, nor was it an ordinary disturbance, but a fluctuation of supernatural power that he was familiar with. He knew that this feeling meant that someone had begun to take action and was quietly approaching.

He gently pushed open the window, and a breeze blew past, and the hem of his windbreaker fluttered in the wind, bringing a hint of coolness. The moonlight was looming in the thick fog, and the whole city seemed to be shrouded in an indescribable atmosphere.

"Here it comes." Abel whispered to himself, a cruel smile on his face. "I've finally been waiting for this."

As time went by, the members were gradually shrouded in confusion. The sensing equipment was activated again and again, but it always gave a cold feedback of "no abnormality". The humming sound of the instrument became harsh, as if mocking their incompetence. Although they kept adjusting the sensitivity, switching to different frequencies, and even trying more complex detection methods, the traces of the feather crown seemed to have disappeared, and nothing was found.

The fog was getting thicker, and the atmosphere in the car was becoming more oppressive. Tal held the instrument tightly, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force, and his eyes were fixed in the direction of the trading house, as if he wanted to see through it. An inexplicable irritability and uneasiness gradually rose in his heart, and everything seemed to be developing in the direction he least wanted to face.

"This is impossible." He muttered in a low voice, his tone revealing reluctance and anger, "The scent of the feather crown cannot be completely concealed, unless..." He paused and murmured, "Unless it is not here at all."

Another member looked up and cautiously suggested, "Perhaps this trading house is just a smokescreen. Or, the item has been moved by them."

Tal turned around and stared at him coldly, his eyes as piercing as ice. He said in a deep voice: "If they really have the ability to move, they wouldn't leave such obvious clues for us to track here. This doesn't make sense."

The carriage fell into a brief silence, with only the faint hum of instruments echoing in the air.

Finally, Tal took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind. He spoke slowly, his voice low and cold: "We have to face the worst... Maybe, this is just an ordinary person." His words were full of reluctance and anger, as if he was suppressing an inner torment, "An ordinary person with good luck, got a gift from the gods, but didn't give it to the right person."Chapter 174 The Game BeginsTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2277 wordsUpdate time: 2024-11-28 17:30:03

Tal's eyes were fixed on the store in front of him. The fog filled the street like a twisted veil, blurring the outlines in the window. His hands unconsciously grasped the hem of his robe, as if this could slightly ease the anger boiling in his heart. His brows were deeply furrowed, and his eyes were full of anxiety and coldness. However, he knew that he must not let his emotions influence his judgment today.

This is definitely not the time to take drastic action. If they act rashly, it may not only attract the attention of the police, but also escalate the situation and cause unnecessary interference. For them, this situation is unbearable, especially when they do not have full information.

Tal's mind worked at lightning speed, and gradually a more difficult hypothesis emerged - the feather crown might not be in the store at all, but in the hands of the police.

This thought made him feel cold. Recalling the original intelligence, the businessman accidentally obtained this gift from the gods, and in order to resell it, he tied it to a series of bizarre events, which eventually attracted the attention of the police. As the investigation deepened, the item was considered a "dangerous item" and was seized.

Tal's frown deepened, as if these clues were piecing together a vague but dangerous picture. If the feather crown really fell into the hands of the police, their next move would undoubtedly be more difficult. The police were not only the authority of the ordinary world, but also a powerful force in the extraordinary world. If they confronted them rashly, it would inevitably trigger a huge chain reaction, and might even affect the core plan of the cult.

He took a deep breath, suppressing his inner anxiety. His low but intimidating voice echoed in the car: "If the feather crown is indeed in the hands of the police, we don't have much time. Once someone discovers its abnormality, the situation will become more complicated and even beyond our control."

The atmosphere in the carriage was stagnant for a moment, with only the faint humming sound of the rune instrument. A member spoke cautiously, "According to the previous plan, we can go to the vicinity of the police station. With the help of the ritual array on the carriage to cover up the slight fluctuations, you can still use the 'instrument' to confirm whether it is there without being discovered by the police Beyonders."

Tal turned his head slightly, his eyes like a knife blade sweeping towards the member. He knew this was not the best option, but it was perhaps the only way to avoid a direct conflict at the moment. He pondered for a moment, and asked in a cold tone: "How stable is the magic circle? In the worst case scenario, how much time do we have?"

The member hesitated for a moment, but quickly replied, "We are limited in our ability. With the current materials, the effect can only last for three minutes at most. During this time, we must ensure that the carriage runs normally, otherwise it will likely attract the attention of the police."

Tal nodded coldly, but his eyes became more profound. He quickly calculated various possible variables and coping strategies in his mind. Three minutes was too short to allow any mistakes, but if he could confirm the whereabouts of the feather crown, it would be worth the risk.

"Very good," Tal said with an unquestionable determination, "We will act according to the plan. I only need three minutes to ensure the stable operation of the magic circle - three minutes is enough." He swept his eyes over everyone in the car, as if giving them the final confirmation, "At the same time, prepare a second response plan. If the situation gets out of control, immediately activate the predetermined retreat route. If necessary, you can make sacrifices for the gods. Don't draw the police's attention to the sacrificial crown."

"Understood." The members in the car responded in a low voice and quickly split up to act. Their hands moved quickly, adjusting the parameters of the formation and recording the backup plan.

Tal leaned against the side of the carriage, looking out the window at the foggy streets of the East District. His eyes were no longer just cold and stern, but contained a hint of imperceptible caution and consideration.

"As long as we confirm the location of the feather crown, we can formulate the next plan." Tal thought to himself, and then sneered, "The police are just mortals after all. Even if they touch the extraordinary, they are just playing with fire. They don't understand how dangerous they are in their hands."

The wheels of the carriage rolled over the wet cobblestone road, making a low sound and gradually moving towards the target.

Meanwhile, Abel was still sitting quietly in the office of the trading house. He stood up thoughtfully, walked to the window, and stared at the foggy streets outside. He had long been aware of the movements of the Spiritual Cult, and secretly expected that their investigation would enter the next stage.

Abel's mouth curled up into a sneer, with a playful and confident look in his eyes. The feather crown ornament never really appeared. The trade was just a gadget he used the emperor to make - an extraordinary item called "Dora's Pocket", a replica made with the help of the pale mask. The extraordinary fluctuations of this replica can only last for a month at most.

"You are destined to go astray." Abel whispered to himself, with a hint of light flashing in his eyes. He raised his hand and gently fiddled with the pocket watch in his hand, as if waiting for the right time.

He knew that the Spiritual Cult had begun to suspect that the feather crown might have been seized by the police, but this was just a trap he had set. Both the police investigation and the Spiritual Cult's pursuit were carefully planned by him.

"Go on," Abel said with a sneer on his face, "Every step you take is under my control."

Outside, the fog was still thick, covering the streets of the East District, and everything seemed to be still in the haze. However, under the undercurrent of this city, the gears of fate had quietly turned, and a new chess game had begun in an unknown corner.

The next day, the early morning sun tried to penetrate the thick fog, but it was still weak. The atmosphere of the trading house returned to its superficial calm, and those special guests with different purposes no longer frequented it, as if all the anxiety had dissipated.

Abel sat in his office, his fingertips lightly touching his pocket watch, a hint of smile flashing in his eyes. At this moment, he knew that the attention of the Spiritual Cult had shifted from the trading house to a more difficult direction.

"As expected, they changed their target." He whispered to himself, with a cold look in his eyes. "However, this is just the beginning. The real game has just begun."

Outside the trading house, the fog still lingered, covering the streets of the East District. The flow of people on the street gradually returned to its usual routine, and the sound of carriage wheels and pedestrians' brisk footsteps filled the air again. Occasionally, a familiar figure flashed past, but no one stopped or explored. Their traces dissipated like the ebb tide, leaving only a few imperceptible traces in the aftermath of yesterday, as if the tense confrontation had never really happened.

However, Abel knew that this calm was only a temporary illusion, and could even be the beginning of the next wave of turmoil. The pocket watch in his hand made a subtle "ticking" sound, and the pointer moved slowly on the dial. In his eyes, the passage of time was not only a natural advancement, but also an invisible force that summoned the arrival of crisis.

"The game has begun." Abel whispered to himself, with a hint of calm certainty and a hint of expectation in his voice. He stood up, put the pocket watch in his pocket gracefully, and walked to the window.

Then, he opened the window, and the mist poured into the room like an invisible tide, bringing with it the damp and cold air that is unique to the East District. He stood in front of the window, staring at the street scene shrouded in mist, his eyes deep.Chapter 175 Familiar StreetTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2154 wordsUpdate time: 2024-11-30 14:44:38

On the surface, everything in the East District was normal. The streets were bustling with people, the hawking in the shops was endless, and the steam from the factories filled the air. It seemed as if things had returned to normal. However, Abel knew that in the shadows that were not illuminated by the sun, undercurrents were surging. A new chess game had been set, and it was only waiting for the first piece to be pushed.

Apparently, this time the turmoil did not make him wait too long.

Just one day later, he received a meaningful intelligence. This intelligence was passed on by an insider in the trading house and was cleverly sandwiched in a routine material list. At first glance, it was no different from an ordinary report, but the hidden details in it made Abel's eyes linger for a long time. He tapped the table lightly with his fingertips, and a meaningful smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

"Sure enough, they started to act." He muttered to himself, his low voice carrying a hint of coldness, yet also seemed to be mixed with a bit of excitement.

The intelligence mentioned that an inconspicuous transport team arrived at a remote warehouse in the East District late last night, and the location of the warehouse happened to be close to a secret evidence storage point of the police. What is even more interesting is that this transport team does not belong to any known trade network, the identity of the members is unclear, the cargo list has no detailed records, and even the consignee seems to be deliberately vague.

Abel stared at the words on the report with deep eyes, as if trying to catch the truth behind these cold words. His experience told him that this was not an ordinary cargo transportation, but more like a deliberate secret transaction. Moreover, all of this was deliberately "leaked", as if they were eager to let the police know.

"They couldn't hold back after all." Abel whispered, slowly closing the file with his slender fingers. He knew that there were bigger purposes behind this action, and these purposes would undoubtedly be opportunities he could use next.

Standing up, he walked to the window and pushed it open. Mist mixed with damp cold wind blew in his face. He took a deep breath of the air filled with smoke and mildew, and his eyes penetrated the thick fog, staring at the hazy street scene of Backlund. In his eyes, the fate of this city seemed to have begun to change subtly.

"Then let me see what kind of future this first step in the game of chess will lead to." Abel chuckled, with a dangerous light flashing in his eyes.

Outside the window, the fog was so thick that it looked like a gray curtain, covering the busy streets of Backlund with an illusory and quiet atmosphere. The noise and tranquility on the streets were intertwined, and the sound of steam from factories, the cries of vendors, and the occasional rumble of horse-drawn carriages together formed the daily background of this city. However, beneath this calm appearance, an inevitable storm was quietly brewing.

Abel stood by the window, thinking for a moment, then turned around, his steps calm and firm. He walked past the familiar account books, pocket watches, and the secrets hidden deep in the trading house, as if he had left everything behind. In the past, every move he made was calculated with extreme precision, but now, he chose to temporarily leave the chess game, leaving the next stage to those ambitious chess players.

"Henry, the store is left to you." Abel said to the clerk before leaving.

"No problem, Mr. Klein." Henry agreed immediately. Although he lowered his head, he couldn't help but glance at Abel. He always felt that every decision made by Mr. Abel was full of meaning, but he never had the opportunity to really explore it.

Abel walked out of the trading house and felt the cold wind and damp mist blowing in his face. The noise on the street sounded particularly dull at this moment, and the thick fog almost blocked his way forward. However, his steps were still steady, because every step was carefully considered.

His eyes swept across the surrounding streets and pedestrians, seemingly carelessly, but he was secretly calculating the deeper situation in his heart. Last night's intelligence was just the beginning, and the undercurrent hidden deep in Backlund finally began to show a crack.

As he was walking aimlessly, a familiar street corner came into view. He stopped and looked up at the familiar cobblestone road and the mottled graffiti on the corner. This was the place where his past identity disappeared, and it was also the entrance to his secret world.

"Fate has finally brought me back here." He whispered to himself, his eyes complicated, filled with both reminiscence and scrutiny.

Abel slowly lowered his head, his eyes falling on his outstretched right hand. That hand was slender and unfamiliar, as if it did not belong to him. It was no longer the hand of the leisurely noble, but a new form given by the "Transformation Belt". The change flowed through his fingertips, the cold and hard touch and abnormal power made him feel uncomfortable, as if he was covered with a thin layer of armor, covering up his former true self and restricting his flexible movements.

His hands trembled slightly, as if sensing some subtle changes, or as if refusing to accept the inevitable fact. The strange feeling spread from his palms, as if devouring his understanding of his own identity, peeling away his past bit by bit.

Abel raised a sarcastic smile, and a hint of self-mockery flashed in his eyes. There was no joy in his smile, only a cold, almost sarcastic meaning, as if he was mocking fate and himself. His fingers gently closed and spread out, the movements were somewhat mechanical and weak, as if he wanted to grasp something, but knew that he could not leave any trace.

"I am now..." he whispered, his voice low and hoarse, with an indescribable feeling in his tone, "I can hardly recognize myself anymore."

He closed his eyes and let the heavy feeling of strangeness surge into his heart. No matter what happened in the past, he was no longer the original Greylint, nor was he the Jiang Yang who had long been in his memory. Those once vivid images were now like watercolors washed by rain, gradually fading, blurring, and losing their clear outlines. The giant hand of fate wiped out everything, and the former self gradually dissipated in this unpredictable fog and could no longer be recognized.

He knew that all these changes were not his own choice. Every step and every decision seemed to be guided by some invisible force. Fate tailored a turning point for him, giving him a new identity and role - a man who was far away from the past and became the man he is now. Perhaps all this was not accidental, but a destined trajectory that he had already unconsciously stepped into, and this trajectory could no longer be turned back.

Abel's eyes could not help but subconsciously fall on the changes in his right hand. The strange power and cold touch seemed to be an abandonment and replacement of his past. And the beginning of all this may have originated from the belt he chose to wear without hesitation, the bondage that pulled him into this inescapable game. It was at that moment that his fate was rewritten, and another brand-new identity began to occupy his original existence.

"From that moment on, there was no going back." He whispered to himself, his voice filled with deep sadness, but also a little relief.Chapter 176 Detective MillsTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2364 wordsUpdate time: 2024-11-30 17:30:09

Abel stood at the entrance of the street. The night was as dark as ink, and his figure melted into the thick fog. He stared far ahead, his eyes seemed to have no focus, immersed in some unspeakable emptiness. The surrounding noise and the roar of steam gradually faded away, leaving only the damp smell in the wind and the oppressive feeling of silence. He did not move for a long time, as if he was swallowed by the shadow and mist of the city, and the uneasiness in his heart condensed into an invisible pressure with the night.

His steps hesitated, and an indescribable emotion quietly rose up. Was it nostalgia? Fear? Or some kind of deep loneliness? He didn't know. He didn't even understand what he was waiting for - perhaps an answer, perhaps a chance to get rid of everything, a chance to end this journey of no return.

At the end of the street, the lights gradually dimmed, and the shop signs went out one by one. This familiar street seemed particularly strange at this moment. In Abel's eyes, everything seemed to be covered with a gray veil, both real and illusory. Time was passing, but he seemed to be stagnant.

He looked down at his hand, which had become unfamiliar because of the belt, with an uneasy feeling, as if reminding him that he could never go back to the past. He sighed deeply, and the heaviness in his heart became more obvious. The street in front of him was familiar to him, but it was full of strange barriers. He began to feel that he had been trapped in this city, like a fly trapped in the fog, and no matter how hard he struggled, he could not escape.

"It's time to go." He whispered to himself, with a hint of helplessness and determination in his tone. Abel turned around gently and finally began to move forward.

However, just as he was about to turn around and leave, he heard an inopportune sound of footsteps at the end of the street. The footsteps were full of urgency and accompanied by a faint threat, breaking the silence of the night. Abel frowned slightly, paused, and became alert in an instant.

He quickly slipped aside, hiding in the shadows, and his back gradually disappeared into the thick fog. The air was filled with the smell of steam and rust, and the shadows and mist around him intertwined into an impenetrable curtain.

Abel's ears were strained, and he concentrated on sensing every detail of the outside world. The footsteps were getting closer and closer, with a rhythm that could not be ignored, as if foreshadowing some inevitable conflict. The shadows in the mist gradually condensed into shape, and the owner of the footsteps walked straight towards Abel's hiding place without any hesitation.

Abel's heartbeat began to speed up. His back was pressed against the cold brick wall. He could almost feel the dampness coming from the wall. Every breath he took was accompanied by a faint steam. The tension in the air gradually increased, as if everything around him was oppressing him. The situation before him was completely beyond his expectations, and there seemed to be no shelter on this street that he could rely on. He no longer dared to act rashly. He was fully alert and prepared for the confrontation that was about to happen.

The footsteps were getting closer and closer, and every step was approaching his psychological defense. The man seemed to be deliberately slowing down his pace, like a hunter closely following his prey. Abel gripped the handle of the revolver, and the cold metal made him calm down a little. His eyes were fixed on the shadow in front of him, and his heart was beating like a drum.

He closed his eyes slightly, concentrating his mind, sensing the approaching breath. He was not unfamiliar with this person. Abel suddenly realized that the power and rhythm of the footsteps had a special rhythm. This was not the pace of an ordinary person. It was as if some well-trained shadow was approaching silently.

"Damn..." Abel whispered in his heart. He knew that this person was not a random passerby, but a purposeful person, maybe an enemy, or maybe his pursuer. And, the worst thing was that this person seemed to have discovered his trail a long time ago.

The fog became thicker and thicker, almost completely engulfing the view, and the world around him became blurry at this moment. However, the man's footsteps were still clear, and each step brought a huge sense of oppression, as if it could tear the air around him. Abel's thoughts flashed through his mind like lightning, and he moved back gently, his footsteps so light that they made almost no sound.

The mist in the air gradually became thicker and thicker, almost cutting through it, covering everything. Abel's eyes were always fixed on the shadow in front of him, and the man was approaching step by step. He knew that he could no longer move easily - neither to avoid exposing his specific location nor to make a decision.

He stretched out his right hand, and his fingers tightly grasped the handle of the revolver. The cold metal touch calmed him down a little. His eyes were still fixed on the shadow in front of him. The sound of his heartbeat became clearer in his ears, as if the whole world had become silent, with only the sound of footsteps and his own breathing echoing in the air. With each step closer, his mind became more focused, as if all the nerves in his body were tightened, ready to meet unforeseen conflicts at any time.

Suddenly, the man stopped and silence filled the air. Abel held his breath and listened attentively. Every slight change in the air could not escape his perception. The man's low voice sounded in the silence: "A little mouse who discovered something unusual. It seems that the Duke's speculation is correct. Grallint does have an accomplice."

Abel's heart suddenly trembled, and his fingers tightly grasped the handle of the revolver. The cold metal feeling made him regain some clarity. His voice was low and cold, with a hint of suppressed anger: "Who are you?"

The man walked out of the shadows slowly, his figure gradually emerging in the mist. Each step was steady and powerful, as if he was not afraid of any danger, and even ignored the threats around him. Abel's eyes were fixed on the man, and his alertness suddenly reached its peak. The man was wearing a dark coat, with a cold temperament, and his steps carried a sense of threat that could not be ignored. His presence seemed to make the temperature around him drop suddenly, and the cold air made every nerve of Abel tense.

The man raised his chin slightly, with a smile on his lips, and a hint of provocation in his eyes: "As an accomplice of Greylint, you should recognize me, right?"

Abel's heartbeat suddenly accelerated, and a flash of thought flashed through his mind. His brows were tightly furrowed, and that familiar breath and tone, like a cold blade, pierced into the depths of his memory. He had felt the oppressive feeling emanating from that person before, and now, this oppressive feeling became more real, as if some twist of fate was approaching him.

Abel's heart suddenly sank, as if he was hit hard by a cold force, and the oppression in his chest made it almost impossible for him to breathe. His thoughts quickly went back - at that time, he disguised himself as Sherlock Holmes, took over many commissions with that identity, and had many contacts with this person. In every conversation and every action, he felt that he had mastered everything, controlled every detail, and acted with ease. That confidence made him believe that he was smarter than anyone else. But at this moment, he suddenly realized that perhaps from the beginning, his so-called "disguise" was just an elaborate illusion, and he had been deceiving himself without knowing it - in the eyes of others, he was just a clown performing clumsily on the stage, doing some futile tricks.

That memory was like a cold thorn that pierced Abel's heart and instantly calmed him down from the inside out. The chill spread along his spine, as if even his blood had frozen. As the man gradually walked out of the shadows, Abel suddenly realized that the man in front of him was the one he had ignored during his disguise - Detective Mills, a person he had thought was just someone he had occasionally passed by.

"Are you...Detective Mills?"Chapter 177 BattleTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2262 wordsUpdate time: 2024-12-01 17:30:03

Detective Mills smiled slightly, his eyes flashing with a cold light, and walked steadily without hesitation. "It seems that the Duke's judgment is correct. Today, we really caught a big fish." His tone was calm, but like a sharp blade, carrying an invisible threat. Before he finished speaking, he paused for a moment, as if savoring the sweetness of some kind of victory, "It's worth waiting patiently for more than a month."

He walked slowly towards Abel, his steps light, each step carrying a sense of oppression, as if he had foreseen the outcome. His calm demeanor made Abel feel an invisible oppression, as if the balance of victory had tilted.

Abel's heartbeat suddenly accelerated. He took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. But the air around him was heavy, like an invisible net, tightly binding him. He felt Mills' cold gaze, as if it was tearing the defenses in his heart every second. Every word of Mills was full of deep irony. Abel realized that he had completely fallen into the other party's control.

Abel remained calm, raised his head and looked at her, a faint smile on his face. "It seems that the Duke has indeed given you a lot of trust, which makes you so confident."

Mills stopped, the smile on his lips faded slightly, but the coldness in his eyes became more fierce. "You are calm." He said, with admiration in his tone, but the coldness was like ice. "However, calmness cannot change the facts. Do you think you can still escape?"

Abel smiled slightly, his eyes became deep, as if hiding some undetectable secret. "Escape?" He chuckled and looked around at the empty streets and silent stone walls, as if he had seen through every detail of the environment. "Detective Mills, you are wrong." His tone suddenly became calm, as if lifting a veil, "You thought you were in control of the situation, but in fact, you have already fallen into the trap I set." His low and powerful voice was like a hidden warning, "Do you think we are unprepared for such an important place?"

Mills's expression changed slightly, and the coldness in his eyes fluctuated slightly. Abel's confidence and calmness made him feel a little uneasy. At that moment, the air seemed to have changed, and the oppressive atmosphere suddenly intensified. But Mills quickly regained his composure, and a sneer appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Mills's eyes became sharper, and he whispered, "I was almost fooled by you." There was a hint of anger and alertness in his tone, "This place has been confirmed by the Earl. Your so-called 'preparation' is nothing but in vain."

Abel lowered his head, the smile on his lips had not faded, as if isolating the tense atmosphere. His eyes were still calm and deep, as if everything was under his control. Every word and every action of Mills seemed insignificant in his eyes.

There was a subtle atmosphere in the air, as if time had stopped at this moment, leaving only the two people breathing and staring at each other. Mills' words were like a sharp blade passing through Abel's ears, but he did not waver. Instead, his eyes became deeper, as if he had foreseen every step that would follow.

"The battle is about to begin." Abel whispered in his heart. All doubts and anxieties had disappeared, replaced by deep confidence and determination. He was no longer an outsider in the shadows, but stood at the center of the game.

Mills' eyes were fixed on Abel, examining every subtle change in him. He realized that Abel was no longer the opponent who relied solely on words and strategies, but a hunter who was completely immersed in his own rhythm, calm, decisive, and fearless. At this moment, any words and provocations became meaningless. All psychological games were no longer important.

Everything can only be decided through fighting.

Abel did not look at Mills again, but slowly turned to the surrounding environment. He felt the subtle changes in the air, and the sounds around him gradually faded away, leaving only the indescribable sense of oppression between the two of them. The neon lights on the street revealed a hint of coldness in the fog, and the night silently blocked everything. He understood that there was no way out, and every moment before him was a duel.

Mills never looked away, ready to strike at any moment. The air seemed to freeze, and the world stopped at that moment. Abel took a deep breath, feeling the tension in every nerve and muscle in his body. The breath of battle spread, and the heartbeat and footsteps began to synchronize, and every movement had been precisely calculated in silence.

Finally, Mills's hand moved slightly and he quickly pulled out the revolver from his waist. His movements were swift and sharp, as if he had already calculated Abel's reaction.

Abel's eyes instantly focused, and his heartbeat almost stopped. His fingers lightly touched the revolver, and he sensed the coming conflict, and his nerves instantly tensed up. At this moment, a clear voice rang out from Mills: "Reality here is enhanced, and the extraordinary is weakened."

Abel frowned slightly, and although he was ready for the challenge, this statement forced him to adjust his strategy.

Mills' revolver flashed coldly, and the bullet almost broke through the air before Abel could react. Abel's heartbeat suddenly accelerated, but he had already noticed Mills' intention. Mills's movements were swift and accurate, but they revealed a pattern: after each shot, he would take a step back slightly to ensure his stable position. This was Mills' habit, part of a psychological tactic - by controlling the distance, he could maintain the initiative in the attack.

Abel's eyes flickered slightly at the sound of the gunshot, as if time slowed down in his eyes. He knew that if he continued to fight with Mills, he would probably be forced into a dead end, or even killed in one shot. So, he stopped hesitating, quickly lowered his body, hid behind a damaged wall, and used the remaining buildings as cover.

This is a game of intelligence and reaction, and any negligence will cost life.

Mills followed closely behind. As soon as the gunshot fell, he quickly retreated, his steps steady and fast, obviously reassessing Abel's position. Every step was precise, as if he had foreseen Abel's reaction. He aimed the revolver again, ready to fire the second shot. However, this time, he did not fire immediately, but paused slightly, his sharp eyes scanning the surrounding environment, as if waiting for Abel to reveal a flaw.

Abel held his breath and quickly analyzed every subtle movement of Mills in his mind. He knew that once he showed the slightest flaw, Mills' sharp eyes would quickly lock onto his weakness like a knife. He noticed that Mills was not in a hurry to attack, but was deliberately creating gaps, as if deliberately luring him to show his head. This deliberate delay was not only testing his patience, but also preparing for a deeper trap.

The cold wind blew in from the other end of the street, carrying a little bit of fine sand, and the air was filled with a cold omen. Abel narrowed his eyes slightly, alertly sensing the changes around him. Mills' confidence was obvious. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to end the duel. Instead, he seemed to be playing cat and mouse, patiently waiting for his chance.

Abel's mind raced, and his consciousness gradually became clear. Suddenly, a flash of realization flashed in his eyes. At that moment, all the details and Mills' behavior began to piece together a more terrifying truth.

Mills's action was not an unconscious delay, but a deliberate one. He was not waiting for himself to show up, but paving the way for some changes that had not yet appeared. He was obviously waiting for a critical moment to come - and that moment was the appearance of his accomplice.Chapter 178: One StrikeTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2201 wordsUpdate time: 2024-12-02 17:30:01

Abel was shocked, and a trace of calm alert flashed through his mind. Mills's relaxed demeanor, calm attitude, and chilling delay all pointed to a possibility he had never expected - he had already fallen into a carefully laid trap.

Instantly, Abel's eyes were as sharp as a knife, the air around him seemed to freeze, and the world around him became empty and silent. Every nerve was tense, and he realized that he had been trapped in a trap that had been set long ago, and he had to adjust his thinking and respond quickly. Simply relying on dodging or reacting was no longer effective, and he had to face this escalating situation with greater vigilance.

"Ah..." Abel sighed softly, knowing that the nature of the battle had changed. Wisdom and cleverness alone were no longer enough. What he needed was speed, decisiveness, and unparalleled insight. Mills, perhaps there was a bigger shadow behind him. Abel realized that this battle was a race against time.

He lowered his head, and the hand holding the revolver gradually became as steady as a rock, with cold fingertips, as if integrated with the familiar weapon. Every inch of muscle was tense, ready to explode at the next moment. Every fluctuation in the air seemed to remind him that the battle had gone beyond psychological games and entered an all-round duel of wisdom and action.

Abel took a deep breath, and his eyes became calmer and deeper. "Delay will only make the situation worse." He knew that any delay at this moment might come at a heavy price - there might be a deeper trap waiting for him behind Mills.

He knew that choosing to run away would mean a dead end. Mills was not only a skilled opponent, but also an experienced hunter. If he chose to escape, Mills would definitely force him into a more complicated corner, and the situation would become even more out of control.

Abel's eyes became as cold as iron. He had no way out. At this moment, every bit of his attention was focused on Mills. His eyes were as sharp as a knife, not letting go of any tiny flaws. The rhythm of the battle was controlled by him, and his decision did not allow for any hesitation.

"Dealing with him is the only way out." He whispered in his heart, his eyes penetrating everything, accurately locking onto every subtle movement of Mills. The sense of oppression in the air became stronger and stronger, time seemed to freeze, the world around them became illusory, and the only thing that existed was the game between the two of them.

Abel's figure instantly pounced on his prey like a cheetah, and every step was full of power and precision. He stared at Mills with his eyes, analyzing every movement, waiting for the right opportunity to act. Every second of change could determine fate.

There was a subtle tension in the air. Abel's mind became unusually clear. The sounds around him seemed to disappear. All that was left was Mills and the upcoming decisive battle. He was ready to make a decision that he could not turn back from.

Mills' eyes flashed with a hint of alertness, but he remained calm. He stepped back slightly, trying to distance himself from Abel. At this moment, Abel attacked without hesitation.

The muzzle of the revolver fired almost in sync with Abel's heartbeat, like thunder breaking the silence. The gunshot, with undisputed force, struck Mills' chest.

Mills's movements were delayed for a second, and he obviously had not expected Abel to counterattack at such a close distance. The sound of the gun had not completely dissipated, and Mills's sneer had not faded, but the pain had already hit him like a torrent.

In an instant, blood splattered, Mills' body was knocked back, fell on the hard stone slab, and lost his life.

However, at this moment, Abel also felt a severe burning sensation in his shoulder - although Mills' reaction was a step slower, he was still a well-trained opponent. Mills' revolver fired in time when Abel raised his gun, and the bullet pierced Abel's shoulder like lightning.

The severe pain almost made Abel lose his balance, but he did not hesitate. He clenched his teeth, endured the pain, and kept his eyes on Mills. The wound on his shoulder was bleeding rapidly, but he had no time to deal with it. He had to deal with the other party as soon as possible.

Mills' body was violently pushed back by the gunshot and fell to the ground. Abel knew that he could not give Mills any chance to fight back, nor could he give the "accomplices" lurking in the dark any chance to take advantage of him.

Although the pain slowed his movements, Abel still stepped forward and checked Mills' body, confirming that he was lifeless. Then, he began to simply treat his own wounds, blood still dripping, but he ignored it.

In just a few seconds, he quickly bandaged the wound. Although it could not stop the bleeding completely, at least he would not lose his ability to move.

Abel looked around. Although his arms felt heavy and the battle was over, he knew that the price of this victory was not only the physical pain, but also a deeper choice.

He stood up, put away his revolver, his eyes still sharp. Even though the pain made his steps heavy, he still walked forward, towards the unknown abyss, to continue this unfinished game.

Abel barely walked far, the pain still spreading in his shoulder, blood oozing out from time to time, dripping onto the slippery street. However, his steps were still firm, and his eyes were always vigilantly scanning the surroundings.

The shadows on the street were deep, and the dim gas lamps swayed in the weak wind, casting uneasy light and shadows. Although the battle had just ended, Abel's vigilance was even higher. He knew that Mills was just a part of this conspiracy, and the real challenge had just begun.

Suddenly, a slight sound of footsteps broke the silence. Abel did not turn around, but stopped and felt the flow of air. The sound was getting closer and closer, but there was no sign of breathing, as if some prey was approaching silently.

"Is Mills dead?" A low and calm voice came from the darkness, with a hint of teasing. The owner of the voice slowly walked out of the shadows. He was tall and slender, wearing a dark coat, with a hat brim pulled down low, covering his face. Only a pair of cold eyes were exposed, flashing a dangerous light.

Abel's eyes narrowed slightly, and he became alert instantly. He did not respond immediately, but slightly turned sideways and tightened his grip on the revolver to ensure that he could react quickly.

"It seems that you don't intend to let me leave easily." Abel's voice was calm and calm, but his inner vigilance had already been fully activated. This calm analysis of unfamiliar threats has become an essential instinct for him to survive many dangerous situations.

"You are quite clever." The visitor chuckled, his tone full of ease and disdain, "But I don't want you to live too long."

As his voice fell, the atmosphere instantly became tense, and the air seemed to freeze. The mysterious man's hand quickly swept across the hem of his coat, and a dagger flashing with cold light appeared in his hand. The blade slightly reflected the weak light of the surrounding gas lamps, emitting a cold threat.

Abel did not hesitate, leaning forward slightly and taking steady steps. He could already sense the other party's intention to attack - this was an experienced killer, his aura left almost no trace, and his steps were extremely light. It seemed that Mills's accomplice was not simple and should not be underestimated.Chapter 179 TestTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2361 wordsUpdate time: 2024-12-03 17:30:02

Just as the other party was about to approach, Abel turned quickly, with his revolver already pointed at the man's chest. The muzzle of the gun was aimed at the target like lightning, and his eyes were sharp, as if he could see through the other party's movements.

"Stop." Abel's deep voice was as sharp as a knife, and his tone did not waver at all. "Otherwise, I don't mind making you stop forever."

The man was slightly stunned, obviously not expecting Abel to react so calmly and quickly. A flash of surprise flashed in his eyes, but was soon replaced by a sneer.

"Do you think you can threaten me?" The man smiled lightly, with a bit of indifference and disdain in his eyes, as if he didn't take the gun seriously at all. "But I do know why Mills died. He always relied on his gun skills, but he was afraid of death and never wanted to fight to the death. It's not surprising that a guy like this died." There was a hint of sarcasm and contempt in his tone.

Abel ignored his mockery, his eyes darkened slightly, and his finger firmly grasped the trigger without any hesitation.

Bang!

The gunshots echoed in the narrow streets, and the harsh sound was particularly harsh in the silent night. The man seemed to have anticipated that Abel would attack, and he dodged quickly by moving sideways. Although he did not hit the target, the bullet still grazed his sleeve, causing a sound of breaking wind.

Abel's eyes flashed, and he clearly felt the extraordinary physical skills of the other party. The other party was not just an ordinary assassin, he must have some special abilities, which made Abel more alert.

"It seems that Mills's accomplice is not simple." Abel quickly analyzed the situation and glanced at the dim streets around him. He could feel that the shadows in the night seemed to come alive, lurking with unknown dangers.

The other party's voice was low and cold, coming from the shadows, with a sense of oppression that was hard to ignore: "I advise you not to resist. I don't want to kill you, but you are on the wrong side."

Abel sneered, with a hint of contempt and sharpness in his eyes. His gaze was like a knife, piercing the other party: "That's an interesting thing to say. Who is the one who is wrong is not up to you to decide."

His tone was unquestionable, the muzzle of the gun slightly raised, tightly locked on the target, and his whole body was as solid as a rock. The air was filled with the smell of gunpowder and danger, and the tension between the two sides gradually increased, as if it was about to explode.

At this moment, the man's figure suddenly blended into the night, so fast that it was almost impossible to catch. His movements were as strange as a ghost, and he approached Abel in a flash. The dagger in his hand flashed with a cold light and pierced Abel's heart.

Abel's pupils shrank slightly, and he quickly took a step back. The wound on his shoulder began to hurt violently, and blood immediately gushed out, soaking his clothes. The sudden pain almost distracted him, but his years of combat experience helped him to keep his mind steady. He gritted his teeth and endured the pain, with the muzzle of his gun firmly locked on the other's heart.

The dagger approached, the blade almost pierced through Abel's sleeve, almost brushing against his skin. The chill from the blade failed to shake Abel's will. He sneered, his voice low and mocking: "It seems that you do have some ability."

Taking advantage of a momentary flaw in the opponent's attack, Abel quickly raised his revolver, pointed the muzzle directly at the opponent's face, and decisively pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The sound of gunfire tore through the night sky again, and the bullet accurately hit the enemy's shoulder. His body trembled violently, and the dagger almost slipped out of his hand. Blood gushed out from the wound, staining his clothes red.

However, the man did not fall down due to his injuries like an ordinary person, but instead showed a sly smile, with a bit of teasing and coldness. He panted slightly, but still stood straight, with an unsettling calmness in his eyes.

"Interesting." He chuckled, with a hint of mockery in his voice, "It seems that you are much more difficult than Mills."

Abel's eyes turned cold, and the wound on his shoulder burned like fire, but he forced himself to ignore the pain and stay calm. He knew that the enemy in front of him was no ordinary assassin. The playful smile on his face was chilling, and he seemed to not care about life or death at all.

"You are quite confident." Abel spoke in a low voice, his tone was cold and with a hint of disdain, but his eyes did not waver at all, "Unfortunately, you cannot decide my fate."

He once again aimed his gun precisely at the enemy's chest, his movements steady as a rock, his body motionless. Although the pain in his body continued to erode his will, he still calmly analyzed the situation, looking for an opportunity to strike a fatal blow.

The enemy still stood still, as if he was not afraid of the cold muzzle of the gun. His eyes were full of frivolous playfulness, as if he was teasing Abel's determination. "Do you think a gun can change anything?" He chuckled, his tone full of contempt for conventional weapons.

The air was filled with tension, as if even the breeze had stagnated due to the tense confrontation. The man slowly raised his hand, his movements graceful and strange, his fingertips gently swiping through the air. Abel vaguely felt a strange energy gathering, as if some extraordinary ability was about to be activated.

"Don't forget," the enemy's voice was low and distant, revealing a cold sneer, "this is an extraordinary world, and you are just a mortal." His words were like a sharp blade, piercing Abel's heart, trying to shake his will.

Abel's eyebrows slightly raised, and the atmosphere around him suddenly became strange. He could feel an unusual force in the air, which made his heart sink - the opponent in front of him was obviously a Beyonder with some unknown ability. This made the original situation even more difficult.

Just as Abel was about to react, the enemy suddenly moved to the side and disappeared from sight. His speed was so fast that it seemed as if he had been covering him all night. Abel subconsciously jumped to the side and quickly pulled the trigger.

Bang!

Fire flashed at the muzzle, and the bullet tore through the air, heading straight for the target. However, the enemy's movements were extremely agile, as if he had completely predicted Abel's reaction, and he swung his body lightly to avoid the fatal blow.

"What a tough opponent." Abel gritted his teeth and muttered in a low voice. His eyes were as sharp as an eagle, locking onto the enemy's position, trying to catch the next flaw.

A moment later, the enemy reappeared, this time standing farther away and more cautious. Abel could see that the enemy had realized that he was not an easy target.

"As expected of a guy who can deal with Mills, you are indeed more difficult than I thought." The enemy raised his lips slightly, revealing a sneer. His eyes were filled with excitement and sarcasm, "But, that's exactly why I find it interesting."

Abel narrowed his eyes slightly, the muzzle of his gun was always pointed at the enemy, and his vigilance suddenly increased. He knew that this was not an ordinary battle, but a contest of life and death. And the enemy's tone seemed to imply that his real killer move had not yet been revealed.

Abel slowly adjusted his posture, staring at the enemy, ready for the next duel. The pain in his shoulder was still sharp, but he did not flinch. His eyes showed a calm and resolute look, and although his body was injured, he was still full of strength. He knew that the enemy in front of him was extremely dangerous, but more importantly, he always felt that he had overlooked something. That detail that he had not caught seemed to determine the key to life and death.

"You are right," Abel said in a low and firm voice, with a coldness that brooks no argument. "I know much more than you think. But don't forget that the one who will die today may be you."

The enemy's eyes suddenly glared, as if Abel's words had aroused some kind of anger. In a short moment, he suddenly jumped up, and the dagger drew a deadly arc in the moonlight. This time, his movements were faster than before, as fast as a cheetah, with a clear target, pointing directly at Abel's chest.Chapter 180 FarewellTitle of the Book:Secret: The Story Hidden Under DestinyAuthor: Little Fish Listening to the RainChapter word count: 2360 wordsUpdate time: 2024-12-04 17:30:10

A sharp light flashed in Abel's eyes, and his heart was alarmed, feeling the pressure of the enemy's momentum. The murderous aura seemed to turn into an invisible wave, impacting every nerve in his body. His heartbeat suddenly accelerated, and his entire consciousness quickly entered a highly concentrated state of battle. His mind was as clear as a knife, and his body instinctively prepared to meet every ever-changing attack.

Without hesitation, Abel quickly retreated, bending his body slightly to avoid the enemy's dagger. At the same time, he suddenly raised his revolver and aimed the muzzle at the enemy's body again. At this moment, every nerve in his body was tense to the limit, and all his attention was focused on this critical moment - the enemy was doomed to die.

Bang!

The gunshot exploded like thunder, and the bullet shot out with a destructive force, hitting the enemy's target. At that moment, Abel's thoughts reached their limit, and he instantly realized the key he had forgotten - the strange aura of the enemy, the detail he had never noticed. Under his feet, his spirituality expanded rapidly, as if merging with the night sky, and the ritual magic took shape in an instant, and power condensed in the air.

However, as the gunshot pierced the night sky and the bullet shot out, Abel's pupils suddenly shrank - the bullet hit the enemy's wrist accurately, blood splattered, but under the influence of the ritual magic, Abel could feel a strange fluctuation. His spirituality was instantly stimulated, and he felt that the enemy's wrist was like the void. The bullet penetrated his body, but did not leave any scars, as if it had passed through an invisible barrier.

"Sure enough, it's not real!" Abel's heart suddenly shook, and he realized that everything in front of him was just an illusion or some special ability of the enemy.

At this moment, Abel's spirituality, which was stimulated and expanded by the ritual magic, sensed a weak and abnormal fluctuation, which quickly came from the direction where his spirituality was weakest. That fluctuation was like a hidden threat, which instantly made Abel's vigilance reach the limit.

His body instinctively fired in that direction, and although his sight had not yet fully turned, he knew in his heart that the real threat from the enemy in front of him was not what he saw, but the greater danger hidden behind that fluctuation.

The gunshots rang out almost at the same time, but the moment he pulled the trigger, Abel felt a sharp pain in his arm - the sharp blade of the dagger cutting through the skin. Without a chance to breathe, Abel quickly adjusted his direction and fired three shots without hesitation.

Amid the dense gunfire, an unusual sound reached my ears - it was the dull echo of a bullet piercing flesh, bringing with it the pain of flesh being torn apart, instantly shattering the silence of the air and echoing in the night sky.

"Hahaha, this spiritual fluctuation is you, Greylint." The enemy's laughter was full of sarcasm and confidence, as if he had anticipated Abel's reaction. However, as the enemy was shot and fell to the ground, his hat was shaken off, revealing a familiar face of Abel - a man who had heard a speech in the East District. On the stage, he had vigorously promoted the injustice under industrialization, advocated equality and justice, and his words were passionate and sharp, as if he was inciting the crowd to resist the status quo.

"You fooled everyone, hahaha..." The enemy's laughter became weaker and weaker, but there was still a hint of mockery and relief in it, as if he had finally revealed a shocking secret when he was about to die.

Faintly, Abel heard his last words: "Grelint, help them..." Those words carried a deep meaning, a trace of sadness that had never disappeared, as if in the last moment, his thoughts had not left the barren East District, and he had not let go of those who he had abandoned.

Abel lowered his head and sighed deeply, with a complicated look in his eyes. Perhaps he had been pretending for too long, or perhaps being able to pretend for so long was exactly what he wanted in his heart.

However, the thought only flashed through his mind in an instant. Abel did not stay for long. Feeling the severe pain in his shoulder, he silently took off his hat and saluted the fallen enemy briefly. At that moment, it seemed to put an end to all the calculations, betrayals and deaths. Although it was short, it was extremely heavy.

Then Abel walked away quickly, his steps steady and decisive, and it seemed that even the air was making way for him.

Soon after, Abel came to a quiet street in the East District and stopped in front of an ordinary house. Although the building looked ordinary, it was the residence where he and Bernadette had secretly agreed to stay. The risk of exposure in the trading house was too high, especially Bernadette's iconic appearance, which was already known to many people, so this became their best choice for secrecy.

Abel pushed open the creaking wooden door and walked into the dim room. The furnishings were simple and there was a slight damp smell. He sat at the table and began to treat his wounds by himself. The pain from the gunshot wound on his shoulder and the knife wound on his arm made every movement difficult. He unbuttoned his bloodstained coat, revealing the torn skin. After a simple cleaning, he bandaged the wound with a bandage despite the pain.

Throughout the process, Abel's face was expressionless. His movements were swift and skillful, but every time he touched a wound, a trace of pain flashed across his face. He knew that these wounds would take at least some time to heal, and now it seemed that he should slow down.

Suddenly, Abel felt an unprecedented fatigue. He stopped what he was doing and stared at the table with empty eyes. He felt an indescribable heaviness in his heart. He had always been calm and resilient, and never seemed to have given himself a chance to breathe. But at this moment, fatigue suddenly came over him, as if spreading from deep in his bones, leaving him powerless to resist.

Abel closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried his best to suppress the suffocating fatigue. However, the invisible weight still followed him like a shadow, looming over his heart, as if no strength could dispel it.

In the early morning, when the sun shone through the gaps in the curtains onto the floor, Abel slowly opened his eyes. With a groggy head, he found himself still sitting where he had treated his wounds last night. He was covered by a blanket, and the warm touch made him realize that he had fallen asleep without realizing it.

He turned his head and saw Bernadette sitting on the sofa, gracefully holding up the teacup and sipping tea gently. She didn't look at him, but quietly stared at the sunlight outside the window, as if everything was under her control. At that moment, Abel felt a strange sense of tranquility, as if the whole world had slowed down, and only her presence and the cup of tea seemed particularly comfortable.

Bernadette seemed to sense his gaze, and turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting Abel's, a hint of tenderness and concern flashing in her eyes. "You're awake." Her voice was gentle but with a firmness that could not be ignored, "How is the wound? Do you need any further treatment?"

Abel did not answer immediately, but frowned slightly, feeling the stabbing pain in his shoulder. He slowly stood up, but found that the fatigue of his body had not completely dissipated after a night's rest, but became even heavier. The pain of the wound was particularly clear in the quiet of the early morning, and the indescribable tiredness was even more difficult to dispel. "I'm fine, Bernadette." He whispered, with a hint of determination in his tone, although he was still suppressing some emotions in his heart.

Bernadette did not respond immediately, but just stared at him quietly. She seemed to have seen through his thoughts long ago, and gently put down the teacup, stood up, and walked towards him. "Take a good rest," she said, her tone gentle, but also with a concern that could not be ignored, "Next, don't get yourself involved in the confrontation between the royal family and the Spiritual Cult."