stonecrandall Chapter 132 Flowing Clouds Smoke Blood, Silent Night
Chapter 132 Flowing Clouds Smoke Blood, Silent Night
Chapter 132: Flowing Clouds Smear Blood, Silent Night
Arthur Coleman stared blankly at the relaxed and carefree Eastern boy in front of him, as if his own predicament of being hunted by professional assassins was nothing more than a trivial interlude before dinner in the other's eyes.
"Conditions? Mr. Lin, what do you need? Money? Or... some kind of promise for the future?" Coleman asked with difficulty, clutching the wound on his forehead. He was used to trading, used to exchanging chips for survival.
Lin Yan tilted his head, as if thinking seriously for a moment, then smiled casually: "Haven't decided yet. Maybe a good rock record, maybe a proper Cleveland meal? Who knows. Prosecutor, don't think too much about it now, let's get out of here alive first."
His nonchalance left Coleman with a strange sense of awe. This man seemed detached from worldly desires; power and wealth seemed to hold no real interest for him. Could such a person truly exist in the world?
"Alright, stay here, don't move, and don't look." Lin Yan's smile faded, his tone leaving no room for argument. He gestured for Coleman to curl up in the deepest part of the dense bushes, where the shadows were heavy and the area was extremely well hidden.
Then, he patted Xiao Qi's head in his arms and instructed with his divine sense, "Xiao Qi, watch him. If he moves or looks around, then... gently bite his trouser leg to remind him." Lin Yan couldn't bear to let Xiao Qi hurt anyone.
"Awoo! (I guarantee I'll complete the mission!)" Xiao Qi immediately jumped down from Lin Yan's arms, like a little white guard, and sat down next to Coleman. Her obsidian-like eyes stared at him intently, and she even pretended to show her tiny teeth fiercely, but unfortunately, it had no intimidating effect. Instead, it made her look even cuter.
Coleman looked at the intelligent little puppy, and the sense of absurdity in his heart intensified, but he still held his breath and curled up as instructed.
Lin Yan stood up, his gaze sweeping over his light-colored polo shirt and khaki pants, and he frowned slightly. He was a bit of a germaphobe and didn't want to be splattered with blood later, having to use a cleaning spell when he got back. Although it was convenient, he still felt uneasy about it.
"Wait a moment," he said to Coleman in the bushes, then his figure flickered and disappeared as if merging into the air.
Inside the small courtyard.
"Young Master? Why are you back? Is Xiao Qi hungry? I'll go prepare some snacks right away." Wang Yuling, who was tending to the herb garden, quickly put down her work when she saw Lin Yan suddenly appear.
"No need to rush, Yuling." Lin Yan raised his hand to stop her. "I'll come back and change my clothes."
He walked straight into his room, and with a thought, a moon-white robe appeared in his hand. This was a magical garment he had crafted himself—"Flowing Clouds." The fabric appeared as soft as clouds, but in reality, it was exceptionally tough, impervious to water and fire, and difficult to damage from ordinary swords. It could also ward off dust and impurities; even rolling in the mud wouldn't leave it stained. Furthermore, "Flowing Clouds" could slightly enhance wind speed and could change its style according to his will, making it a top-tier luxury item in the outside world.
Lin Yan quickly changed into the "Flowing Clouds" robe. The robe automatically conformed to his body, transforming into the same polo shirt and khaki pants he had just worn. It was still a light color, but the material and overall feel were completely different. He felt the coolness of the robe and the faint spiritual energy flowing around him, and nodded in satisfaction.
With another flash, he was back outside the bushes in Rockefeller Park. In the outside world, only a fleeting moment had passed.
By now, the sun had almost completely sunk below the horizon, and the light in the park was rapidly fading, casting long, distorted shadows from the trees. In the distance, beams of flashlights began to sweep erratically, and hushed voices and cautious footsteps were approaching.
Lin Yan took a deep breath, a barely perceptible glint of excitement flashing in his eyes. Since leaving the Golden Triangle, he hadn't truly stretched his muscles in a long time. That bloody purge, relying solely on martial arts and tactical awareness, while exhilarating, ultimately lacked something… the extraordinary aspect.
He activated his Wind Control Technique, his body becoming as light as a feather. With a light touch of his toes on the grass, he floated away like a wisp of green smoke. At the same time, an ancient-looking dagger, gleaming with a cold, eerie light, appeared in his hand—it was just an ordinary dagger in his storage ring, but for dealing with mortals, it was already a divine weapon.
The hunt begins.
The first assassin, in standard tactical formation, used a large tree for cover and cautiously searched ahead. He was completely unaware that death had silently descended from the side.
Lin Yan glided along the ground like a ghost, and the instant he approached his target, his body sprang up like a spring! His left hand, like an iron clamp, covered the assassin's mouth and nose from behind, while his right hand, a dagger, transformed into a bolt of cold lightning, precisely slashed across the assassin's neck, severing the trachea and carotid artery. The movements were swift and silent. The assassin only had time to widen his eyes and twitch slightly before Lin Yan gently laid him on the ground, his blood quickly seeping into the soil.
Lin Yan didn't even glance at the corpse; his figure disappeared into the shadows once more as he pounced on his next target.
The second assassin heard a slight noise and was about to turn around when a foot suddenly kicked out from the shadows on his side, striking his wrist, the one holding the gun, squarely. A crisp "crack" rang out; the wrist broke, and the pistol flew from his hand. Before the assassin could even cry out in pain, Lin Yan's dagger had already pierced his ribs with pinpoint accuracy, reaching his heart. The assassin's body stiffened, then he collapsed limply to the ground.
The third, the fourth… Lin Yan moved through the trees like a dancer in the night. His movements were concise, efficient, and full of the beauty of power and speed. His Wind Control Technique allowed him to move like the wind, and his divine sense gave him complete awareness of his surroundings, enabling him to always anticipate the enemy's position and movements.
He would sometimes leap from the trees like a cat, his dagger aimed straight at the top of the head; sometimes he would burst from the bushes, severing Achilles tendons before delivering the fatal blow; sometimes he would use his speed to circle behind the enemy, ending the fight before they could react. Even those "our own people" in police uniforms, exuding a strong murderous aura, were not spared.
The entire process was eerily quiet. There was no fierce gunfight, no screams of terror, only the occasional muffled groan, forcibly choked in the throat, and the soft thud of bodies falling to the ground. A faint smell of blood began to fill the air, but it was dispersed by the evening breeze and was not strong.
In less than five minutes, all the pursuers who had entered the area to search, totaling more than twenty people, were silently eliminated. Lin Yan stood in the shadows, his "Flowing Cloud" robe still spotless, the moonlight shining on his calm face, as if he had just taken a stroll.
He flicked away imaginary blood droplets from the dagger and put it back into his storage ring. Then, like a child who had just finished a small task, he clapped his hands casually and turned to walk towards the bushes.
"All done. Prosecutor, we can leave now." His voice remained calm, carrying a hint of languor after completing his task.
Through the bushes, Arthur Coleman could vaguely see the fallen shadow outside, and the figure of a boy walking home, bathed in the faint moonlight. He held the white dog named Seven tightly, feeling a chill run down his spine.
Who exactly is this boy?
Lin Yan returned to the bushes and reached out to help Arthur Coleman, who was still curled up on the ground, to his feet. "Alright, Mr. Prosecutor, the problem is temporarily resolved. We can leave now."
Arthur Coleman stood up, still shaken, his legs numb from being crouched and tense for so long. He instinctively wanted to peek outside, but Lin Yan stopped him with a look. "Don't look, just go."
Xiao Qi let out a soft "woof" and rubbed against Lin Yan's trouser leg, indicating that it wanted to get down and run with him. Lin Yan bent down and scooped it back into his arms, gently patting its little paws: "The ground is dirty, and there's mud on it. You'll get covered in dust later. Do you still want to sleep in bed tonight?" Xiao Qi whimpered aggrievedly, but still obediently nestled in his arms, its little head curiously looking around.
Coleman watched this scene and felt even more bizarre—this young man, who had just eliminated numerous assassins using inhuman methods, was now complaining about his pet getting him dirty, just like any clean young person.
The two men and their dog walked briskly along the forest path toward the park exit. As they neared the exit, Lin Yan suddenly stopped and gave Coleman a clear "shush" gesture. His gaze fell on two black sedans parked in the shadows by the roadside outside the park gate.
Coleman's heart leaped into his throat; he recognized it as the pursuers' car!
Lin Yan's eyes narrowed slightly, and his powerful divine sense instantly transformed into several invisible yet incredibly sharp needles, spanning a hundred meters and precisely piercing the foreheads of the two assassins who were vigilantly observing the park exit from inside the car.
Inside the car, the leader in charge had just picked up the walkie-talkie to report the situation when he suddenly felt as if a red-hot iron rod had been plunged into his temple. The excruciating pain didn't even have time to reach his nerve endings before his consciousness was plunged into eternal darkness. The other assassin suffered the same fate; without even a groan, they both slumped into their seats, their brains churned into a bloody mess by the sharp power of their spiritual senses, dying instantly.
"Let's go." Lin Yan's tone was as calm as if he were merely brushing dust off his clothes. He led the dumbfounded Coleman out of the Rockefeller Park gates as if nothing had happened, without even glancing at the two lifeless cars.
They came to a relatively quiet side street adjacent to Euclid Avenue, near the intersection of East 55th Street. It was dimly lit and sparsely populated. Lin Yan stopped and said to Coleman, "Tell me the exact address."
"This...this is the back alley of Euclid Avenue near East 55th Street," Coleman replied quickly, though puzzled.
Lin Yan nodded, and with a slight thought, contacted Alexander Winters, who was far away in New York, through the imprint left in the space. He transmitted his thoughts across thousands of miles in an instant: "Winters, do we have any people in Cleveland? I need a place to stay and to deal with a little trouble."
Alexander Winters' voice immediately echoed in his mind, tinged with concern and absolute obedience: "Young Master, what is your exact location in Cleveland? I will arrange for the nearest person to meet you immediately; they will arrive within ten minutes."
Lin Yan sent over the address Coleman had just given him. "Okay, as soon as possible."
Ten minutes, not a minute off. Three sleek, imposing 1959 Cadillac Series 62 sedans silently glided into the alley and came to a stop. This model was a symbol of power and wealth at the time, and its spacious body and gleaming chrome trim could not conceal its luxury even in the dim alley.
The doors of the first two cars opened first, and several sharp-looking men in dark suits stepped out, scanning their surroundings warily. The rear door of the middle car opened, and three distinguished-looking middle-aged white men stepped out.
The moment Arthur Coleman saw the three men, his pupils contracted sharply, and he almost cried out in alarm! He recognized all three of them; each of them was a highly influential figure in Cleveland's political and business circles, someone he would normally find difficult to meet!
Richard "Dick" Shaw: A highly influential senior council member of the Cleveland City Council, known for his shrewd political skills and extensive network of connections.
Harrison Worthington: Senior Vice President of Cleveland Trust, who oversees the flow of substantial industrial capital and is one of the leading figures in the local financial sector.
Frank Donovan: A renowned labor lawyer who represents several major unions and wields considerable influence among blue-collar workers and union leaders, frequently mediating labor disputes.
At this moment, these three powerful figures who wielded considerable influence in Cleveland all walked up to Lin Yan, their expressions respectful, heads slightly bowed, and in a clear yet unobtrusive voice, they spoke in unison:
"Young Master."
Lin Yan simply gave a faint "hmm" in response. Holding Xiao Qi, he tilted his head at Arthur Coleman, who was frozen in place: "Get in the car, Mr. Prosecutor. This isn't the place to talk."
After saying that, he bent down and sat in the spacious back seat of the middle Cadillac. Xiao Qi peeked out from his lap, curiously looked at the three obsequious "big shots," and then shrank back in.
Harrison Worthington personally closed the car door for Lin Yan, then quickly exchanged a glance with the other two before getting into the vehicles in front and behind him respectively. The convoy started up silently again and sped away from the dimly lit alley.
Outside the car window, the Cleveland nightscape flowed by. Inside, Arthur Coleman sat stiffly next to Lin Yan, his inner turmoil threatening to overwhelm him. He looked at the calm Eastern youth beside him, gazing out the window, and recalled the scene of the three powerful figures bowing respectfully earlier. An uncontrollable thought surfaced:
This seemingly harmless boy wields power far more terrifying than I imagined… no, far more terrifying than anyone could imagine. What kind of vortex have I been drawn into? And who exactly is he?