Jack Thorne truly had no intention of letting me go. His men injected a subcutaneous tracker into the back of my neck and threatened me: "If you try to escape, the device in your neck will explode."

But this difficulty was hardly insurmountable for me. After leaving the Thorn Group facility where I was held, I headed straight to my best friend Nancy's place.


I arrived at an abandoned construction site in the slums, climbed over crumbling walls, and approached a dilapidated trailer.

I pushed open the trailer door with a "creak," and a pungent smell hit me like a wall.

"Jesus Christ," I coughed.


The inside of the trailer was a disaster zone—clothes scattered everywhere, half-eaten ramen on the table, and dirty dishes piled in the sink for what looked like weeks.

I kicked aside the clutter blocking my path, walked to the bed, forcefully lifted it, and moved the wooden board underneath.


Beneath the board was a secret passage. I'd bet Nancy was down there, obsessing over

some new project again.

Walking through the passage, I entered Nancy's underground laboratory. It was a cement-walled bunker. Weapons hung on the walls: handguns, sniper rifles, and various other weapons, even bombs.

Nancy was a weapons enthusiast and an essential partner on my path as an assassin.

Nancy sat in a torn leather chair, one leg curled up on the seat, both hands flying across the keyboard. The computer screen cast an eerie glow on her wild orange curls.

"Nancy! Help me, quick!" I plopped down on a nearby sofa.

She didn't turn around, "Speak."

"Someone installed an explosive tracker in the back of my neck." Seeing no reaction from her, I added, "It was probably something from the Thorn Group. Their tech was cutting-edge, even their chains had fingerprint locks. Don't ask how I knew."

Nancy's ears perked up. She dropped her leg from the chair and kicked off the desk. The chair spun around.

She stared at me, eyes half-closed, grabbed a small knife, and walked toward me.

I couldn't help but shrink back, "W-what are you going to do?"

She came close to my neck, pinched it, "Usually, if you try to forcibly remove this kind of tracker, it will explode immediately."

"You have a way, right?"

"Hmm, I can disable the bomb first, then take it out. Come with me."

I got up and walked to an operating table, sitting down. Nancy pulled over a large lamp, aimed it at my neck, and began working.

I told her about my eventful experiences over the past two days.

"Ha, so are you going to help him kill that mole?" she asked.

I scoffed, "Who wants to work for him? But now that I've pissed him off, I need to get the hell out of Sfortuna first."

"Seriously?" Nancy's tone was mocking, "If I were you, I wouldn't just run away, I'd get revenge. Running away like a scared little girl—what kind of badass assassin does that make you?"

My eyes lit up, "But how?"

Nancy sat down beside me with interest, pushing up her glasses, "Rather than killing him, I think there's something more interesting."

I was curious, "What?"

"Fuck him." Nancy smiled slyly, "Then you won't just be a top assassin, but a top assassin who has fucked Jack Thorne!"

My blood instantly boiled, "Nancy! You're a goddamn genius!"

Nancy nimbly jumped off the bed, walked to a drawer, and pulled it open with a "whoosh," "Now I'm going to show you my latest weapon research!"

I was dumbfounded: a drawer full of neatly arranged sex toys! I looked at those things, then back at Nancy.

Nancy took out a dog collar, bit her lip, and swayed her skinny body in a pretend-sexy way, "Various styles, various sizes, all for your pleasure~" She pulled out a thumb-sized glass vial containing white powder, "And this—one whiff and they're down~hot all over, unable to speak or move, consciousness clouded, completely at your mercy."

"Ha!" I twitched my lips, "Nancy, have you been testing these on some poor guy recently?"

Nancy's face fell, "Are you going to use it or not?"

"Hell, yes!"

There was absolutely no reason to hesitate!