The woman referred to as “Sixth Sister” earlier had said, “No matter how big the issue is, it can wait. Meet Fifth Brother first.” From this, it seemed that as long as Song Qi and the others got to see Qian Wu first, they would most likely survive.
The situation unfolded exactly as Qi Xia had guessed. In just two or three minutes, Song Qi emerged, his right hand now fully restored.
“Apologies, everyone. Come in and rest for now. Fifth Brother is quite busy,” he said, nodding at the three of them. “He should be able to see you in about half an hour.”
Qi Xia glanced down at Song Qi’s hand, finding it almost unbelievable. Could this Qian Wu really restore severed limbs? Did he possess a “Resonance” power capable of healing the wounded—or even reviving the dead?
Was he the source of the overwhelming scent the hero had detected?
The three followed Song Qi into the prison and waited in what appeared to be a guard’s break room. After about half an hour, footsteps finally echoed down the hallway.
They slowly rose to their feet, their eyes fixed on the door.
Just what kind of person was this Qian Wu, the leader of the “Cats”?
A few seconds later, a tall woman appeared in the doorway. She wore a black leather jacket, her short hair neatly trimmed, her face sharp and composed.
A terrifying scar ran down her left cheek, as if torn by some wild beast.
She took a few steps forward, her pupils flickering slightly, then extended a hand toward Qi Xia. “Hello. I’m Qian Wu.”
The atmosphere instantly turned awkward.
“You’re Qian Wu…?”
“The one and only,” the woman replied.
“Hello,” Qi Xia said coolly, nodding without taking her hand. “Qi Xia.”
“Qi… Xia…” Qian Wu’s expression twisted into something between a smirk and a look of wistful longing.
“Do you know me?” Qi Xia asked.
“No,” Qian Wu withdrew her hand. “This is our first meeting.”
Qi Xia frowned slightly. She was lying.
But who said the leader of the “Cats” had to tell him the truth?
Qian Wu smiled at him. “What’s with that look? As if you doubt my identity.”
“I do doubt it,” Qi Xia said, still frowning. “The two people behind you called you ‘Fifth Brother,’ but you’re a woman?”
“Me? A woman?” Qian Wu glanced down at herself. “Doesn’t seem like a problem.”
Qiao Jiajin and Officer Li exchanged glances, equally baffled. Did someone really need to check their own body to confirm their gender?
“Dang it! You’re not some kind of pervert, are you?” Qiao Jiajin blurted out.
“Hah, hardly…” Qian Wu looked up at Qiao Jiajin, her expression flickering with something unspoken. After a pause, she asked, “Are you all really that interested in my gender?”
“I’m not,” Qi Xia cut in bluntly. “Qian Wu, let’s talk.”
“Oh?” Qian Wu turned back to him. “I know you must have a lot of questions, but now isn’t the time.”
“Not the time?”
Without answering, Qian Wu pulled over a chair and sat down, gesturing for the others to do the same.
“Smoke?” She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her jacket and offered them around.
Qi Xia and Qiao Jiajin declined, but Officer Li took one without hesitation.
Qian Wu stood, leaned forward to light Li’s cigarette, then took one for herself.
Qi Xia felt something was off. “What are we waiting for?”
Qian Wu exhaled a slow stream of smoke. “Someone.”
“Someone…?”
Silence settled over the group. Qi Xia sat at the table, deep in thought, analyzing the situation. Qiao Jiajin scanned the room, mentally cataloging which piece of furniture he’d grab if a fight broke out.
Officer Li and Qian Wu smoked quietly, exchanging no words.
The most restless among them was Zheng Yingxiong. He paced the room, sniffing intently, as if searching for something.
Once her cigarette burned down, Qian Wu pinched out the ember and shot a glance at the woman with the lip piercing.
“Understood,” the woman nodded, then murmured something, as if speaking to someone unseen.
Minutes later, footsteps approached. A scholarly-looking man pushed open the door.
“Sixth Sister… you called for me?” he asked softly.
“Nineteen, Fifth Brother needs to speak,” the woman said. “Stand inside.”
“Understood,” Nineteen nodded. “Leave it to me.”
Song Qi and the lip-pierced woman exchanged glances, preparing to leave, but Qian Wu stopped them.
“No need for anyone to leave,” Qian Wu waved them back. “Song Qi, Saturday, sit with us.”
Once everyone was seated, Nineteen stood silently beside them and closed his eyes.
Zheng Yingxiong slowly retreated behind Qi Xia, muttering under his breath:
“I… smell the fragrance of ‘Silence.'”
“What…?”
Qi Xia turned, baffled, but before he could speak, he felt an odd energy envelop the room. All sounds from outside vanished, as if swallowed by an unnatural quiet.
Something had happened.
“No need to panic,” Qian Wu said seriously. “Nineteen’s ability isolates this space from all external noise. It’s just so we can talk freely.”
“Talk…?” Qiao Jiajin and Li Shangwu exchanged wary glances.
Meanwhile, Qi Xia turned to Zheng Yingxiong, his mind racing with questions.
At the same time, Qian Wu spoke again: “Qi Xia, ‘Heaven’ is looking for you.”
“Oh?” Qi Xia turned back, his expression blank. He’d already suspected as much. “So you’re afraid of eavesdroppers? Did ‘Heaven’ hire you? What’s their end goal?”
“I don’t know,” Qian Wu waved a hand, and Saturday retrieved a dusty bottle of foreign liquor from a nearby cabinet. “Qi Xia, today I want to see where you stand—then decide whether to hand you over to ‘Heaven.'”
She casually handed the bottle to Qiao Jiajin, then hesitated and pulled it back. “What should I call you?”
“Ah Jin, from Portland Street.”
“Portland Street… Ah Jin…” Qian Wu paused, her eyes flickering with something like melancholy, then placed the bottle in front of him.
“This…” Qiao Jiajin stared at the half-empty bottle, swallowing hard. It felt like he’d stumbled into paradise. “Is… is all this for me?”
“Not quite,” Qian Wu smiled. “Ah Jin, fine liquor in the ‘Endgame’ is a dwindling resource. You can’t hog it all—I’ll drink with you.”
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