"Tsk tsk tsk, this old fart can really make a run for it."
Near the high-speed train station, as a train slowly departs.
The man in the black robe in the shadows shook his head in pity.
He had planned to make another assassination attempt, but unfortunately, the target moved too quickly and had blended into the crowd.
Caw!
A crow pecked at its feathers on the electric pole and then flew down to land on his shoulder.
The four black-clothed men with masks behind him, one of them handed over a cell phone.
"It's the Red Deacon."
Indifferently taking it, he heard a voice from the earpiece.
"How's the progress with the Songhe Style side?"
"A bit undercooked, but it should be sufficient."
The black-robed man spoke calmly, and the woman in red nodded slightly over the phone.
"What about that kid? Make sure not to expose our tracks."
"I've left him a little something; he won't survive tonight."
