At this moment, profound silence reigned. Respiration and heartbeats nearly ceased. Aota Hideaki—in Korea, none failed to recognize him, yet none truly knew him. Everyone was aware of such a figure commanding Korea, yet he had never appeared publicly. Resembling Z-nation's Adam from not long ago; it seemed intelligent individuals favored operating from the shadows?
The imposing doors swung open; heavy footsteps emanated, each tread conveying immense power. Within the spotlight, a towering knight materialized. Full silver armor glinted somewhat blindingly under the lights; his martial appearance rivaled Arthur's Knights of the Round Table. The sole imperfection was the absence of a helmet and a great steel sword.
Standing before the microphone at the staircase landing, Hideaki prepared to deliver his address.
"Is this the ultimate boss in Korea?" 13 observed Hideaki placidly, fingers twitching involuntarily, mentally rehearsing the firing sequence. If the COOL-FIRE5 were currently in hand, Hideaki likely would have perished ten times over.
Tapping lightly with one finger, a natural smile graced Hideaki's face. His refined features resembled a girl's tranquility, utterly irreconcilable with the demon who planned the invasion of Korea, who slew over thirty thousand people amidst the gentle breeze...
"Good evening, everyone." Hideaki's voice possessed a magnetic quality. "I am the Commander-in-Chief of the R-Army stationed in H, Aota Hideaki."
Perfunctory applause echoed through the hall; 13 offered merely a couple of token claps.
"Alright, let's dispense with the formalities. Today is simply a gathering; everyone's enjoyment is paramount." Hideaki tactfully concluded his brief speech. The hall lights fully illuminated. No one paid further heed to the "knight" slowly descending the stairs.
The instant the lights brightened, a large crowd had already converged around Zhenxian. To them, the emblem of the Fantasy Group was indistinguishable from the appearance of currency.
"Miss Song, long time no see. Do you still remember me?" a refined man inquired. He wore a black tailcoat, a mask, and a towering top hat—the attire of a phantom thief.
"You are..." Zhenxian genuinely struggled to recognize him.
"Remember the uncle involved in land speculation?" the man smiled humbly.
"Oh! I remember now! It's Uncle Li from the Tiansheng Real Estate Group!" In truth, Zhenxian disliked this hypocritical middle-aged man, yet she maintained a smiling facade. The way of business lies in concealing joy and anger. Though having navigated the commercial world for only a year, Zhenxian couldn't deny being a successful "merchant."
Observing the two titans of Korea conversing, the surrounding crowd temporarily shelved their intentions of ingratiation, each seeking out guests "useful" to themselves for conversation.
"Unseen for a year, Zhenxian has matured considerably. Now, even Uncle feels somewhat stirred upon seeing you. Ha... Ha..." Uncle Li offered praise subtly.
"You flatter me. Uncle Li remains quite handsome; just now, I mistook you for some young master," Zhenxian covered her mouth, smiling shyly.
13's heart held only three words, "Truly hypocritical..."
"Right, after chatting for so long, I still don't know, this gentleman is..." Uncle Li's gaze fell upon 13.
"Him!" Zhenxian spoke, again embracing 13's arm. "He is my boyfriend, just returned from studying abroad in USA."
"May I inquire as to your name?" The other party maintained a formulaic smile. Beneath the mask, 13 wore no pleasant expression. Courses on social etiquette at school were 13's most detested.
"Apologies, I desire a drink. Please excuse me for a moment." 13 coldly withdrew his arm from Zhenxian's embrace, walking towards the dining table, leaving the two in awkwardness.
"Hehe, just returned to the country, somewhat unaccustomed," Zhenxian offered a helpless smile. "Actually, he's quite shy."
"Oh, ah, it's nothing? Such boys are precisely the endearing type, Ha... Ha..." Though Uncle Li spoke thus, hatred gnawed within him.
"Mr. Li, with whom are you conversing so animatedly?" A person Zhenxian least wished to see appeared.
Hideaki stood beside them, holding a glass of champagne.
"Ah, it is His Excellency Hideaki." Uncle Li's voice evinced the joy of seeing his father; this was precisely what Zhenxian disliked most about him. After Japan entered Hancheng, Uncle Li was the first merchant to declare support for the R-Army. Within Korea's business circles, he was secretly referred to as "Running Dog!"
"Mr. Li truly possesses extensive connections, acquainted even with such a beautiful 'princess'." Hideaki gazed cordially at Zhenxian, his look repulsing her, as if the flesh where his gaze lingered would slough off.
How could Uncle Li fail to grasp Hideaki's meaning? "Come, come, allow me to introduce you." He yielded his position to Hideaki. "This is the 'Queen' of our Korea's electronic network industry, the youngest President of the Fantasy Group, Miss Song Zhenxian."
"Greetings." Hideaki politely extended his right hand.
"Mm." Zhenxian merely nodded, ignoring the proffered right hand. Hideaki could only retract it awkwardly. Zhenxian rarely displayed such overt dislike for someone.
"Unexpectedly, the owner of the Fantasy Group is such a young beauty. Truly eye-opening..." Hideaki offered praise.
"You overstate. I am merely an ignorant young girl," Zhenxian maintained a stern expression.
"Not at all, not at all." Hideaki shook his head dismissively. "The success of the Fantasy Group is known not only throughout Korea; long ago in Japan, I fully appreciated the might of this 'empire'!"
"That is my father's accomplishment, bearing no relation to this humble daughter." Though polite words, Zhenxian still felt some pique.
"One cannot phrase it thusly. Maintaining such a colossal company—an incapable person could not manage it. Observing the Fantasy Group's performance over the past year, there is no sign of regression whatsoever. The market continues to expand constantly. This amply demonstrates Miss Song's exceptional wisdom." Hideaki's eloquence was first-rate.
"This humble daughter possesses merely minor cleverness, hardly comparable to Mr. Aota..." The characteristic female sarcasm emerged. "We merely engage in games of currency, whereas Mr. Aota toys with human lives and nations."
Uncle Li detected the discord, about to interject, but was halted by Hideaki.
Unexpectedly showing no anger, Hideaki continued smiling, "Miss Song is excessively modest. Hundreds of billions flowing in and out are merely games. We are entirely rough individuals, reeking of gunpowder, incomparable to those of you who sit in offices counting money. When we go to the battlefield, it is life exchanged for life. Who considers it 'play'? The next bullet will terminate his foolish notions."
"Then for the soldiers of our coastal defense forces, over thirty thousand lives, what did you exchange for them?" Zhenxian glared furiously at Hideaki, devoid of fear or retreat.
The scent of gunpowder grew increasingly potent...
"Good, good, truly good." Hideaki suddenly began clapping strangely. "Miss Song is indeed a heroine among women, daring to utter such audacious words..."
"Are you not afraid I will kill you?" Hideaki stepped forward, nearly pressing against Zhenxian's face. His grave expression suggested genuine murderous intent.
"Afraid? Naturally, I am afraid. Yet, as a citizen of Korea, certain things require us to defend them with our lives." Zhenxian's gaze remained fearless.
"Do you know? I find myself somewhat liking you." Hideaki stepped back, smiling strangely once more. The scent of gunpowder also dissipated with this smile.
"That is hardly my honor," Zhenxian remained unappreciative.
At this moment, the lights began to dim; melodious dance music commenced...
"May I have the honor of the first dance with you?" Hideaki gallantly raised the previously rejected right hand. This time, he possessed absolute confidence it would not be refused...
"Apologies, I harbor no such interest," Zhenxian refused sternly.
"If you lack interest, perhaps those 'rats' in the sewers will be greatly saddened." Hideaki's smile turned wicked.
Uncle Li no longer understood their conversation...
"You!" Zhenxian was both astonished and indignant.
"The moment my hand lowers, perhaps it will be their final breath." Hideaki's hand descended slowly.
Zhenxian struggled painfully. Glancing back towards the clown not far away, he was engrossed in consuming various foods. A sense of sorrow arose. Helpless eyes could elicit sympathy from anyone in the world, yet could not gain 13's pity. The final instant before Hideaki's hand lowered, Zhenxian grasped it, tears glistening.
"It seems you are indeed a woman full of compassion," Hideaki smiled triumphantly.
"You will descend into hell," Zhenxian stated fiercely.
Raising his other hand, he wiped away the tears from the corner of Zhenxian's eye with his index finger.
"Much better this way. My dance partner must naturally be the happiest person in the world; how could she weep?" Hideaki led Zhenxian by the hand towards the central stage.
At this moment, the lights had fully dimmed. Those same few spotlights illuminated again, shining directly upon Hideaki and Zhenxian, as eye-catching as superstars...
Everyone watched with envious eyes, as if witnessing a true knight and princess, a fairy-tale story unfolding.
And the clown was no character in this tale. 13 silently walked into the deserted restroom, a black figure following closely behind...
Within the vast ballroom, only this pair danced. Everyone tactfully yielded the first dance to the "protagonists."
Hideaki gently encircled Zhenxian's slender waist, holding her soft hand level. He began taking romantic steps. Yet, to Zhenxian, it felt like hands stained with the blood of compatriots caressed her body. Every inch of skin touched by him ached as if splitting open. Tears welled in her eyes again, appearing like deep-sea pearls under the bright spotlights, beautiful.
"Who can come rescue me?" Zhenxian's heart cried out helplessly. Yet the man who swore to protect her had vanished from the venue.
As the black man stepped into the restroom, he witnessed the most terrifying sight...
13 faced the wall, kneeling on the ground, body bent, convulsing strangely. His right hand frantically gripped his mask.
"Sir, what's wrong..." The black man slowly approached.
13 muttered something under his breath. Perhaps too softly; the black man couldn't hear clearly, so he drew nearer. This time, he heard everything...
"Impermissible! No one may touch my Angel! I must! I must kill him! Kill him! Kill him! I must extract his every bone, tear his every muscle. It must be so! It must be so. Touching Angel's hand is a sin, kill! Looking into Angel's eyes is a sin, kill!... Kill!... Kill!... Kill!..." 13's left hand limply rested against the wall.
The black man merely perceived the clown on the floor as a lunatic.
"I can barely control myself! Give me blood! Let me kill! Let me kill!" Suddenly, the clown's left hand exerted force, forcefully shattering the ceramic tile, plunging into the cement wall beneath, deeply gouging four demonic claw marks. Blood dripped from his four fingers. A bone-chilling sensation seized the black man's soul. The battle-hardened black man felt fear akin to a woman's, directed towards the very person he had assessed as merely an ordinary intellectual.
"Do you agree he deserves death?" 13 abruptly turned his head, still masked, yet his eyes radiated a frigid light.
The black man instinctively assumed a combat stance, rendered speechless, like a fawn confronting a lion.
"Wish to fight? Wish to know the color of your own blood? You will die, you know!" 13 swayed as he stood up, directly facing the still-trembling prey...
The black man genuinely wanted to say "No!" but found himself unable to speak.
"Are you prepared? Here I come!" With that, he leaped from his spot, pouncing towards the stunned black man.
Again, purely instinctual. The black man's right fist flew out rapidly, aimed at 13's face. If this punch connected, perhaps it could still save his life. However, mid-air, 13 deftly caught it with his left hand, enclosing it within his palm.
"Such resistance is futile!" 13 stated placidly. His feet hadn't touched the ground; one pressed against the black man's armpit, the other planted firmly on the black man's mouth.
Worthy of being ranked among the top ten bodyguards; even supporting 13's entire weight, he remained standing steadily on the ground.
"What use is a hand that cannot strike the enemy?" 13 exerted force with both feet as if standing, simultaneously lifting forcefully with his left hand. His foot covered the black man's mouth, preventing his cry of agony. Completing a full rotation in the air, he landed on the ground. Blood traced a beautiful arc through the air...
"You... What are you?" Lying on the ground, the black man's face turned white. Clutching the profusely bleeding massive wound, he lamented.
"Do not blame me. Ordinarily, I could have killed you via the simplest method, but not today." 13 knelt on the ground again, gripping the black man's right arm, trembling...
"Hideaki is your master, correct? He is currently touching the Angel whom even gods are forbidden to approach! My Angel! Therefore, you must use your life, your blood, to appease the hatred within my heart! Although even this cannot eliminate one ten-thousandth of it. Very well, accept the death you deserve." 13 stood up again, walking towards the black man. "You may close your eyes. Consider this merely a nightmare. Soon, very soon, it will end..."