After securing the gaunt young man, Qin Siyang lit a damp log at the warehouse door and let the thick smoke billow through the space for a long while, ensuring no trace of scent lingered. Then he raced back at top speed—it was getting late, and he had no time to waste.
He arrived at the internet café once more.
When Wang Defa saw him, he groaned inwardly. Muttering an excuse to the customers that he had business to attend to, he stepped outside again.
"Boss, what is it this time?" he asked, his tone heavy with resignation.
"I need to use the warehouse computer."
Wang Defa sighed. "The key's in your pocket. Use it whenever you want."
"No. The internet's yours, the warehouse is yours. I have to let you know when I use it—don't want to cause you any trouble."
Wang Defa forced a smile, hollow and insincere. "How polite of you."
Qin Siyang then pulled two silver coins from his pocket and pressed them into Wang Defa's hand. "Your money back, plus interest."
One was his original coin, the other the one he'd seized from the young man's backpack. Handing both over was his way of keeping the promise he'd made earlier.
Wang Defa stared at the two silver coins in disbelief, speechless for a long moment.
Qin Siyang clapped him on the shoulder, then turned and walked toward the warehouse.
It was only when Qin Siyang's figure disappeared behind the warehouse door that Wang Defa snapped out of his daze. He bit down on one of the coins, feeling the hard, solid metal beneath his teeth—genuine, no trickery.
His entire worldview was turned upside down.
Never once, in all his years as a front for corrupt officials, had a Sequence Ability user kept a promise to him—a lowly ordinary person. Never.
He'd run this café for years, scraping by as a puppet for the brass, and had only earned a handful of silver coins in total. Most of that had gone to bribing the endless stream of inspectors who dropped by. When all was said and done, the money Qin Siyang had just given him was more than he'd made from all his underhanded deals combined.
He'd been so wrong about Qin Siyang. Who could have guessed the man had been serious about paying him back?
Wang Defa clenched the silver coins tight in his fist, dazed as if waking from a dream, and muttered to himself: "I've truly met a living god!"
---
Qin Siyang pulled up the Echo Virtual Chatroom once more, typed "I'm a newcomer" in the public chat, then entered and exited five times in quick succession, waiting for the other party to contact him.
The ad blaring across the chatroom today was for virtual gambling, its slogan flashing in bright letters: *Roll the dice—today might be your lucky day!*
"Fitting slogan," Qin Siyang chuckled. He had no intention of joining the online gambling, but he couldn't deny his luck had been nothing short of extraordinary today.
The alias the chatroom had randomly assigned him this time was [Counterstrike]—a name that made him feel as if everything was fated, as if the universe itself was aligning in his favor.
A moment later, the chat box on the right side of the screen flickered to life.
Qin Siyang clicked it open. The message was from a user with the alias [Corner].
*You've left the money?*
Qin Siyang replied: *Yes.*
*Good. You can send your personal information now.*
*Though I don't think you'll be able to get that silver coin.*
[Corner] sent a smiley face emoji in response: *You think it's too crowded there for me to retrieve it without being seen? Don't worry about it. I have my ways.*
*No. I mean the person who went to get it for you might not make it back.*
The chat box fell silent for a long stretch.
Minutes ticked by before [Corner] finally replied.
*What do you mean by that?*
Qin Siyang thought for a moment, then typed a line with a smirk.
*He said his uncle's powerful, so I'd never dare kill him. So let's meet somewhere and talk about whether he lives or dies.*
*I'm curious—will you protect such a "clever" nephew of yours?*
This time, [Corner] went completely silent, as if the account had frozen. Thirty minutes passed with no reply.
Qin Siyang glanced at the screen; [Corner]'s name was still blue, not gray—proof the user was still online, just taking time to process what [Counterstrike] had said.
Qin Siyang propped his elbows on the table, his hands behind his head, and stared at the screen idly.
*I wonder what Chief Qian is doing right now?*
*Staring coldly at the screen? Or smashing everything in his room in a rage?*
Another ten minutes passed before [Corner] finally messaged him again:
*9 a.m. tomorrow. Meet at the unfinished building next to Safe Zone Exit 38324.*
*You seem to have the wrong idea about who's in charge here,* Qin Siyang replied. *I pick the time and place.*
[Corner] shot back an angry message at once: *What do you think this is? You're the one begging for my help, and you dare to be picky? If you hadn't come to me, I'd never have wasted a single word on you! We meet where I say, when I say! And bring my nephew with you! And don't you dare show up without the silver coin you owe me!*
Qin Siyang smiled. *Dear uncle of his, it's not about who types more words—it's about who holds the cards.*
*For starters… do you even know who I am?*
His bluff had been called, and [Corner] replied a second later, his frustration palpable even through the screen:
*Fine. You pick the time and place. But bring my nephew and the coin. No exceptions.*
*12 noon tomorrow. Second floor of the collapsed department store next to Safe Zone Exit 54320.*
*Good. And don't forget my nephew and the silver coin.*
Seeing [Corner] repeat the demand twice, Qin Siyang deigned to reply with a hint of amusement: *Sorry. I won't be bringing either.*
*What the hell do you want?! If I don't see my nephew and the coin, I'm not helping you with anything!*
*Uncle,* Qin Siyang typed, calm and unhurried, *you know full well who has the upper hand right now.*
*You're completely unreasonable!*
*Unreasonable?* Qin Siyang retorted. *To keep your identity a secret, to stop the Echo chatroom's backend staff from monitoring our conversation, I haven't even said your name. Do you still think I'm the unreasonable one?*
Qin Siyang had deliberately avoided calling him "Chief Qian" in the chat—he refused to take the risk of their messages being monitored.
As Qian Wendao had said during their first conversation, even the virtual internet could be watched. No matter how much the Echo Virtual Chatroom boasted about its absolute secrecy, blind trust was foolish.
Offline deals were the only truly safe ones—just two people, each holding the other's leverage. That was the only guarantee of no loose ends.
It was why Qian Wendao had only told him to leave the silver coin in a specific spot last time, never spelling out the exact nature of the deal, and had insisted on an offline meeting.
This time, too, Qian Wendao had only mentioned the time and place, not the details of what they'd discuss. Even if someone was monitoring the chatroom, they'd have no idea what their cryptic exchange was about.
The Echo Chatroom had tens of thousands of visitors every day. Monitors would only fix their attention on high-traffic, high-stakes deals—endless vague, cryptic conversations like Qin Siyang and Qian Wendao's were nothing more than background noise, not worth a second glance.
Ever since the lesson he'd learned with Liu Dazhi, Qin Siyang had made it his mission to leave no stone unturned, to be utterly airtight in every move he made.