Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1035 - 515_2
Then, he gently smoothed it with his fingers, making it blend perfectly with the surroundings.
If you don’t look closely, no one would notice these inconspicuous marks at all.
Layer upon layer, he repeated the same action.
At this moment, rather than resembling a gas company’s pipeline inspector, he looked more like a skilled craftsman meticulously repairing the flaws on the wall.
Just as he reached the corner of the fourth floor and was about to head to the fifth floor.
"Thud thud thud..."
A series of urgent footsteps suddenly echoed from upstairs.
Someone was coming down!
The middle-aged man’s chewing of gum came to an abrupt halt, and his right hand instinctively reached for the side of the toolbox at his waist.
His muscles instantly tensed, like a fully-drawn bow, seemingly ready to spring into action at any moment.
The footsteps got closer, accompanied by muttered words of annoyance:
"Damn it, how did I leave the documents at home... I’m going to be late now."
The voice sounded like that of a young man, revealing obvious anxiety and irritation.
The middle-aged man frowned slightly, not relaxing his vigilance.
He turned sideways, leaned against the wall, making way for half of the passage, while pressing the brim of his hat lower.
The next second.
A tall figure burst from the corner of the fifth floor.
It was a young man in a gray jacket, carrying a bulging blue canvas bag, holding what looked like a stack of documents in his hands.
Running while glancing at the papers in his hands, his hurried steps made him oblivious to what lay ahead.
The two met face-to-face in the narrow, dim hallway.
Because the young man was running too fast, coupled with the dim light, he almost crashed into the middle-aged man’s arms.
"Hey, watch out!"
The young man reacted quickly, exclaimed in surprise, and suddenly braked, his body veering to the side.
Although he managed to avoid the frontal collision in time, his arm still lightly brushed against the shoulder of the middle-aged man’s clothes.
In his swaying state, the young man’s hand shook.
Clatter.
The stack of documents slipped from his grasp suddenly, with several sheets fluttering to the ground.
Murderous intent flashed and disappeared in the eyes of the middle-aged man, his fingers already clasping the icy handle beside the toolbox.
Just as long as this young man showed any sign of abnormality or aggression.
He would strike without hesitation, slicing the opponent’s throat in an instant.
However.
After steadying himself, the young man revealed an apologetic expression and quickly offered an apology:
"I’m sorry! Did I bump into you, sir? I’m in a rush and wasn’t looking where I was going, terribly sorry!"
His tone was sincere, his demeanor anxious, looking just like a careless young employee rushing off.
A completely harmless appearance.
The middle-aged man’s taut muscles relaxed slightly, his gaze inadvertently swept over the documents scattered on the ground.
They were copies, with most of the content obscured.
The prominent golden emblem on top and the exposed words "Special Search Team," "Top Secret," "Operation Codename" had caught his attention like a magnet.
"Special Search Team personnel?!"
The perplexed thought flashed through his mind.
Before he could sort out his thoughts, a more astounding sight unfolded.
At the moment the young man bent down to pick up the documents and raised his head.
Through the dim light in the corridor, the middle-aged man clearly saw the man’s face.
His pupils suddenly shrunk to needlepoint.
The young man’s features were handsome, with gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, exuding a refined, scholarly air.
His skin, even in the dim light, glowed with a sheen akin to jade, so fair it seemed almost like a lady’s.
More importantly, he looked... seemed... just like the target in this operation.
Yet.
The young man before him was completely different in demeanor from the "tan-skinned, long-time exerciser, with a rugged aura" man described in the intel.
What was going on? Could it be twins?
The middle-aged man’s heart jolted, the swirling murderous intention instantly freezing, which he forcibly suppressed deep down.
The young man seemed unaware of any abnormalities with the "gas service repairman" before him.
He swiftly crouched, frantically gathering the strewn documents, tidying them up.
He even wiped the dust off them with his sleeve, as if they were priceless treasures.
After doing all this, he smiled at the middle-aged man:
"Sorry for startling you, sir. I’ll be on my way, you get busy!"
"No problem, watch your step next time."
The middle-aged man lowered the brim of his hat and replied in a deliberately husky voice, stepping aside to clear the way.
"Oh, sure, you be safe too."
The young man nodded politely, then squeezed past him, holding onto his documents.
"Wait!"
At that moment, a deep voice suddenly called from behind.
The young man instinctively stopped and looked back.
And just as he turned, the middle-aged man moved.
Swoosh!
Too fast!
The hand that had been hanging by his side shot out like a bullet.
His fingertips sliced through the air, creating a sharp gust aimed straight at the young man’s face.
This strike was extremely fierce, so fast it almost left an afterimage in the air.
If it were a trained fighter or a perceptive mutant, their body would instinctively block or retreat.
However, faced with this sudden deadly attack, the young man stood motionless as if his reflexes had been cut off.
The sharp wind from the fingers even messed up the hair on his forehead and stung his skin.
Yet his clear eyes were filled only with puzzlement, nothing but confusion.
No dodging, no fear, he didn’t even blink.
It was the kind of slow reaction only an ordinary person with no sense of danger would have.
Just as the fingers were about to brush against the tip of his nose.
The middle-aged man’s wrist flipped in a bizarre way, and what were murderous claws transformed instantly into gentle pinching fingers.
Upon closer look, his fingertips were now holding a thin piece of white paper.
All the killing intent and sharp winds disappeared at that moment, as if they had never existed.
"You dropped a piece of paper."
The middle-aged man looked into the young man’s eyes for two seconds, speaking slowly with a voice that was calm and unruffled.
The young man was stunned for a moment, then realized, gratefully taking it:
"Oh, thank you, thank you, I was so careless, sir, you’re really a good person!"
"Just doing my part, you can go now."
The middle-aged man waved his hand expressionlessly.
"Alright, thanks, if we meet again, I’ll be sure to properly thank you!"
The young man tucked his documents into his bag, nodded politely with a smile, and bid farewell again.
The middle-aged man didn’t continue to watch him, but walked straight upstairs.
As they both turned around, their backs toward each other in that instant.
The originally honest or calm look in their eyes revealed a faint, almost imperceptible chill.
The young man quickly sped down the stairs like a gust of wind, muttering to himself:
"I gotta hurry, Director Ling is waiting for me to submit the report..."
The seemingly frail figure soon disappeared into the spiral shadow of the staircase.
Listening to the footsteps quickly fade away, the middle-aged man’s eyes narrowed slightly, and then he quickly walked to the window in the stairwell corridor.
The glass there had long been shattered, leaving only an empty frame.
He skillfully sided up into the visual blind spot against the wall.
With the aid of the shadows, he squinted, locking onto the entrance of the building below through the frame.
A few seconds later.
The young man in the gray jacket rushed out of the entrance.
"Beep beep—"
From the corner by the roadside, a black SUV’s hazard lights blinked on at the perfect moment.
The car door opened, and the young man quickly slipped in and took the driver’s seat.
The middle-aged man chewed gum, his eyes flashing with confusion and lack of understanding.
He couldn’t make heads or tails of what he’d just seen.
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the turmoil in his mind.
Then he raised his hand, pressing on the mini earpiece hidden near his ear by his hair, and spoke softly:
"Night Owl, I’m now at the location of Suspect Target No. 2, and the situation has changed."
"The target just left and got into a black SUV, license plate DD90F38. It seems like there’s something urgent to handle."
"I suspect him, but didn’t act rashly."
There was a brief buzz of static from the earpiece, followed by a brisk voice.
"Ghost Scythe, follow him immediately."
The middle-aged man furrowed his brow:
"But, this person is very strange."