Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1039 - 517

"Screech—"

The tires rolled over the rough cement ground, making a grinding sound.

The black SUV stopped in front of the tallest unfinished building.

The headlights went off, plunging the surroundings into darkness.

Fang Cheng opened the door and got out of the car, gripping the blue canvas bag tightly.

He looked around, seeming to confirm his location.

Then, he stepped through the knee-high weeds, walking into the dark building ahead.

A few hundred meters away, a silver-gray Jetta silently slid behind a dirt hill and stopped.

Ghost Scythe pushed open the car door, carrying a toolbox, and deftly jumped out of the car.

He had already shed his blue gas company uniform, revealing the black combat suit underneath.

The tight fabric outlined his muscular figure, showing his remarkable physical strength.

He didn’t rush inside but first crouched down, checking the ground tire marks, then listened to the surrounding sounds for a moment.

Aside from the wind noise and the occasional distant insect chirping, there was no sign of enemy ambush.

Ghost Scythe coldly chuckled, then drew a black tactical dagger from his waist, gripping it reverse-style in his hand.

Then, he crouched, tiptoeing silently toward the dark building that had swallowed the target’s figure.

The night wind whined, passing through the empty window frames of the unfinished building with a low moan.

Ghost Scythe moved like a weightless ghost, silently slipping into the enormous concrete skeleton.

Up ahead, heavy footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell, accompanied by Fang Cheng’s slightly hurried breathing.

Because the unfinished building had no elevator, the "Special Search Team Commissioner" could only use his legs to climb up step by step.

"Huff... Huff..."

Listening to the noise from above, Ghost Scythe couldn’t help but curl his lips in disdain.

Just an office pundit; having climbed only thirteen floors, his stamina was already waning.

His steps were light, his figure flitting through the darkness like a bat.

Every time he passed a floor, he skillfully opened the toolbox, taking out pieces of gray-brown clay explosives.

His fingers flew, kneading them into lumps.

The explosives were perfectly embedded in wall cracks or shadows of exposed steel bars, then covered with a layer of ash.

The movements were smooth and flowing, without any extra noise.

"Just a guy who can analyze intelligence, choosing such a desolate place to meet for so-called confidentiality..."

Ghost Scythe sneered inwardly, silently mocking:

"Watched too many movies? Well, it works nicely as your natural grave, saving me the effort of cleaning the scene."

As the floors climbed higher, the clay stock in the toolbox dwindled.

Ghost Scythe had to slow the frequency of placement, setting only one blast point per floor.

Finally, the footsteps ahead stopped.

Ghost Scythe looked up, reaching the thirty-third floor, the top floor.

Here, the wind blew from all sides with no walls to block it, only bare load-bearing steel columns standing.

Beneath was a rough concrete floor, above was an unfinished ceiling.

The upper wind carried a chill, rushing in unimpeded, howling loudly.

The distant television signal tower’s red aviation lights rhythmically blinked like a demon’s eye peering out.

Fang Cheng stood at the edge of the roof terrace, his coat flapping in the night wind.

The blue satchel was tossed beside a column.

He occasionally glanced at his watch, sometimes pacing back and forth, the shoe soles scratching the ground, sounding particularly shrill in the silence.

Anxiety, unease, all these emotions showed on his face, making him appear completely unguarded.

Ghost Scythe hid in the shadows behind a load-bearing column.

To avoid being detected by the opponent, he deliberately maintained a distance of over fifty meters.

He pressed his earpiece, reporting in a low voice:

"Night Owl, I’m in position. The target is on the top floor of the highest building in the East Suburb Unfinished Building Area; the rendezvous person hasn’t appeared yet."

"Received, keep an eye on him."

Night Owl’s voice came through the earpiece:

"Confirm the rendezvous person’s identity before making a move; if possible, capture him alive."

Ghost Scythe squinted, preparing to adjust his observation angle.

Suddenly, Fang Cheng, who had been pacing back and forth, abruptly stopped his steps.

He seemed to sense something, his body stiffly turned around.

His gaze shot piercingly towards the load-bearing column where Ghost Scythe was hiding, his voice trembled with nervousness:

"Who?! Who’s there?"

Ghost Scythe’s heart slightly jumped.

From such a distance? And with the wind so loud, he can actually hear?

Is he bluffing? Or is this guy’s hearing really that sharp?

Ghost Scythe didn’t move, holding his breath, every muscle locked tight, reducing his presence to the minimum.

"Come out! I saw you!"

Fang Cheng’s voice was a few octaves higher, sounding somewhat intimidating yet lacking confidence.

He hastily pulled out a black semi-automatic pistol from his lower back.

He gripped it tightly with both hands, the muzzle trembling as it pointed towards Ghost Scythe’s direction, his steps tentatively moving forward.

"If you don’t come out... I’ll shoot!"

The air was taut to the extreme.

"Bang!"

A gunshot suddenly exploded.

The bullet hit the edge of the load-bearing column, sending fragments flying and sparks scattering.

Ghost Scythe’s eyes narrowed coldly.

Since he was exposed, there was no need to hide any longer.

He slowly walked out of the shadows, brushing off the stone chips on his shoulder, looking at the young man with a face full of terror:

"Your hearing’s pretty sharp."

"I intended to let you live a few minutes longer; but since you’re so eager to die, I’ll grant you that wish."

Fang Cheng looked at the eerie figure that had suddenly appeared, involuntarily stepping back half a step, the muzzle shaking even more violently: