It’s not even 5:30, and I can get off work normally again! I’ve already composed myself by the time when I walk out of the police station, feeling happy that I don’t have to work overtime today.

Before I left in the afternoon, I communicated with the administration department and was told that I didn’t need to return to the company. After all, we didn’t know how long the meeting would take.

What if Officer Deng got me to stay for dinner, sing some karaoke, and enjoy a spa, right?

Although the probability of this happening is low, even if it wouldn’t happen to me, I still have to be prepared.

The distance from the old estate where my rented apartment is to the police station is shorter than it is from my company, but I still chose to take public transport, because the company doesn’t reimburse the transportation fees for returning home.

Metro line 3,600 meters… Bus 72, 150 meters… I take out my phone and search for a route home.

After careful consideration, I choose to take the bus.

The weather is hot in the summer, so it’s best if I can minimize the steps taken.

As I wait at the bus stop for the bus, I can’t help but doubt my life.

I’m already a real, powerful, and extraordinary assassin. Why do I have to live like a slave of society?

But I can’t get any money without work.

Assassins also need to save money to buy a house, food, and clothes!

Sigh, at times like this, it should be like a game. Give me an assassin manager and help me gather missions. After confirming how evil my target is, I’ll shave my head and flash through the crowd. No, being bald is too ugly. Forget it…

What can I do?

Record videos of extreme sports?

I still have to practice and learn. I’ve never paid attention to it before…

Actually, I can consider joining the police academy. As an assassin, I’m capable of capturing thieves and scammers. I won’t disappoint with my abilities. The only problem is that I’ve heard that a policeman’s income isn’t too high.

Perhaps it’s better after the probation period?

As I seriously consider the future, I board the bus. I hold the handle and notebook with one hand, and I pull out my phone with the other.

I’m a refined person. I definitely won’t blast out any sounds in public. I don’t have wireless earphones, so I can only browse Weibo and HUPU, an online sports community website.

As the bus drives, it suddenly stops. The driver’s voice sounds from the speaker.

“Get off the bus. There’s a malfunction. Wait for the next one.”

The passengers curse as they get out of the bus. I’m among them as I sigh at my bad luck today.

There’s only one stop left. There’s no need to wait. I’ll just walk back. I open the map app and confirm my current location.

If I knew this would happen, I might as well have taken the subway!

I follow the GPS—walking straight, taking a bend, crossing the street—to the old estate I live in.

At this moment, I see a five or six-year-old girl jump out from the roadside, and an SUV is speeding over.

“…” I’m stunned at first, but then I realize that I’m an assassin, an expert that surpasses ordinary people.

Without any hesitation, I run towards the girl.

Seeing that I might not make it in time, I exert strength into my legs and kick out, relying on my assassin’s ability to unleash all of my strength in one strike to pounce forward.

During this process, I feel like a sharp arrow that had been shot from a bow.

In the blink of an eye, I lunge for the little girl and hug her.

Then, I straighten my back and quickly adjust my body structure, making myself as light as a feather.

The SUV finally stops. I take a few steps to the side and steady myself.

To be honest, I was hit, but because I made myself seemingly weightless, I didn’t suffer any damage.

“Are you alright?” The SUV driver gets out of the car and frantically asks.

His face is drenched in sweat.

“I’m fine. It was a close one.” I put down the dazed little girl and pat her shoulder.

She has long, jet-black hair which makes her qualified to be a model in a shampoo commercial.

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“That’s good, that’s good.” The SUV driver is relieved to see that I didn’t dirty or injure myself.

At this moment, a middle-aged man rushes out from the side of the road.

When he sees that the little girl is fine, he’s obviously relieved.

His skin is bronze in color and he has soft facial features. He has a pair of eyes that are closer in color to brown. They appear to have been through a lot.

“Thank you, thank you. Are you okay?” he asks, concerned.

“No, my luck isn’t bad. I just happened to avoid the collision,” I reply with a smile, inexplicably in a good mood.

I’ve finally used the ability belonging to an assassin.

The SUV driver points at his license plate.

“Contact me if you have any problems. I still have something to do, so I’ll be leaving first.”

The middle-aged man nods before saying to me,

“Why don’t you come to my shop to have a drink to calm yourself down?”

For some reason, I feel a sense of closeness with him. And since it’s free, I don’t reject him.

“Okay.”

As I speak, I pick up the black notebook.

After leaving the road and passing through the non-motorcar lane, I see this gentleman’s shop.

This is a themed bookstore. It’s renovated to look like a coffee shop. The other door leads to a nearby park with a wooden swing hanging on it.

“Don’t wander around in the future. It’s very dangerous. Come on, thank Uncle.” The bookstore owner pulls the little girl over.

“Call me Brother. Don’t make me sound so old,” I joke.

“Thank you, Brother.” The little girl follows his instructions.

Without waiting for my reply, she cleverly says, “Then my father is your elder!”

Damn, did I just get taken advantage of… I can only smile helplessly.

The bookstore owner immediately asks, “What would you like to drink?”

“A cold beverage would do.” I’m not a picky eater.

“Okay.” The bookstore owner points at the surrounding bookshelves and says, “You can also pick a book to read.”

“Okay.” As he mixes the cold beverage, I curiously walk to the bookshelf to see what’s on it.

Groselle’s Travels

Book of Secrets

Roselle and his 100 Mistresses

The Self-Cultivation of Evil Gods

How to Make the Believers Offer Money

What kind of books are these? I’m stunned as I read them. Finally, I choose the seemingly normal Groselle’s Travels.

Just as I find a seat and sit down, the bookstore owner walks over with a glass.

The drink is brownish-red in color, and there’s quite a few pieces of ice in it. After drinking it in one gulp, it’s slightly sour and sweet. It’s cold and very refreshing. Great for the summer.

“Not bad,” I praise.

The boss doesn’t say anything else and returns to the cashier.

I then leisurely lean back in my chair and flip through Groselle’s Travels. From time to time, I take a mouthful of the cold beverage, feeling very pleased.

After a while, the girl runs to the back door and shouts, “Daddy, Daddy, I want to sit on the swing.”

The bookstore owner sighs and walks over with a smile.

I smile and take another sip of my drink. I can’t help but sigh.

An afternoon like this is really nice…

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