In the first-class lounge at the airport, Thomas sat on a leather sofa with a cup of cold coffee in front of him.
He stared blankly at the runway outside the floor-to-ceiling window, while low boarding announcents played in the background.
At that mont, the phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated, but no caller ID appeared on the screen.
He frowned, skillfully pressed the recording button, and answered the call in a low, cautious voice, "Hello, this is Thomas."
A young man’s voice ca from the other end, light-hearted yet with a hint of mockery, "Hello, Mr. Thomas, my na is Victor. I’m a... fugitive."
Thomas was stunned. Having been a civil servant for half his life, it was the first ti he had received such a candid phone call, almost thinking it was a prank from a bored kid.
"You probably aren’t familiar with my na," the other person paused, then slowly threw out a na, "but Ellison Parker..."
Hearing this na, Thomas’s heart suddenly skipped a beat, and he sprang up from the sofa as if electrocuted.
He urgently looked at several accompanying agents nearby and gestured for them to act imdiately.
The agents reacted swiftly, understanding the command to trace the phone signal just from the look in their leader’s eyes.
Unfortunately, they were in the airport lounge without any professional equipnt, fumbling to take out their phones to contact support and attempt to monitor Thomas’s signal.
"No need to panic, Captain," the voice on the phone remained calm, even slightly playful, "I’m watching you right now. Don’t use technical ans, okay?"
Thomas’s gesture froze in mid-air, slowly lowering it. He took a deep breath, his sharp gaze scanning the lounge.
The first-class lounge was quite luxurious, with a deep brown carpet that made no sound when stepped on, crystal chandeliers casting a soft glow, but the space wasn’t large.
There were few passengers, only a few business people in suits reading newspapers. He frowned and scanned the area but found no suspicious figures.
"Don’t bother looking; I’m not in the lounge." The voice sounded again, as if reading Thomas’s mind.
Thomas’s eyes narrowed, quickly turning to several surveillance caras in the corner. The lenses stared back at him like silent eyes.
There was no need to think; the airport’s internal network had definitely been hacked.
He clenched his teeth, quickly piecing together clues in his mind, and whispered, "You are the president of ’Holy Light’... Zhou Qingfeng."
"Wow, Captain, you’re impressive, even knowing to put my surna first." A soft laugh ca from the phone, "Yes, it’s ."
Thomas gripped his phone tightly, tentatively asking, "Are you surrendering?"
There was a two to three-second pause on the other end, the atmosphere suddenly becoming tense. Then Zhou Qingfeng’s voice sounded again, but with deeper implications:
"I’d rather talk to soone else; after all, your Ministry of Efficiency has more than just you."
Thomas imdiately panicked, much like a salesman desperate for a big deal, quickly lowering his stance, "Wait! Let apologize first. Just tell your demands. Talking to is fine too!"
"I want to join forces with you to deal with the ’Tree of Justice’." Zhou Qingfeng replied.
This ti, Thomas fell silent—you think you can just say team up, and we team up? Who do you think you are? A fugitive teaming up with our Ministry of Efficiency?
Zhou Qingfeng didn’t give Thomas much ti to think, continuing, "I know your Ministry of Efficiency has been secretly investigating the ’Tree of Justice’, hoping to achieve sothing.
But the Departnt of Justice and the Departnt of Holand Security always obstruct you, citing lack of law enforcent authority.
I also know you’ve traced back to but are helpless because ’Tree of Justice’ shelters within the bureaucracy.
But things are different now—I’ve decided to defect. Those bastards now want to kill and those around ."
Thomas took a deep breath, trying to suppress his annoyance, whispering, "Mr. Zhou, we need to talk face-to-face."
This ant talking in the Ministry of Efficiency’s interrogation room, where Zhou Qingfeng could qualify as a whistleblower, but his cri of assassinating the governor... that’s a sure conviction.
"No problem." As soon as these words fell, a figure slowly stood up from the corner of the lounge’s large sofa.
The person wore a low-brimd baseball cap, sunglasses covering most of his face, standing tall yet exuding secrecy.
He turned briskly and decisively, walking a few steps to stand before Thomas.
When he removed the sunglasses, revealing a pair of cold, familiar eyes, several agents from the Ministry of Efficiency instantly went on high alert, hands reaching for their holsters so fast it almost created a breeze.
The newcor was none other than Zhou Qingfeng. His figure blurred, swift as a leopard, suddenly closing in on the nearest agent.
The agent’s hand was on his waist, and, caught off guard, was forcefully hit back several steps, falling heavily onto the leather sofa with a muffled sound.
Imdiately, Zhou Qingfeng didn’t pause, deftly pivoting and extending his arm like lightning, unexpectedly pressing against another female agent’s chest.
The seemingly casual palm suddenly exerted force. The female agent let out a muffled grunt, her legs going weak, collapsing onto the sofa like a puppet with its strings cut.
The two agents farther away responded quickly, already drawing their guns and aiming, assuming a threatening posture.
Zhou Qingfeng’s figure flashed, using Thomas himself as a shield, cutting off the line of fire from the opposite muzzles, and forcefully pushed.
Thomas’s hefty body seed pulled by an invisible force, stumbling forward uncontrollably, crashing into the nearby glass coffee table, spilling the coffee across the floor.
When Thomas finally steadied himself and looked up, he saw that Zhou Qingfeng had already used his body as cover, swiftly and ghost-like seizing the last two agents’ guns.
The two pistols twirled nimbly in his hands, confiscated.
Looking again at the agent previously struck, sitting hunched on the sofa, cold sweat covering his forehead, pale as paper, hands clutching his chest, breathing rapidly and painfully as if his ribs were broken.
The female agent hadn’t risen since she fell, lying on the sofa, her chest slightly heaving, breath weak, already unconscious.
The whole action was swift, yet barely made any noise.
The lounge was dead silent, the luxurious decor contrasted eerily with the chaos. Only a waiter noticed the spilled coffee, quickly calling a cleaner to mop the floor.
Thomas steadied himself, staring at Zhou Qingfeng, shocked but also wary. He took a deep breath, puzzled, and asked, "How did you do that?"
"By taking action." Zhou Qingfeng sat down on the lounge sofa, "Your Ministry of Efficiency lacks initiative. I’m here to compensate for that."
He also looked at the two agents whose guns were seized, pointed to the seats, and said sternly, "You asked to co, and I ca.
So... sit down, okay? The guns, I’ll return them later. I hope you show so sincerity too, no tricks, keep hands where I can see them.
I’m incredibly fast at drawing guns, outmatching you in both strength and agility. Don’t embarrass yourselves."
At this mont, Zhou Qingfeng had absolute confidence, able to take down the few n before him even in a one-against-many situation.
The Ministry of Efficiency agents’ minds went blank, now finally believing that soone could ride a heavy motorcycle and easily kill the governor despite the heavy protection.
Because the man in front of them was extraordinarly skilled.
-----------------
Thomas kept his cool, first checking on the injured agents, confirming they only had temporarily compressed chests and would be fine soon.
He then sat down with a grim face, staring directly at Zhou Qingfeng, "Mr. Zhou, what can you bring us?"
"Call Victor." Zhou Qingfeng proposed a cooperation, "You provide information and tell .
For instance, you surely have a list of ’Tree of Justice’ mbers. I’ll take action to bring them in, finding solid evidence to give you a rit."
Hearing this, Thomas nearly burst with anger, "What do you take us for? Bandits? We are a legitimate investigation agency; we don’t act lawlessly."
Zhou Qingfeng sneered dismissively, "It shows you’re not professional enough. Legitimate investigation agencies don’t always follow the rules strictly."
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