Chapter 41

04:45, fire on the top floor of Tsar.

As the magnesium thermoelectric agent burned out, the steel frame emitted a dying "crack," like the last bones of an old casino loosening.

After throwing away the gun, Yu Chen turned and walked down the fire escape ladder. His black fireproof suit was hardened by the heat, and dust fell with every step.

She didn't turn around, but heard a muffled "boom" behind her.

The entire dome collapsed, and the flames were instantly swallowed up by the floorboards, like a dragon trapped in an iron coffin.

The fire siren drew nearer, the red lights flashing, but they could no longer illuminate Vicky's golden canine teeth, nor the ash key in her hand.

The fire went out;

The debt is settled.

The person is gone.

05:10, unmanned dock.

The seal engraver leaned against an old shipping container, his dark circles under his eyes appearing a deep purple by the distant fire lights, and he was still chewing sugar-free gum, as if adding a rhythm to the night.

Beside his feet was a tiny aluminum suitcase—

The outer shell is mottled with salt stains from being soaked in seawater, but the four corners are meticulously reinforced, like a "storage box for the rest of your life" prepared in advance.

Yu Chen approached, peeled off the fireproof suit, and threw it into a pre-prepared chemical container.

The fabric was instantly engulfed by the corrosive liquid, leaving not even ashes.

She only took three things with her:

USB drive (list of moles, copy of debts, revenge completed marker)

A blank death certificate (No.: LAC-2025-001, expired).

A tiny sapphire—a Tsar Casino work brooch, darkened by the fire, yet still chillingly cold.

She placed the three items into the aluminum suitcase one by one, her voice so low it was barely a whisper:

"The fake is dead, the real one is alive, and the rest of its life is in the box."

At 05:30, the submarine silently surfaced.

The stamp is like spitting chewing gum into the sea, like delivering the final poison pill to Las Vegas.

He turned his head and looked at Yu Chen—

Her long, black hair danced wildly in the sea breeze, like a fire that had been rekindled but was no longer scorching.

His voice was unusually mild, asking only one question:

"Where to go next?"

Yu Chen held the aluminum alloy suitcase in his arms, as if he were holding a gun with its fuse removed, but he was no longer afraid of it exploding.

She looked up at the horizon bathed in the light of dawn, her voice soft yet bright:

"Go to a place with a lighthouse."

"No more revenge, no more hiding,"

"Just be Yu Chen."

06:00, dawn breaks.

The submarine silently sailed into the open sea, like lighting the first white lamp for the rest of its life that no one knew about.

The sea was calm, like paper that had been baked by fire, finally cooling into smooth ash.

Yu Chen sat at the hatch, pressing the tiny sapphire against his fingertip, his voice barely audible:

“Vicky, the door you closed—”

I opened it with fire, locked it with a gun, and took it away in a box.

"Now, the door belongs to me, and the rest of my life belongs to me."

At 07:00, the sun fully rose above the sea.

The aluminum alloy briefcase was placed into the submarine's storage compartment, and the lock clicked, as if sealing the final seal on four years of pursuit, eighteen failures, a fire, and a bullet.

Yu Chen pulled her hat brim down as low as possible, but no longer hid the ends of her hair—

There, a faint red glimmered in the morning light, like lighting the first beacon for the rest of his life, unknown to anyone.

Her voice was so soft it was almost a whisper, yet it shone like the dawn:

"Cheng Yan, everything is ready."

"Now, I am Yu Chen, and I am just Yu Chen."

The sun continued to rise, like a bell ringing prematurely—

This time, no one let go.

No one will seek revenge anymore.

No one is hiding anymore.

There was only one aluminum alloy suitcase.

And a very faint red,

On the high seas, they quietly returned to their boxes.