Chapter Nineteen Bee Sting

On the edge of London's East End, there is an area that even the lowest-level thugs avoid.

This area was once a thriving textile factory district during the Victorian era, but now only ruins remain, blackened brick walls, and a lingering, musty, sewage, and despairing sour smell in the air.

Huddled in the corners of these ruins are the city's most utter outcasts—war widows, disabled veterans, orphans left unattended, and young girls like Qianxu Wuyun, whose origins are unclear.

She lived in a makeshift shack made of broken planks and rusty iron sheets, which barely kept out the wind but offered no protection from the biting cold. As dusk approached, the cold rain began to fall again, pattering against the fragile roof with a disturbing sound.

Qianxu Wuyun huddled in a corner on a pile of dirty rags, wrapped in a thin coat whose original color was indistinguishable, shivering from the cold.

She looked very young, probably sixteen or seventeen, with delicate features, but she appeared unusually pale and haggard due to long-term malnutrition and fear. Her large eyes, which should have been beautiful, were now empty and lifeless, hiding a numbness and fear that had been repeatedly worn down by life.

Her name is Qianxu Wuyun, but it is rarely mentioned. Here, she is more like a ghost, a silent shadow that may disappear at any moment.

Her past was a chaotic darkness. She only vaguely remembered a brief, hazy peace in a slightly warmer place when she was younger, but it was quickly replaced by sudden violence, displacement, and the loss of everything.

She couldn't remember what her parents looked like, only the cold iron chains, the dark ship's cabin, and those corners filled with filth and pain. How she ended up in this filthy ruin of London was a blur in her memory, leaving only the struggle driven by the instinct for survival.

"Hey, little mouse, what delicious food did you find today?" A sleazy voice rang out outside the shack, accompanied by a malicious laugh.

Qianxu Wuyun's body stiffened abruptly, and she instinctively shrank into the corner, hugging her knees tightly. It was a group of petty thugs from the neighborhood who enjoyed stealing and bullying the weak. Knowing she couldn't escape, she could only close her eyes tightly and pray that they were in a good mood and would leave quickly.

If those crooked planks could be called a door, the shack's door was kicked open roughly, and three ragged, drunken young men squeezed in, instantly filling the cramped space with a nauseating stench.

The one in the lead had a scar on his face and grinned, revealing uneven, yellow teeth.

"Tsk, still looking half-dead." The scarred man squatted down, his rough hands pinching Qianxu Wuyun's chin, forcing her to raise her head. "You're not bad looking, what a pity. I heard that the brothels over at 'Black Jack' are short of young girls like you lately. Want me to introduce you to a 'good place'? It's better than freezing or starving to death here."

Tears welled up instantly in Qianxu Wuyun's eyes—tears of fear and humiliation. She shook her head desperately, letting out sobs, but couldn't utter a complete plea for mercy. Long-term abuse and isolation had almost completely robbed her of her ability to speak.

"You don't know what's good for you!" Another thug impatiently kicked a broken box next to him, making a loud crash. Qianxu Wuyun trembled in fright.

Just as the scarred man's hand began to wander into her thin clothing, a calm, almost eerie voice, like a cold, fine needle, pierced the foul air in the shack:

"Her hands were not meant to serve scum like 'Black Jack'."

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried a strange penetrating power, causing the three thugs to freeze in place instantly. They turned around in astonishment, looking towards the entrance of the shack.

Suddenly, a figure appeared there. He wore an inconspicuous dark gray overcoat with the collar turned up, obscuring most of his face, revealing only a pair of eyes that gleamed with an eerie green light in the dim light.

He seemed to have materialized directly from the shadows, silent and radiating a chilling aura. Most striking was his exposed long hair, an extremely rare and vibrant emerald green, like that of a poisonous mushroom.

The scarred man was stunned for a moment, then became furious: "Who the hell are you? Mind your own business!" He gestured to the other two, and the three of them surrounded the uninvited guest in a fan shape, clearly wanting to drive him away.

The green-haired man didn't move, not even a change in his eyes. Just as the scarred man reached out to shove him, a green shadow flashed by with incredible speed. Before the scarred man could even see the exact movement, he let out a shrill scream, clutching his wrist and staggering backward, blood seeping from between his fingers.

Before the other two could react, they too were pierced in vital areas by something sharp, collapsing to the ground in agony, convulsing and unable to even scream.

The entire process took less than three seconds. Fast, accurate, and ruthless, with not a single unnecessary movement, like a venomous snake striking.

The green-haired man—Morse, or rather, "Dream Snake"—didn't even glance at the thug groaning on the ground; his gaze remained fixed on Qianxu Wuyun, who was huddled in the corner, nearly fainting from fright.

He stepped into the shack, his footsteps as light as a cat's. He took a clean white handkerchief from his trench coat pocket, squatted down, ignored the thugs on the ground, and gently wiped away any traces of blood that might have gotten on his hands.

"It's alright now." His voice remained calm, even carrying a hint of eerie gentleness, a stark contrast to the ruthlessness with which he had subdued the three men in an instant.

He reached out, not to touch her, but to place a piece of bread, still warm and wrapped in oil paper, on the tattered cloth in front of her. The enticing aroma of the food seemed so unreal in this space filled with the smells of mold and blood.

Qianxu Wuyun stared at him in terror, then at the bread, her body trembling even more violently. She didn't believe in kindness, especially in a place like this. This must be an even more terrifying trap.

Morse seemed to see through her thoughts. He didn't urge her, but just looked at her quietly. In the depths of his emerald green eyes, there was no emotional fluctuation, neither pity nor desire, only a cold scrutiny, like that of someone observing an experimental subject.

“Eat,” he said. “You need strength.”

Extreme hunger finally overcame fear. Qianxu Wuyun trembled as she reached out, grabbed a piece of bread, and wolfed it down, swallowing it down with tears mixed with the food.

Morse waited patiently until she finished eating before speaking again: "Do you want to leave here? Leave this place forever."

Qianxu Wuyun raised her head, looking at him through teary eyes, her gaze filled with bewilderment and a faint, incredulous hope.

“I can give you a completely new life.” Morse’s voice was deep and hypnotic. “A clean and warm room, enough food, decent clothes, and… protection. No one will bully you anymore.”

A spark of hope flickered in Qianxu Wuyun's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a deeper fear. There's no such thing as a free lunch; this principle was etched into her very being from the lowest levels of society. "...What...is the price?" she finally mustered the courage to ask in a hoarse voice.

A barely perceptible, cold smile curved Morse's lips. Good, she still possesses basic alertness and the ability to think; this is crucial.

“The price is that you need to do something for me.” He looked directly into her eyes, his tone as calm as if he were talking about the weather. “Something that only a young girl like you… with a clean background and a desire for change can do.”

He stood up, took a small glass bottle containing a colorless liquid from the inside pocket of his trench coat, and placed it next to the bread. “This is a medicine. Drink it, and you will fall asleep. When you wake up, you will be in a safe new place. You will have a carefully crafted, believable past. You will be trained on how to smile, how to talk, how to make yourself look…sunny, cheerful, like a harmless little bee.”

Qianxu Wuyun stared at the bottle of liquid, its surface slightly reflecting in the dim light, her body stiffening. A new name? A new past? Like a bee? She didn't understand, but it sounded a million times better than the hell before her. But… what about the mission hidden behind it all?

“What…is the mission?” she asked, trembling.

“You’ll find out then.” Morse’s voice was firm and resolute. “Right now, you only need to choose. Do you stay here and wait for the next, possibly worse, bullying, or freeze and starve to death? Or do you drink it and gamble on a chance to change your fate?”

He paused, a cruelly precise calculation flashing in his green eyes, and added the last sentence, like the final straw that broke the camel's back: "Remember, this opportunity is only available once. If you miss it, you'll forever be just a rat waiting to die in the sewers."

Qianxu's listless gaze shifted back and forth between Morse's cold green eyes, the unknown potion, and the thugs still groaning outside the shack. Despair and that faint, nascent longing for a "normal" life battled fiercely within her.

Staying here means certain death. Following this person might lead to an even deeper abyss, but at least... there's a glimmer of hope.

She remembered those cold nights, the agonizing beatings, the endless hunger and fear. She didn't want to go on like this anymore, even if there was only a one in ten thousand chance...

She reached out her trembling hand, which was shaking even more violently, and grasped the small glass bottle. The icy touch of the bottle sent a chill down her spine. She looked up at Morse one last time, trying to find a trace of deception or wavering in his eyes, but there was nothing, only a bottomless, icy pool.

She gritted her teeth, pulled out the stopper, and tilted her head back to gulp down the colorless and odorless liquid. The taste was a little strange, but not unpleasant. Almost the instant the liquid slid down her throat, a strong wave of dizziness washed over her, and her vision began to blur and spin.

Morse's blurry, green-haired face became the last image she saw before her consciousness faded into darkness.

Morse watched silently as the girl collapsed to the ground, unconscious. His face was expressionless, as if he had merely completed a handover. He bent down, carefully wrapped the girl in a clean cloth, and then easily lifted her up. Her weight was alarmingly light.

He walked out of the shed, not even glancing at the three thugs who were temporarily incapacitated on the ground. The rain was still falling, and the night was growing darker.

He held Qianxu Wuyun as if he were holding a weapon blank about to be sent to the furnace for reforging, and silently disappeared into the boundless darkness of London.

At the entrance to an abandoned underground pipe, a place even homeless people wouldn't approach, a black car without any markings waited quietly. Morse placed the unconscious Qianxu Wuyun in the back seat and nodded to the driver, whose face was blurred and who remained silent.

The car started silently and headed towards an unknown destination. There, a bright and cheerful false personality called "Little Bee" would be carefully cultivated. Meanwhile, Qianxu Wuyun's real pain and fear would be buried deep, becoming the initial venom for forging the "sting bee" that would one day pierce the heart of the Xuyue Organization.

The chess piece carefully chosen by the Dream Serpent has been placed. A drama disguised as sweetness, ending in destruction, is about to unfold.