[I'm afraid you won't see the parts at the back, so I'm posting the parts at the front.]
[First, let me kowtow a few times to all the big shots who clicked in.]
This humble writer is deeply sorry to all the great ones here. I kowtow to you all with a resounding "thump thump thump!"
[The initial writing was terrible, so I hope you experts who clicked in will forgive me. In the early stages, if your poison resistance isn't very high, you'll definitely get poisoned. Scroll down and take a look; I believe you experts will see the improvement.]
Of course, if you can't stand it, you can just leave quietly.
Regardless, I, a clueless kindergarten author, am deeply grateful to all the big shots who clicked in.
Meeting is fate. Regardless of whether you esteemed individuals dislike my book, I wish you all abundant wealth, smooth career advancement, harmonious and happy families, and long and healthy lives for your elders.
Seriously, even if you guys have maxed out your poison resistance, I doubt many of you could survive that long.
Hopefully things will get better later. Anyway, I'm sorry to all the experts who clicked in; I've wasted a few precious minutes of your lives.
Whenever I see a new face, I say this to them... How humble.
[This humble author can guarantee that the beginning is terrible, but there will absolutely be improvement later on, especially in the latest chapter, where the progress is significant (compared to the beginning). If you really can't persevere, you can go to a pirated version and check out the end. If possible, please come back and subscribe again.]
[This humble author is truly kneeling down to beg for your forgiveness, and sincerely apologizes to everyone who clicked in. I'm so sorry!!!]
..............
Inside the room, only an oil lamp emitted a faint light.
The flickering lamplight cast a warm glow, revealing the objects on the wooden table: a laptop, a dagger with a health bar, two Beretta 92Fs with silencers, and a Desert Eagle engraved with intricate patterns.
On the wooden table, a pair of hands were slowly wiping a Desert Eagle with a piece of brocade.
Under the lamplight, the Desert Eagle flashed a silver streak, exuding a dangerous aura.
The cold touch made the owner of those hands feel extremely comfortable.
After cleaning the gun, his hands gently stroked the gun body, from the muzzle to the trigger, leaving no inch untouched.
Guangyou sighed and placed the artistically crafted gun on the wooden table made of rosewood.
With his left hand, he turned on a switch under the table, and instantly the room was brightly lit.
The room wasn't large; it contained a table, a cabinet, and a bed. The only modern amenities were a laptop computer on the table.
"Come out, I know you've come."
As soon as he finished speaking, a figure appeared in the seemingly empty room.
Upon closer inspection, the man had a buzz cut, was wearing a well-tailored suit, and was also wearing white gloves.
The man's blue eyes stared at Guangyou, who had his back to him. After hesitating for a moment, he plopped down on his bed.
After a long while, the man let out a long sigh: "You should leave quickly, the farther the better."
Guangyou slowly turned around, his originally cloudy eyes gradually brightening, but only for a moment. In the next second, he returned to his calm and expressionless face and said indifferently, "If I leave, you will die."
The man had clearly considered the problem. He pursed his already thin lips and advised, "I'm fine. I'm still useful to them. You can go now."
"If you don't kill me, they'll send more people. You can't escape it, there's no point in doing so."
Guangyou's tone was very calm, as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with him at all, "To die at your hands is at least better than to die at the hands of those people."
After speaking, Guangyou quickly turned around, picked up the Beretta 92F from the table, and fired randomly around the room.
The person sitting on the bed just watched Guangyou's seemingly crazy actions without even frowning, even when a bullet whizzed past him.
He fired a few shots randomly, and then tossed the gun to the man sitting on the bed.
Then, Kwang-woo got up and made a huge mess of his room, as if it had been burgled.
Finally, he sat back down in his chair, his eyes, still clouded beneath his disheveled hair, saying, "It's your turn."
The man, wearing white gloves, pointed a gun at Guangyou, his tone tinged with guilt and dissatisfaction: "Why bother, teacher?"
"What's meant to happen will happen, and besides, I've had enough of living..."
Guangyou turned around, picked up the Desert Eagle on the table, stroked it once more, and then tossed it to the man along with Beretta. "I've owned this gun for many years, but I've never fired a single shot with it. From now on, it's yours."
The man took the gun, and a rare flicker of emotion appeared in his eyes.
The next second, Beretta's gun was already pointed at Kyou, who was sitting in the chair.
"Bang!"
After a gunshot, a bloody hole appeared on Guangyou's forehead, from which blood flowed freely...
Seeing this scene, the man felt even more guilty. He lowered his head and reached into his pocket to take out a gemstone necklace.
That gem lacked the brilliance of the others; it seemed covered in dust and looked no different from anything sold at a street stall.
The man took a few steps forward, put the gemstone necklace on Guangyou's wrist, and put the gemstone inside his clothes.
"Returning the item to its rightful owner, farewell..."
...
Japan in another world
In a dilapidated courtyard in Edogawa Ward, the courtyard is run-down but very clean.
"Creak..."
An old man pushed open a somewhat dilapidated door: "Come out, my little darlings! I've brought back another little brother!"
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