The Return Of The God Level Assassin

1198  YUNYUE VS FENGHUANG (XXXIII)

SEATED at their table in the dining hall, Luo Yan idly stirred his tea while Shen Ji Yun watched the room. The clatter of plates and hushed whispers filled the space, but beneath the usual morning routine, an unspoken tension lingered. The passengers ate, but their eyes flickered with unease. Because everyone knew danger still lurked aboard the train.

With the train manager still failing to provide a proper explanation for why they couldnʼt stop, and a murdered woman discovered barely an hour ago, it was a wonder that anyone had the appetite for breakfast. Still, while some passengers clung to routine, the dining hall was noticeably emptier than the day before—a clear sign that fear and uncertainty were beginning to take hold.

Soon, the breakfast they ordered arrived. Luo Yan wasnʼt particularly hungry, but he had a role to play, at least in front of the other passengers. Picking up his spoon, he took a sip of his soup, his mind drifting to Holmes. The detective had declined their invitation to breakfast, opting instead to investigate the train for more clues. Before parting, he had instructed them to send a message through the train attendant—who, in this case, was Su Yuqi—should they need to communicate.

Neither he nor Shen Ji Yun was particularly surprised that Holmes had deduced Su Yuqiʼs involvement. After all, she had been the one to lead him to the observation deck in the first place. They agreed to his suggestion without hesitation—it would be far less suspicious for Holmes to be seen with a train attendant than with a duke or a young girl alone.

”Do you think Holmes told us everything he knows?” Luo Yan asked in a low voice, ensuring only Shen Ji Yun could hear.

Shen Ji Yun shook his head. ”Given Sherlock Holmesʼ nature, I doubt it. Besides, the game likely wouldnʼt program him to hand us too many clues—it would be unfair, almost like letting him solve the mystery for us.”

Luo Yan agreed. The game had to ensure a fair match—if Holmes revealed too much, it would disrupt the balance. Team Fenghuangʼs goal was to help Jack the Ripper claim his final victim, while their task was to aid Sherlock Holmes in stopping him. Both sides had their roles to play, and the game wouldnʼt make it easy for either of them.

”I think he caught onto something when I mentioned Mrs. Thompsonʼs reaction to your relationship with Mrs. Winslow,” Luo Yan said.

”I donʼt have a relationship with Mrs. Winslow—the duke does,” Shen Ji Yun clarified immediately. ”The only one I have a relationship with is you.”

Luo Yan chuckled in amusement. ”Of course, Iʼm your one and only. My mistake,” he said with a playful glint in his eyes.

Shen Ji Yun cleared his throat, feeling warmth rise to his face. If they were in reality, he would probably be as red as a tomato by now. He knew Luo Yan hadnʼt meant anything by his choice of words regarding Mrs. Winslow, but he still didnʼt like how it sounded. Because, just as Luo Yan had said—he was his one and only. It might be childish, but he couldnʼt help it. Whether NPC or real person, the only one Shen Ji Yun ever wanted to be romantically associated with was Luo Yan.

By now, Luo Yan understood exactly how his mind worked. That was why he had that amused expression on his face—as if he found the whole thing endearing. He was probably thinking about how adorable Shen Ji Yun looked at this moment.

Well, he didnʼt really mind. If his little quirks and silliness could make Luo Yan love him even more, then he was more than happy to indulge in them—again and again, for as long as Luo Yan would have him.

Not that he would ever let anything come between them. To him, this relationship wasnʼt just for now—it was forever. And he would make sure that Luo Yan never had a reason to doubt that.

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Ning Feng stared at Jack the Ripper seated across from him, meeting that cold, unreadable gaze. Logically, he knew the Ripper was nothing more than a collection of data, yet that did little to stop the unease creeping up his spine. There was something unsettlingly real about the way those eyes watched him—calculating, waiting. It felt as if one wrong word would be all it took for the Ripper to slit his throat without hesitation.

Although they were on the same side, there was no guarantee that the Ripper wouldnʼt turn on him or anyone from team Fenghuang. Ning Feng understood that all too well, which was why he had to tread carefully.

”You said you would help me,” the Ripper began, responding to Ning Fengʼs earlier offer. ”So tell me—what exactly does this ʼhelpʼ entail?”

”We will help you kill your real target on this train,” Ning Feng said carefully. ”With my assistance, no one will even suspect you. And my colleagues will make sure you can move through the train freely, without interference.”

The Ripper studied him, eyes sharp and probing, as if trying to read his intentions. ”And why would you and your so-called ʼcolleaguesʼ do that? The logical response to finding a killer is to turn them over to the authorities. So tell me—why are you doing the exact opposite?”

The Ripperʼs stare was unnerving. It wasnʼt just the emptiness in those eyes—it was the eerie stillness, the way they observed Ning Feng without emotion, without blinking, like a predator studying prey. Even though he knew this was just a game, just data stitched together into an NPC, the intensity of that stare made it hard to breathe, as if the Ripper could see straight through him and was merely deciding whether or not he was worth keeping alive.

Ning Feng smirked, projecting an air of confidence. ”Letʼs just say weʼre far from normal.”

The Ripper stared for a moment before a bloodthirsty smile flickered across thin lips. ”Good cooperation, then.”

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And just like that, the day flashed by and the second night arrived.