Chapter 33: The Black Flower

Under the moonlight, an isolated luxury apartment building stood silently in the city center. In the dark, a big person wearing a mask and being careful came closer without making a sound. He was wearing a tight black suit that made him hard to see at night. He made his way up the emergency ladder at the rear of the high-rise, ascending fifteen stories with but a few agile leaps.

The shadow took a deep breath, then leaped gracefully, vaulting over the railing like a sleek cat. He had thoroughly investigated—the apartment's owner was attending a company banquet, leaving him ample time.

His knife slipped into the rear window, tapping gently. Minutes ticked by, the window remaining undisturbed. Frustrated, he removed his face cover, wrapped it around his hand, and shattered the glass with a single punch, pulling the window open.

His heart was beating fast, showing he wasn't as calm as he usually was. "I'm good at this," he told himself. "Why can't I stay as calm as my master even when things go wrong?"

He listened hard but heard only the howling wind. The city folks didn't seem bothered, and even the lights in the nearby apartment went out.

He slipped inside, rifling through drawers at the office desk, but the desired documents eluded him. Then, his eyes fell on the wardrobe's inner wall—a safe. Excitement flickered in the burly man's gaze.

He placed an empty cup against the safe door, pressed his ear to the bottom of the cup, and softly turned the combination lock. Shaking his head, he pulled out his knife and began digging. Ten minutes later, switching to the hammer he found in the room, he pounded relentlessly. To his surprise, the safe yielded.

Rubbing his hands, he mused, "Movies never get it right. Nothing can be heard from outside but a hammer do works better."

Carefully, he retrieved a yellowed page from the safe. The dense text and numbers confirmed it—the crucial document he sought.

He put the file in his bag, then checked the safe again to make sure he hadn't missed anything. As he looked over the safe, he saw a damaged area beneath where the hammer hit—a dark hole.

Listening for sounds, he heard distant sirens. Judging by the noise, the police would arrive in ten minutes. He switched to a chisel, prying up the warped panel. Beneath it lay a secret space, housing a sealed glass vial.

The big guy shone his flashlight, carefully retrieved a sealed cylinder bottle, and froze in place as he glanced at it. Suddenly, the distant sound of sirens filled the air outside the window. The big guy knew he couldn't delay any longer; tonight's commotion was too much.

Before the police car arrived downstairs, the big guy had slipped down the fire escape and disappeared into the night from a secluded alley, tossing his hat into a trash can, his shiny bald head vanishing into the darkness.

10 minutes later, in a closed business van, the bald man across from two others seemed very familiar with each other.

"Big brother, how did tonight's mission go?"

"Too easy, when your big brother takes action, the mission is like a gift on a platter." The bald man casually pulled out a sealed plastic bag from his bag, inside was a slightly yellowed paper, which he handed to the other person.

"Yeah, big brother is one of the top experts in the organization!"

"You got that right. If the organization needs to snatch a nuclear bomb from the bad guys next time, or save the world or something, just let me know, I'll handle it for you!"

"Big brother's the real deal in our team, that's why you're so cool!"

The two others handed the bald man a tin of coffee, and they started flipping through the yellowed piece of paper together, reading it aloud,

"My Dearest James,

Merry Christmas! Enclosed is Grandma's secret Christmas cookie recipe, just for you. Remember, you'll always be Grandma's sweet pumpkin.

With all my love,

Grandma"

"225g softened butter"

"200g sugar"

"..."

"Is this what you got from the safe?" Both people were on the verge of collapse.

The bald man felt a bit embarrassed and took out a sealed bottle from his backpack.

"check this out, then. I'm not sure what it is, but I found it hidden away in there."

Within the sealed container rested a piece of tissue, perhaps animal or even human. Atop it, a black flower bloomed, its petals quivering gently with the faintest movement, like the inviting lips of a seductress. It exuded an irresistible charm, blending danger with beauty, delivering a powerful sensory impact that held one in its captivating spell.

Immediately, it completely captivated the attention of the two opposite him. Its ultimate beauty, ultimate danger, mixed together, providing an ultimate temptation.

The two gripped the bottle tightly, unable to let it go for even a second.

"I don't know what this is, but if a scientist put it in a safe, it's not simple!" The big man tried to take it from their hands.

"Hey, big brother, you were supposed to get a diary, but you got a bio sample instead. You messed up a F-level job and got a C-level one?"

Their grip on the bottle tightened even further.

"I don't care about the danger as long as the pay is good."

The bald man started to pull their fingers off one by one.

"Big brother, we've said it many times, our missions are never about money. Of course, we're never short of money either. And ain't you monks all about that whole 'material world is an illusion' vibe?"

The bald man coughed, "Of course, I'm not in it for the money, so how much are we talking?"

He successfully get rid of a hand from the top of the bottle.

"Well, I reckon it's at least a hundred grand."

"Alright, sounds good. When can I expect payment?"

The big man, upon hearing this, released his grasp on the plundered item, but still refuse to step back.

The two opposite him groaned in frustration, "Once the higher-ups verify the situation, we'll transfer the money to your account as soon as possible!"

Feeling pleased, the bald man stepped out of the van and headed toward the nearby street food stalls. "Hmm, I might as well complete the task Master assigned while I'm at it. I'm practically a genius!"

As dusk settled, Mowen passed by the subway entrance, where the crowd still flowed. He noticed a sign propped up near the entrance, displaying small watermelons with a price tag of 30 dollars.

Mowen muttered, "My monthly salary is only 300 dollars, and they're charging 30 for a watermelon? Living in this big city isn't easy."

His mouth dry, he grabbed a slice of fresh watermelon, telling himself it wouldn't be too expensive. But as he turned to leave, the street vendor halted him, demanding 30 dollars.

"But it's meant to be 30 for a whole watermelon," Mowen argued. "This slice of watermelon can't even weigh half a pound."

"Who said it's 30 for a whole?" The vendor, a hefty guy, gestured to small letters tucked away at the bottom of the cardboard sign. "It says one slice."

"Hey, bro, 30 bucks for just one slice? That's daylight robbery, isn't it?"

"What's it to you? Quit the nonsense! You ate it; now pay up!" The burly man menacingly approached, brandishing a sharp watermelon knife. His eyes held a ferocious glint.

Behind him, several men who had been sitting against the wall stood up, their eyes equally fierce, like wild beasts closing in.

Mowen smiled helplessly, but his eyes betrayed no amusement—just a deep calm. Silently, he stepped back, pulled out 30 dollars from his pocket, and handed it over. As a newcomer to this unfamiliar place, he often faced bullying from ruffians. If money could solve the problem, it wasn't worth arguing.

The burly man stared into Mowen's eyes. This unusual calm, rather than panic or disgust, unnerved him. He accepted the money without further words.

Mowen sighed, feeling heavy for no reason. The pace of District 19's city life was too fast for him to adapt. He recalled the green, tree-lined riverbanks of his hometown, where he could sit with a fishing rod all day.

"This big city is something else," he muttered. "Even a watermelon costs a fortune, and I got swindled."

He remembered the recent altercation, feeling a sense of injustice. But he knew that arguing with these unreasonable people would only make things worse.

"Damn big city!" he silently vowed. "I won't let these money-hungry folks bully me anymore."

Continuing through the bustling crowd, Mowen pondered. Each morning, he witnessed the beautiful sunrise from the east, but he also encountered various difficulties. No matter what, he'd persevere, striving for his dreams.