The country entrusted me to buy an aircraft carrier, Hou Liangping, do you dare to investigate?

Stepping into the store, the dim yellow light created a warm atmosphere. Various shoes were displayed all around, a dazzling array of colors. Huang Feipeng breathed a sigh of relief and walked towards the counter, ready to choose a suitable pair. The tension and anxiety in his heart seemed to gradually dissipate in the warm atmosphere. He tried to relax and began to carefully select a pair.

"Welcome! What kind of shoes would you like?" A young girl looked up and asked with a smile from behind the counter, her eyes sparkling with friendliness. Huang Feipeng felt a surge of gratitude, then softened his expression: "I'd like to buy a pair of sneakers, preferably as soon as possible."

The girl seemed to sense his urgency and immediately stood up to recommend shoes to him. "These shoes are all the latest models, very comfortable, and suitable for all kinds of sports," she said, showing off the shoes one by one in a sweet and friendly voice.

Huang Feipeng gradually calmed down and began to carefully select shoes. Looking at the new shoes, his mood relaxed unconsciously, and he focused on choosing the right ones for himself. It was as if all his worries had been left behind at that moment.

"How about these?" He pointed to a pair of black sneakers, a little hesitant.

"This is our latest style, extremely light and breathable, making it especially comfortable to run in." The girl's smile warmed Huang Feipeng's heart, and he couldn't help but think that perhaps this was the simple and direct happiness he needed on this night.

The next day, Huang Feipeng quietly entered the old town. The night wind was still biting, and he skillfully concealed himself in the dark alleyways, his gaze sharp as a knife. As he drew closer to the dock, the surrounding air seemed to grow heavier. He suddenly stopped, listening intently. Silence reigned, but his keen intuition told him that something lurked in the shadows. Just then, a faint metallic scraping sound rang out. Huang Feipeng's eyes flickered, and he abruptly rolled backward, only to see a gleaming dagger graz his ear, leaving a cold, sharp flash.

"A gift sent by a ghost to greet me?" Huang Feipeng sneered, his figure flashing towards the attacker in the darkness. His movements were as fast as a blur; in the blink of an eye, he had already gripped the attacker's wrist, and with a slight twist, a crisp cracking sound was heard. The attacker groaned in pain, but seemed unwilling to surrender, drawing a dagger from his waist and thrusting it at Huang Feipeng. However, his movements appeared incredibly clumsy to Huang Feipeng, who deftly dodged, increasing the pressure in his hand. Finally, the attacker succumbed to the pain and collapsed to the ground.

Huang Feipeng lowered his head, looking down at the fallen attacker. He asked coldly, "Who sent you?"

The attacker gritted his teeth, a stubborn look on his face, clearly not intending to speak easily. Huang Feipeng smiled slightly, a cruel glint in his eyes. He knew that threats and intimidation were ineffective against this kind of person, and he never liked wasting time. His fingers gently gripped the attacker's throat, applying slight pressure, his face maintaining a cold smile, as if this were nothing more than a trivial game. A flicker of fear crossed the attacker's eyes, but he remained stubbornly silent.

In that tense moment, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from afar, followed by a blinding beam of flashlight light. Huang Feipeng quickly slipped back into the shadows, rapidly analyzing the situation. The newcomers were clearly reinforcements who had been lying in ambush, and his mission was obviously not so simple—if Ghost had sent someone to make contact, why would he need to set up such a hidden trap?

He carefully observed the newcomers' movements and noticed they carried specialized communication equipment and weaponry, clearly indicating they had come prepared. This equipment was far beyond what ordinary street thugs would possess; it seemed more like the equipment of agents or mercenaries from some secret organization. His doubts weren't fully resolved, but Huang Feipeng knew it wasn't wise to linger. He quickly moved out of the shadows behind him, using the surrounding dilapidated buildings as cover, his steps light and agile, like a cheetah in the night, weaving through the abandoned alleyways.

He moved silently through the shadows and into the gaps in the light. Although his opponents were numerous, they clearly lacked his intuition and keen perception. Huang Feipeng kept taking detours, trying to increase the distance, but when he finally reached a safe distance, he suddenly sensed something amiss—on an abandoned building, a pair of calm eyes were locked on him. The feeling of being watched made Huang Feipeng subconsciously frown.

It was a sniper, quietly crouching on the edge of the roof, his sniper rifle coldly pointed in Huang Feipeng's direction. Huang Feipeng snorted coldly; he could sense the other's focus shifting to him, which was unusual—someone among his opponents was paying attention to his movements. Beside the sniper, the figure of another person was vaguely visible. That person wore a black leather jacket, their face indistinct, but their aura was sharp and undeniable.

Huang Feipeng realized this was the leader of the opposing side. The figure stood on the rooftop, silently watching Huang Feipeng, as if waiting for prey to walk into a trap. There was no anxiety in his eyes, but rather a calm, playful glint, as if everything was under control. Huang Feipeng suddenly laughed, a mocking glint in his eyes. The other side seemed to be intentionally revealing themselves; it was a warning, a declaration of war.

Without hesitation, Huang Feipeng swiftly drew a dagger from his waist, took a deep breath, and looked up towards the direction of the enemy's rooftop, his gaze fixed on the sniper's lens. In that instant, Huang Feipeng's aura suddenly turned cold and sharp; he was like an enraged leopard, his eyes blazing with an uncontrollable fighting spirit.

He had no intention of backing down; instead, he began to climb rapidly along the building's exterior wall. His movements were agile and precise, almost silent, like a bird as light as a swallow. His steps were firm, each one steady and powerful. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, but he was not affected in the slightest; instead, he became even calmer, frighteningly calm.

The sniper adjusted his aim, the scope coldly fixed on the direction Huang Feipeng was climbing, his gaze unwavering. Huang Feipeng's palms, gripping the dagger tightly, were slightly sweaty. He had to calculate every movement to ensure he remained hidden in the sniper's blind spot, but this prolonged, high-intensity climb was causing his muscles to ache. A flicker of weariness crossed his mind, and his gaze grew cold—this sniper seemed to lack any sense of propriety.