The Gemini Princess wants me to confess my feelings!

"The orphan left behind by the Kirihara family, is his name Akatsuki? So pitiful, only seventeen. The Kirihara couple are so cruel. What reason could they possibly have for thinking of taking their child with them to die?"

"It's said he died because of debt... I think the cause of death was carbon monoxide poisoning? I heard that all the doors and windows in his house were sealed up, it's a miracle he's safe and sound."

The fragrant smoke from burning incense filled the air as the monks chanted scriptures, creating a serene and solemn atmosphere. However, the chanting lasted a little too long, and some people couldn't stand still. Before the end, they relaxed slightly and quietly moved their tongues in the back.

The two women were talking about the deceased's family members in front of them. A boy, dressed in a faded black school uniform, stood straight in front of them. His handsome face was blank and expressionless, as if he was overwhelmed with grief and had lost his soul, which made people feel sorry for him.

The suppressed and restrained discussions were still inevitably overheard, prompting a woman dressed in black with an extremely refined face to glare at them with displeasure, at which point they awkwardly shut their mouths.

The young Kirihara Akira also heard it, but he didn't think there was anything "fortunate" about it.

On the day of his suicide, his parents sealed all the doors and windows of their house with duct tape, tricked him into taking sleeping pills, and then lit coal. He was not discovered until thirty hours later.

Thirty hours have passed; anyone in the house who was supposed to be dead would have been dead long ago. There's no miracle to speak of.

The one standing there now, expressionless, is nothing more than a stranger who has usurped the place.

He clearly remembered that his name was Song Xinyuan, a Chinese, forty years old, his parents had died early, he had no ties, and he had dedicated most of his life to a secret job that he was proud of. In the end, he was shot and killed while working.

When Song Xinyuan opened her eyes again, she was now Wuyuan Xiao, lying in a hospital bed, and was told about her parents' deaths.

His uncle used the meager inheritance left by the Kirihara couple to fund the funeral.

Preliminary investigations by the police concluded that the Kirihara couple committed suicide because they were burdened with an unimaginable amount of debt, suffering day and night under immense pressure, and ultimately took their own lives.

However, Song Xinyuan had all of Wuyuan Xiao's memories. He clearly remembered that although the original owner's parents never told him what they were up to outside, they had been preparing to transfer assets in the week before the incident, which meant they were going to run away.

Their anxiety, though constant, manifested as fear of something, not a despondent state of wanting to commit suicide.

The biggest question is that on the day of the suicide, they did not prepare a large amount of tape to seal the windows in advance, but instead prepared lunch first.

After the family finished enjoying lunch together, Kirihara Akira fell asleep.

It looks like the food was laced with drugs. The Kirihara couple ate with him, and judging from his physical reaction, there was a large dose of drugs in the food.

It's hard to imagine that after taking medication, the couple could still ensure they had enough energy to seal all the doors, windows, and gaps in their house before preparing coal and starting a fire.

What finally convinced Song Xinyuan—Wuyuan Xiao—that this was not a suicide was that someone began to follow him the day after he regained consciousness in the hospital.

One of the two men was involved in today's funeral; he stood at the very back of the crowd, dressed in a dark suit and wearing sunglasses.

The tracking methods were amateurish, showing signs of practice but not particularly sophisticated; they would be fine for dealing with ordinary people.

What's unsettling, though... is that this guy brought a gun today.

These two guys never usually carry weapons, so their behavior today is a very dangerous sign.

Are you trying to kill me to silence me?

In a flash of thought, Song Xinyuan didn't look at the follower, remaining expressionless and blank from beginning to end.

In the past few days, he made many attempts to contact his former colleagues who were Song Xinyuan, or to send intelligence through channels he was familiar with, but he quickly gave up.

Because this is not the world he is familiar with at all, but a parallel universe that is different in time, space and events.

The emptiness that welled up inside him when he discovered this completely overshadowed the danger of being followed, leaving him somewhat numb and resonating to some extent with the grief of the original owner's parents' passing.

Therefore, he appeared... numb.

Soon, the funeral procession was over, and the next part was the banquet for the guests. After this part, the first day would be over.

When Kirihara Akira's uncle came to give him a few words of advice, Song Xinyuan remained outwardly indifferent.

"I understand." Song Xinyuan interrupted his uncle's rambling, put his hands in his pockets, and said in a low voice, "I'm going to the restroom, I'll be back in a bit."

After saying that, he turned and walked out of the house, exhaling a deep, gloomy breath.

In the countryside during the rainy season, the sky was overcast and gloomy. Song Xinyuan stood there for a while, then walked towards the path in the light rain.

Sure enough, the man in black followed.

After passing benches and a few scattered pedestrians, and walking about 500 meters, Song Xinyuan was finally certain that there was only one person following him today.

The man's movements became increasingly hurried, his mind increasingly agitated, and his hand frequently reached for the gun tucked into his waistband.

"The movements are very amateurish," Song Xinyuan commented.

He decided to make one last attempt.

He deliberately stopped in front of the vending machine, hesitated for a long time before choosing a bottle of Dr. Pepper.

After opening the can and taking a sip, Song Xinyuan almost vomited.

What flavors do Japanese people have for drinks? Are they even fit for human consumption?

At this moment, Song Xinyuan could finally confirm that the person who came today was indeed there to silence him. It was probably to cover his tracks and reduce his visibility. Perhaps it was because of his days of surveillance that he had confirmed that Wuyuan Xiao was a seventeen-year-old high school student who was powerless, or perhaps it was both. So he only sent one person to follow him and wait for an opportunity to make his move.

Although the other party was carrying a gun, they must have been determined to act quietly rather than with a gun, as that would make too much noise.

Having figured this out, Song Xinyuan made a decision.

With one hand in his pocket, he casually turned into the narrow path between the nearby houses and the riverside fence, strolled along the riverbank, and finally stopped, pretending to be a sad and grieving teenager whose parents had passed away.

From this position, there's a corner that the other party can't see from their perspective, so if the other party pulls out a gun, Song Xinyuan has somewhere to hide.

Moreover, this body's memories are familiar with the terrain, so if I really want to run, the other party can't catch me.

If the other party wanted to get close... Song Xinyuan squeezed the cloth in his pocket, which contained a small knife.

This body is weak, but the enemy is incompetent and doesn't treat him like a human being. There's no need for a close fight; life and death will be decided in an instant.

The enemy's footsteps were rapid, almost as if they were "running".

Closer, even closer...

As the two were about to make contact, Song Xinyuan gripped the hilt of his knife, ready to strike.

The two figures almost overlapped, and then there was a soft "plop" sound!

Song Xinyuan's movements were as gentle as could be, like a sleepy passerby yawning and stretching, and then the sharp knife sank into the man's abdomen, as naturally as if the knife had always been there, harmonious, smooth, and flowing smoothly.

Before the man could even react, a near-shock-like bodily reaction sent him to the ground.

The man's eyes widened, and he struggled violently, trying to scream, but a white cloth tightly covered his mouth, leaving him only able to whimper pitifully.

Song Xinyuan pressed his index finger to his lips, signaling him to be quiet. Like stroking a vomiting drunkard, he gently and soothed his back: "Don't struggle. I made the incision in a good spot. As long as you don't struggle, there's no risk of excessive blood loss."

Whether it was his body's instincts at work or his chilling "comfort" that had an effect, the man actually stopped struggling violently. He clutched the knife stuck in his abdomen, gasping for breath through the rag, as if he was about to suffocate at any moment.

Song Xinyuan slowly moved the rag aside and smoothly took the gun from his waist.

The .38 caliber pistol is an old relic. It is said that many police officers on duty in Japan carry such a pistol, but most of them are not equipped with bullets.

Click—the magazine popped open, revealing it was full of bullets.

The black gun, its serial number sharpened... Song Xinyuan put down the gun and looked at the man: "Next, I'll ask you questions, and you answer them."

The coldness in Song Xinyuan's tone sent a chill down the man's spine. The man's "job" meant that he would always witness the lowest limits of humanity, that is, he would meet those vicious and ruthless desperados who didn't care about human life.

But he had never seen such a look before, a look that didn't care about human life.

Is this guy really a seventeen-year-old high school student?

Song Xinyuan didn't give him time to think or catch his breath, and asked, "Which side are you on?"

The man clenched his teeth and refused to speak.

Song Xinyuan rummaged through his belongings, fiddling with the phone he had found, and casually revealed his identity: "A gangster, I guess."

"I know... and you still dare to lay a hand on me!" the man said haltingly, his words a pitiful threat escaping through clenched teeth.

Song Xinyuan shook his head, then asked, "Why did you want to kill me?"

"Whoever can kill you... will be... Ruotou's assistant," the man said.

As the assistant to the head, he is the second-in-command within the Japanese "Yakuza" group, which is already a very important position.

It seems he's just a lackey, unaware of the deeper details; asking him would be pointless.

So Song Xinyuan asked him one last question: "Which group's assistant do you want to be?"

The man gave a bitter smile and did not respond.

"Is that so?" Song Xinyuan nodded, not annoyed, but instead gripped the hilt of the knife again and suddenly exerted force.

The man screamed like a pig being slaughtered: "They won't let you go!"

"I know," Song Xinyuan said calmly. "I'll kill you, then call the police. They'll believe that a child who just lost both parents was traumatized and accidentally killed a gangster under extremely coincidental circumstances. Combined with the gun on you, that explanation should be even more convincing."

I won't be in any trouble, but on the contrary, the police will notice that the underworld is after me, and they'll realize that my parents' deaths weren't simple suicides. Your body will give them the motivation to investigate.

"You might also think that your team has a lot of influence in the police station, maybe so, but what does that have to do with you? By then you'll be a dead man, your colleagues will thank you for your contributions, and then forget about you."

The man trembled violently, clearly terrified. He cried out in panic, "The Mishima Group! The Mishima Group!"

Song Xinyuan remained silent for a moment, then his expression turned icy cold: "You're not being honest. I gave you a chance. If you don't want it, then die."

"I'm telling the truth, please don't kill me!"

"Don't kill him! I have another way to confirm his identity!"

Two voices rang out simultaneously: one belonged to a man from the Extreme Path, and the other was a crisp, tender female voice coming from not far away.

Song Xinyuan squinted, turned his head, and saw a stunningly beautiful girl in black standing there.

She said earnestly, "I want to make a deal with you."