Chapter 32: "An Adorable Person"

Heyue City Sixth High School.

At noon, as the school bell rang for dismissal, groups of students began heading toward the school gate. Faced with such a crowd, not only did Ma Cheng feel his scalp tingling, but even Mo Qing and the squad who had come to assist were feeling uneasy.

“Tell me the truth—how reliable is your source? And with so many students, why did you only notify our squad?” Mo Qing demanded, glancing at Ma Cheng and pulling out his phone to call for more support.

Ma Cheng pressed down Mo Qing’s hand, stopping the call, and shook his head gently. “If there are too many people, those bastards might notice. There may be a lot of students, but I’ve made arrangements ahead of time. Trust me—I’m even more concerned for these children’s safety than you are.”

Mo Qing hesitated, caught between doubt and trust, but ultimately did not insist further.

“So, with just our two squads—thirty or so people—how can you guarantee nothing will go wrong? Do you even know how many cult members are involved?” Mo Qing pressed, his expression grim.

Ma Cheng said nothing more. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the throng of students nearing the school gate and pulled out his walkie-talkie.

“Squad One, cover the left side of the gate. Squad Three, cover the right. For the next two minutes, anyone who comes within ten meters of the school gate—take control of them!”

It was clear from his tone that Ma Cheng himself was deeply anxious. The students were streaming out, and any mishap here could have unimaginable consequences. The cultists lurking in the crowd clearly had some nefarious purpose. Normally, this would have been reported to the Investigation Bureau headquarters—Director Lin would have personally intervened. But after losing a teammate in a previous operation, Ma Cheng’s hatred for these criminals had only deepened.

He was determined to crush these rats himself.

...

The only fortunate aspect was that Heyue City Sixth High School was exclusively a high school, so few parents came to pick up their children. Moreover, with the graduation exams just completed at the start of the month, only first- and second-year students remained on campus. This did somewhat ease the difficulty for Ma Cheng and Mo Qing.

The walkie-talkie soon crackled with responses.

“Squad Three reporting: all six suspicious individuals on the right side are locked in. Ready to act.”

“Squad One: four on the left, under control as well!”

Ma Cheng and Mo Qing both breathed a sigh of relief.

“Let’s go too. Damn it, no mistakes this time!” Ma Cheng growled at Mo Qing, then stepped out of the van.

The two approached the school gate from opposite sides, cigarettes in hand, strolling casually. To an observer, they might have looked like idle drifters who often loitered around schools.

...

At the same time—

“This time, the glory of the Sacred Church rests on you, Mr. Peng Li!” In a nearby alley, a burly middle-aged man spoke solemnly to another man with a mustache.

The mustached man’s expression grew grave. “Rest assured, sir. The glory of the Sacred Church will be spread by me! Let me be the one to awaken these ignorant masses.”

He tucked a package inside his coat and hurried out of the alley, eyes fixed on the crowd at the school gate, head bowed as he made his way forward.

...

“The students are coming out. Now!” Ma Cheng’s eyes burned red as he barked quietly into his walkie-talkie.

Almost as soon as Ma Cheng spoke, some twenty or thirty agents moved in tandem by the school gate. Heyue City, as the capital of Anqing Province, had elite squads under the Investigation Bureau, all trained martial artists, many with military backgrounds.

In Ma Cheng’s Squad Three alone, seven of the thirteen members were Grade Two martial artists. The remaining six, though only Grade One, were all seasoned fighters. Even Zhang Ze, whose cell strength index was 199S—higher than any of those six—would be easily subdued by any one of them in real combat. It was not that Zhang Ze was weak, but these agents were true combat veterans, their martial skills honed to perfection.

Mo Qing’s Squad One was even stronger.

With such a formidable lineup, it took less than thirty seconds for the walkie-talkie to buzz with responses.

“Squad Three: mission accomplished!”

“Squad One: done!”

Hearing Mo Qing’s personal reply, Ma Cheng finally allowed himself a breath of relief.

“Thank goodness… at least—” As he looked at the students who had already exited the gate, he was just about to relax when his peripheral vision caught sight of a middle-aged man. The figure was hunched under a large coat, head bowed, walking directly toward the school entrance.

Ma Cheng’s pupils contracted sharply. Years of frontline work had left his nerves highly attuned.

“There’s another one! Mo Qing, get over here now!” he growled.

Without hesitation, Ma Cheng charged straight at his target.

...

Heavy footsteps echoed in Mo Qing’s ears as he spotted Ma Cheng, wild-eyed and frantic.

“This is bad!” The thought flashed instantly through his mind.

He darted after Ma Cheng.

...

“Ha ha—The glory of the Sacred Church is beyond your comprehension, fools!” The middle-aged man, a Grade Two martial artist himself, noticed their approach. No longer hiding, he shouted and pressed a switch in his hand.

A shrill beeping sounded. Ignoring the chaos around him, Ma Cheng lunged at the man, trying to force him away from the school gate. Mo Qing glimpsed a row of cylindrical tubes at the man’s waist through the opening in his coat.

“Get back! He has a bomb!” Mo Qing yelled.

But Ma Cheng was beyond caution. With a leap—his cell strength nearly 500—he soared several meters through the air. His right leg drew back, his torso taut in midair. At the moment of landing, he kicked the mustached man square in the chest with all his might.

A dull thud resounded beneath his foot.

An explosion erupted ahead, shaking the ground and sending dust flying in all directions.

Mo Qing heard the shouts and cries of the students fade into the distance. Clambering to his feet, he rushed toward the newly formed crater.

...

Fifteen minutes later.

In the corridor outside the emergency room at Anqing Provincial Hospital, a trail of blood marked the floor. Mo Qing walked closely beside the medical staff. On the stretcher, Ma Cheng opened his eyes, his voice barely audible. Yet to Mo Qing, the words were clear as day.

“Don’t worry. Rest easy!” Mo Qing said urgently. “No children were hurt. The operation was a success!”