Histoires de fantômes

Chapitre 142

Xiao Keleng opened the door again, letting the cold night wind rush in, making the papers in my hand rustle.

Suren's intentions were crystal clear: he didn't want the "weapon of mass destruction" to fall into Japanese hands. However, such a large-scale sniping operation was unlikely to be accomplished by just a few individuals or even a few underworld organizations. Although the Americans publicly admitted in the media that Iraq did not possess weapons of mass destruction and that it was purely an intelligence error, they secretly never stopped their search for them.

"Xiao Xiao, is something on your mind?" I couldn't help but ask, seeing Xiao Keleng pacing back and forth. If she was worried about the Crimson Flame Army, it would be completely unnecessary. Everyone should focus on their own plans and never try to shoulder all the suffering and fears of the world by themselves. Such strength is simply not something that earthlings possess.

Xiao Keleng tossed her short hair, nervously flicked her nails, and pondered for half a minute before slowly replying, "The intelligence report stated that the Crimson Flame Force entered Hokkaido specifically for the 'weapon of mass destruction.' The leader has ordered that all Japanese ninjas transferring and protecting the 'weapon of mass destruction' be killed, and the treasure be seized and returned. In North Korea, all the necessary platforms for manufacturing and launching nuclear missiles have been set up. Everything is ready, except for the final push."

I couldn't help but sneer: "No wonder the North Korean media has been so tough lately. They've made the same mistake of targeting the Iraqis."

Almost every warmonger in a small country, after acquiring superior military weaponry, can't contain his excitement and jumps out to boast, hoping to draw the world's attention to himself. Over the past century, there have been countless precedents of this in the Middle East, Africa, and small Eastern European countries.

I suddenly shouted, realizing something in a flash—"Several forces have gathered in Hokkaido, eyeing the legendary 'Wrath of the Sun,' but their target isn't the legendary 'Wrath of the Sun,' but rather the 'weapon of mass destruction' that was once the subject of much media hype. Or to put it another way, as long as they possess the power to destroy the Earth, even if the 'weapon of mass destruction' is ten thousand times weaker than the 'Wrath of the Sun,' it's enough to arouse the covetousness of all forces. After all, destroying the Earth ten times or a thousand times makes no real difference."

Xiao Ke patted his forehead and smiled bitterly: "Your thoughts are exactly the same as Sister Su Lun's. She hopes to receive your call tomorrow morning and asks me to tell you—it's true that heroes are always short-lived and love is always strong. If the 'weapon of mass destruction' is transformed into a super nuclear bomb, then all romantic soap operas should be cut short. Please remember that."

Even amidst her busy schedule, Su Lun didn't forget to make a sarcastic remark about my relationship with Guan Baoling. It seems that a girl's jealous nature will inevitably permeate her entire life, never ceasing.

I put down the stack of papers and suddenly realized that my thoughts had long been imprisoned by the "Underwater Tomb" and the "Wrath of the Sun God," and I was so caught up in them that I couldn't see the forest for the trees. Sun Long and other important figures had repeatedly expressed their strong determination to obtain the "Wrath of the Sun God," but now, judging from this top-secret intelligence, what everyone was really concerned about was the "ultimate weapon" that could instantly turn the tide of battle.

“Mr. Feng, remember to call Sister Su Lun tomorrow. Although she is on the Sichuan-Tibet border, half of her heart is already here.” Xiao Ke sighed leisurely, as if he was marveling at the depth of Su Lun’s affection.

"I will." This document is giving me a headache; I hope it will be better by tomorrow morning.

Now that the important figure has left Fengge Temple, all the military guards must have withdrawn. The pressure I felt has lessened considerably. I then decided to go to Youhuangshui County again to meet with Tengjia in order to obtain more information about the "Sea God's Plaque".

The thought that the widely circulated "Wrath of the Sun God" had become a pretext for a "weapon of mass destruction" made me smile bitterly. This is an era where myths and rumors fly everywhere, and if you're not careful, you can be blinded by absurd legends and sink deeper and deeper into a quagmire full of errors.

Xiao Keleng lightly tapped the door with her hand, asking with a mix of teasing and sarcasm, "Mr. Feng, the night is cold and lonely. Sister Su Lun told me to pay more attention to your personal safety. Please cooperate."

Next door was the beautiful and charming Guan Baoling. It was completely understandable that Su Lun and Xiao Keleng didn't trust me, but my mind was no longer on romantic love; it was deeply absorbed in the intelligence report in front of me.

Suddenly, I heard a "thump" from the northwest, as if someone had fallen heavily to the ground.

"Xiao Lai?" I exclaimed in a low voice, leaping quickly out the door and passing by Xiao Keleng. Xiao Lai was the only one on guard duty outside. His martial arts skills and adaptability were not yet at the level of a top-tier martial arts master. If a master attacked, he might not be able to handle it easily.

"Click," that was the sound of Xiao Keleng behind me gripping the gun with one hand and flicking the safety with his thumb.

Without pausing, I sprang onto the roof, then crouched down and listened intently again. The wind on the roof was strong, carrying a suffocating chill.

The pagoda to the southeast, the meditation hall to the east, the secluded bamboo grove to the north, and the scripture pavilion to the northwest were all clearly visible. In the courtyards and patios, scattered lights shone through, and occasionally the deep, drawn-out chanting of monks drifted over. I stretched out my limbs like a nimble gecko, clinging tightly to the roof tiles, oblivious to the thin layer of frost on them.

In this era of rapidly evolving sniper weaponry, even in the dead of night, snipers' infrared thermal binoculars can accurately locate targets and eliminate them without hesitation. I don't want to blindly expose myself to assassins' guns. If acquiring "The Wrath of the Sun God" becomes a desperate pretext, then my importance will quickly drop to zero, and I will no longer be the target that Sun Long and the big shots are so desperately trying to win over.

A "click" came from behind a half-meter-high brick chimney to my left front. It was the sound of a gun releasing its safety. However, the gunman was extremely careful, minimizing the sound of metal parts colliding.

"Coo-coo, coo-coo," came the hooting of an owl from behind the chimney; it must be Xiao Lai.

I moved forward close to the roof tiles and quickly reached the side of the chimney. I gently tapped Xiao Lai's knee, who was on high alert, and whispered, "What's going on?"

This location is precisely in a blind spot, away from the interplay of lights, but the concealed person can clearly observe the surrounding movements thanks to the chimney's obstruction.

"Someone was just thrown over the wall. He didn't make a sound after landing. He's probably either seriously injured or had his pressure points struck hard." He carefully pointed to a large, dark wall directly in front of him, but it was quiet and deserted, and there was nothing unusual about it.

Between the wall and the building beneath our feet was a six-meter-wide passageway leading to the meditation hall. There, indeed, lay a very thin man curled up on the ground, motionless. He wore a grey monk's robe and had extremely short hair; he was undoubtedly a monk from Fengge Temple. So, who would throw him in here for no reason? Was it another feint, a diversionary tactic to lure the enemy away?

A figure suddenly appeared on the rooftop north of the wall, the short gun in his hand flashing coldly in the streetlight before disappearing.

Xiao Lai's reaction was incredibly fast; he raised the gun, his finger already poised to pull the trigger. In a tenth of a second, I flicked his elbow with my right index finger, numbing his pressure point and preventing him from pulling the trigger. This "finger-touch-pressure" technique is far more swift and effective than a heavy-handed pressure point strike; it subdues the enemy without injuring them.

"Be careful, that's Miss Xiao over there, not an enemy."

Xiao Keleng reacted and moved very quickly. Just after I jumped onto the roof, she immediately circled around the yard and moved to surround the source of the noise.

She leaped off the roof and slowly emerged from a small door on the side of the wall, hugging the corner of the wall, her gun raised warily. Only when she reached the person lying on the ground did she carefully lower her gun and give us a "it's alright" gesture. Indeed, there wasn't a soul in sight within a hundred meters; the attacker who had thrown the person in seemed to have vanished into thin air.

I instructed Xiao Lai: "Be careful and vigilant, especially about any movements in Miss Guan's room." If the enemy were to launch another surprise attack on Guan Baoling, it would be a great disgrace to my life, and I would never fall into the same trap twice.

Xiao Lai nodded silently, released his grip on the gun, and wiped the cold sweat from his palms onto his sleeve. Beside him lay a camouflaged submachine gun, a deadly weapon for close-quarters combat, capable of unleashing a hail of bullets in rapid-fire mode.

I jumped off the roof and approached Xiao Keleng. She was carefully turning the person on the ground over with her toes, so that he was facing up.

"This person should be one of the monks in charge of receiving guests at Fengge Temple. His name is Shidao. He has the same duties as the former soldier monk. We have dealt with him a few times."

Xiao Keleng lightly raised her toes and kicked Shi Dao in the left ribs with a soft thud, her trouser leg rustling in the wind.

Part Two: Ancient Temple Under the Dark Night

— Chapter 3 - The Plague Re-emerges (Part 1) —

Ishijima's body suddenly convulsed violently, but he did not immediately regain consciousness.

Xiao Keleng exclaimed "Huh?", bent down, and touched the back of Shi Dao's neck. He whispered alarmedly, "Oh no, it's the 'Iron Palm Meridian Interception' technique from the Korean martial arts world. The one who did it must be a master from the Crimson Flame Army—"

She drew her pistol a second time, the muzzle pointing downwards, her mind on high alert.

Speak of the devil, and he appears! We had just been discussing the perilous situation of the various warlords vying for power in Northeast Asia, and the Crimson Flame Army appeared immediately. I bent down, hoisted the stone island onto my shoulder, quickly circled back into the courtyard, and entered my room, where at least for the time being, I was safe.

Ishijima lay sprawled on the ground, his face ashen, his swollen eyes tightly shut, looking as if he were on the verge of death.

Xiao Keleng kept hissing as she gasped for breath; she was faced with an extremely difficult problem.

I smiled casually and said, "Xiao Xiao, don't worry too much. Even the 'Iron Palm Meridian Severing' technique applied by a top master will automatically dissipate within forty-eight hours. This skill represents the highest level of Korean martial arts and should be studied seriously by Chinese martial arts masters."

The art of "cutting the meridians" is even more powerful than the Chinese "acupoint striking." Masters concentrate their internal energy in their palms and fiercely strike the key points of blood flow along the body's meridian circulation routes. Even if the strike is not aimed at vital organs, it is enough to temporarily damage the meridians and prevent them from flowing smoothly.

Those who can use "Iron Palm Meridian Severing" must have previously practiced ruthless and domineering hard skills such as Iron Sand Palm or Black Sand Palm, and are extremely irritable. Korean martial arts are not well-known in Asia, mainly because this kind of kung fu is too time-consuming and energy-intensive; it is impossible to become a master without more than twenty years of immersion in training.

“Mr. Feng, actually, I could easily break this technique and revive Shi Dao. But I’ve been wondering why the Crimson Flame Army would target an ordinary monk. What are their true intentions? Is it a warning or a show of force? Or is it just a bluff?”

She reached out and touched her shiny short hair, as if searching for answers in its thick strands.

There are countless answers to this question, but none of them can be considered the standard answer.

The Crimson Flame Force's target is the "Great Weapon of Destruction," so they should at least be searching along the coastline. Why keep getting entangled with Fengge Temple? Xiao Lai and I had already witnessed the North Korean assassin on the "Tower of the Dead," and his gliding through the air left a very deep impression on me.

Xiao Ke suddenly stood up, walked closer to me, and pretended to bend down to check Shi Dao's injuries. He lowered his voice and said urgently, "Someone is watching us! I can feel that the person who injured Shi Dao is watching us nearby, isn't he?"

Her shadow was cast on Shidao's chest, and her expression was unpredictable, showing great tension.

I felt it too. My body has a natural and special reaction to inexplicable danger. In an instant, the hairs on my arms stood on end because the feeling of being stared at so intently and menacingly was really unpleasant.

Xiao Ke frowned, simultaneously shoving both hands into the pockets of his tracksuit pants, gripping his two pistols. The enemy had just thrown Shidao out to observe our strength; now that all three of us were exposed, they felt emboldened and could approach the courtyard with peace of mind.

The only thing that reassured me was that the other side didn't seem to have the urge to kill me outright. At least in the situation just now, if they had a sniper rifle, they could have easily taken the lives of me, Xiao Keleng, and Xiao Lai.

I bent down and, with a tearing sound, ripped open Shi Dao's monk's robe, immediately exposing his thin, bony chest to the warm light. However, there was a black plastic object in front of his chest, its camera lens, slightly larger than a pinhead, gleaming with a ghostly blue light.

This thumb-sized wireless pinhole camera was firmly attached to Shidao's chest with two strips of transparent tape. Although there were no nameplates or markings on it, I could still recognize it as a special item belonging to the U.S. intelligence agency.

I took it off, held it to my face, and asked with a cold smile, "Who are you? Why are you so interested in us? Have you realized that this is Japan, not your Pyongyang? Everyone had better abide by the rules of the underworld, otherwise, if a fight breaks out, no one will look good."

This latest model of pinhole camera can transmit audio signals clearly and realistically in sync. I believe that the person who placed this camera at this moment can see my face and hear my words.

Xiao Keleng was trembling. To the North Korean government, she was a "fugitive." If she were repatriated, she would probably end up like Kim Chun-hee, inexplicably becoming a vegetable and spending her life in a dark corner.

"Do you dare to show your face? So many people are coveting this 'weapon of mass destruction,' each trying to get a piece of the pie. This time, if the Crimson Flame Force wants to bring it back to Pyongyang smoothly, they will have to pay an immeasurable price. I advise you not to focus all your attention on me; it will only be a waste of time, because I have absolutely no interest in that mysterious weapon. Do you understand?"

Knowing full well that no one would obediently show up, I still finished speaking my mind, word by word, and then clapped my hands, turning the camera into dozens of shattered pieces of engineering plastic.

"Mr. Feng, what exactly does the other party mean... who are they targeting?" The originally calm and composed Xiao Keleng immediately lost her composure and became restless and distraught once the matter of the Crimson Flame Army was involved.

I could only manage a wry smile: "It must be targeting all forces related to the 'weapon of mass destruction.' We're not the only lucky ones he's visited. If I'm not mistaken, there are at least three more of the same machines hidden on Ishijima—" Next, I easily found the same model of cameras fixed to Ishijima's calves, ankles, and lower back, and calmly let them shatter into pieces beneath my feet.

This method of spying using living people as cameras is rare, and it's an extremely clumsy approach that few would appreciate or imitate. This suggests that those who set up these cameras often act unexpectedly and unconventionally; they are either mentally unstable idiots or exceptionally brilliant geniuses.

"Xiao Xiao, wake him up! He's just an innocent victim!" I couldn't help but sigh. Shi Dao's experience was like that of a "zombie" computer completely controlled by a hacker mastermind, serving only as the spearhead for the mastermind's attack, devoid of any independent thought or consciousness.

Xiao Ke took a deep breath, placed his left palm on the back of Shi Dao's neck, and pressed his right palm against his chest. After a dozen seconds of preparation, he suddenly exerted force with both arms, as if he wanted to squeeze Shi Dao's thin body flat.

Ishijima's Adam's apple bobbed rapidly, and loud gurgling sounds came from his chest and lower abdomen. He suddenly opened his eyes, broke free from Xiao Keleng's hand, and sat up. However, before he could even sit properly, he impatiently uttered a string of Japanese profanities.

Xiao Ke's face turned cold, and with a flick of his wrist, Shi Dao tumbled and fell, only stopping when he hit the side wall.

This kind of fool won't wake up unless he's beaten. After he slowly got up, leaning against the wall, he looked at Xiao Keleng, then at me, and gave me a fawning smile: "Mr. Feng, Ms. Xiao, so it's you? I thought it was the person who attacked me—" He pressed hard on the back of his neck and groaned exaggeratedly, his sparse eyebrows trembling incessantly.

I kicked the broken pieces on the ground, and a button battery flew up with a whoosh, hit the wall, and rolled off the bed. Ishijima's appearance is repulsive; I really don't know why Master Shenbi assigned him to the reception duties—it's simply tarnishing the image of Fengge Temple.

"Did you two save me? Thank you so much." He pretended to put his hands together in front of his chest and bowed to Xiao Keleng. His sparse short hair could not cover his original bald head and flashed in the light.

Xiao Ke snorted in disgust and waved his hand.

I asked with a sneer, "What's going on? What are you doing out here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping in your own room?"

Ishijima raised his eyebrows and cried out as if he had suffered a great injustice: "I was in my own room, just about to pour water to wash my feet, when I was suddenly knocked unconscious. When I woke up, someone was carrying me at breakneck speed, and then I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my neck and passed out again, and that's how I ended up here. I'm so incredibly unlucky. If I ever catch that guy, I'll definitely give him a good beating to vent my anger."

Xiao Ke sneered, "Arrest him? Your Fengge Temple's strength is still lacking. Unless Masters Guijianchuan and Bumenlu are both present, otherwise—"

She took two steps back, distancing herself from Shi Dao. His thin, sleazy appearance made him almost unbearable to look at a second time.

Shi Dao chuckled dryly, pulled his torn gray monk's robe tighter, and asked timidly, "Mr. Feng, may I leave now? It's the middle of the night, and I'm freezing. I'm sure I'll catch a cold tomorrow, and it wouldn't be good if I missed the work assigned to me by the temple."

Since he woke up, his body had been trembling uncontrollably, obviously due to the cold night and wind.

I nodded slightly, indicating that he could leave. He was an outsider, and the experts from the Crimson Flame Squad were probably targeting me and Xiao Keleng, so I wouldn't bother him again. Judging from his emaciated frame, his martial arts skills couldn't be much better. If he encountered an enemy, there were only two possible outcomes: death, or becoming "suckers" a second time.

As Shi Dao passed by Xiao Keleng, she stepped back again, making no attempt to hide her nose to block out the strange smell emanating from him. When I was carrying Shi Dao on my back, I had already smelled a faint, pungent odor, like some kind of chemical product, but I hadn't paid much attention.

Most pretty girls are germaphobic, and Xiao Keleng should belong to this category.

Shi Dao chuckled awkwardly, took a step outside, then suddenly stopped and asked hesitantly, "Mr. Feng... is that person your enemy? And a very formidable one at that?" This time, not only were his eyebrows trembling, but his eyelids, nose, and lips were also shaking. Two red blushes appeared on his high, prominent cheekbones, as if his emotions had suddenly become heightened.

I stared at his face, wondering why this question could excite him so much.

“I can help you. You’ll definitely recognize him next time you see him because he has a strange mark on his forearm—” Ishijima’s voice rose noticeably as he raised his left hand high and shook it.

"What mark?" Xiao Keleng was more anxious and interested than I was.

Like a seasoned storyteller, Ishijima shut his mouth in time, a smug, wicked grin spreading across his face. He just wanted payment; I'd encountered this situation countless times.

"What exactly is the mark? Tell me! Tell me!" Xiao Keleng impulsively stepped in front of Shi Dao and reached out to grab his collar.

I stopped her, saying, "Xiao Xiao, don't be impulsive. Mr. Shidao just wants a check, it's nothing." In this day and age, buying information is a well-known and popular business, and no one is exempt.

Shi Dao opened his palm and smiled at me: "No, I don't want money. Mr. Feng, you are currently the head of Fengge Temple. My condition is simply that I want to contribute more to the temple and take on all the work in four areas: reception, shopping, kitchen, and construction, so that the wise brothers in the temple can concentrate on chanting scriptures and meditating without distraction. What do you think?"

Unexpectedly, the hosting position that he had been considering turning down became his shield for bribing Shidao.

Each relatively secluded temple has only these four channels for contacting the outside world, and the "gray income" from these four jobs is also the highest. While Shidao doesn't officially ask me for money, he's actually eyeing something even more lucrative.

I nodded without hesitation: "Okay, tell me everything you know. Besides those four tasks, I can give you other rewards as appropriate, including the possibility of a large check."

If we can follow Shi Dao's testimony and find the expert from the Crimson Flame Army, it will be a good thing for Xiao Keleng, and it will be worthwhile for her friendship with Su Lun.

Ishijima was very satisfied with my answer and immediately shouted out the answer: "About two inches above his wrist, there is a blue lotus flower carved on it—"

Xiao Keleng and I jumped up almost simultaneously, then looked at each other and asked in unison, "What? A blue lotus?"

In my memory, there was indeed a martial arts master with a lotus tattoo on his forearm, but he was already dead, he died in the Xunfuyuan Villa. My thoughts were in a state of confusion for a moment, but I quickly calmed myself down and secretly told myself: "Don't be nervous! If someone with the plague can have a lotus tattoo on their wrist, of course others can too, it's just an occasional coincidence."