Just as they had expected, the assassins targeting Pei Liang had come in more than one wave.
Aside from the first two, the ones who came afterward had clearly rushed over at the last minute. Even so, the fact that they had been able to organize an assassination of this scale in such a short time showed that they had made preparations well in advance.
The original host had originally arranged to meet Chu Xingyu tomorrow. But after Pei Liang took her place, she had come ahead of time without consulting anyone.
That had caught the other side off guard, preventing them from coordinating as effectively as they should have.
If the original plot had proceeded as planned, the original host would have died tomorrow.
Pei Liang activated her car’s automatic driving system and sent it racing away, drawing some of their attention. Just as several people gave chase, a motorcycle flashing with blue light shot out like lightning.
Hill wore a helmet and sat in front, while Pei Liang wrapped her arms around his waist. In an instant, the repair shop vanished from her sight. The motorcycle’s speed was truly astonishing.
By the time the assassins realized they had fallen for a diversion, it was already too late to catch them.
Hill had claimed that he knew the slums well, and he had not been exaggerating in the slightest.
He maintained a high speed as he wove through the complicated, twisting streets, seeming to know every inch of the area by heart.
After driving for about twenty minutes, he finally stopped in a district ablaze with lights and nightlife.
There were simply too many people here to pass through, but they had already shaken off the assassins.
Pei Liang climbed off the motorcycle and patted it approvingly. “It’s faster than I expected.”
A mocking smile appeared on Hill’s face. “How could it be? Any obsolete car your aristocratic families keep lying around would be better than this.”
That was the truth. The most cutting-edge technology was controlled by a tiny fraction of the population and was never shared with those at the bottom.
The car Pei Liang had driven today, for instance, possessed technical capabilities that were impossible to overcome in the slums. Its power source and the precision of its core components were on an entirely different level.
If one were speaking purely of advancement, even Hill’s beloved vehicle—which he had painstakingly built himself—could not compare with the abandoned cars gathering dust in the original host’s garage.
But given the scarce resources available in the slums, creating something like this was already an impressive achievement.
Pei Liang asked, “I heard there’s a combat racing tournament here. Are you one of the racers?”
“That’s right,” Hill replied. “My ranking was only average last time, so I want to replace the engine with a better one. I’m raising money for it.”
No wonder the man had looked tempted when Pei Liang had joked about taking her car earlier.
The original host had also looked into combat racing. It was one of the few avenues to rise upward that the upper classes of the central district had opened to the slums.
But it was also unimaginably brutal.
As the name suggested, combat racing was a spectator sport centered on racing and fighting. There were no restrictions on the type of vehicle, and once the race began, contestants could attack or obstruct one another by any means they chose. In the end, they were ranked according to the order in which they reached the finish line alive.
The races operated on a points system. Once a racer accumulated enough points, they could participate in the annual championship tournament.
The champion would receive a green card for the central district and become an official racing star there.
Pei Liang nodded, then looked at the motorcycle. “You sacrificed defense to focus entirely on speed?”
Yet Hill’s body bore no particularly obvious scars, which showed that his skills were first-rate even in such a brutal competition.
Pei Liang was just about to pay him when several people in leather jackets and somewhat flamboyant attire approached from a short distance away.
Hill’s expression changed. He hurriedly grabbed Pei Liang. “Come with me.”
But it was already too late. The moment they turned around, they found the same people blocking their path behind them.
The leader was a burly male Alpha with a tattoo on his forehead. He drove a fist into Hill’s abdomen, striking him so hard that he doubled over in agony.
Then he said to the others, “Take them away.”
Naturally, Pei Liang did not escape either. These people’s territory was right here, and after only a few steps of being dragged along, the two of them were already inside a dimly lit private room in an underground bar.
Through the transparent walls of the room, Pei Liang saw pole dancers outside, twisting like water snakes beneath the lurid lights. Looking more closely, she realized that the dancers’ appearances were far from ordinary.
Some had cat ears on their heads and cat tails extending from their tailbones—and they were real.
There were plenty of other varieties as well, such as people with the pointed ears of elves or mermaid girls whose skin gleamed with a pearly luster.
From the original host’s memories, Pei Liang knew that this world possessed genetic synthesis technology.
Some people, in pursuit of a unique kind of beauty, injected themselves with animal genes, causing certain animal characteristics to appear on their bodies. The technology had long since matured and was entirely optional.
However, because it caused irreversible damage to the body, it had long been officially prohibited. Such people were practically nonexistent in the central district. As for nobles like the original host—military academy students whose bodies belonged to the Empire—there was no way they would subject themselves to such destruction.
But in the red-light districts of the slums, it was quite popular among sex workers, who used the procedure to attract customers.
It helped them raise their value, much like the ladyboys of Country T in the modern world. In both cases, they sacrificed part of their lifespan in exchange for money.
Before Pei Liang could get a closer look, the transparent walls of the private room turned dark gray, cutting off her view.
She and Hill were forced into separate chairs. They treated her relatively well, since she was merely an incidental hostage. Hill, however, was in a much worse position.
One man restrained his arms while another stood in front of him and began beating him mercilessly, until blood spilled from his mouth.
The tattooed leader signaled for the beating to stop. He sat in the middle of the booth table, looking at Hill before shifting his gaze to Pei Liang.
With a sinister laugh, he said, “Hill, is this the person you said couldn’t pay back your debt?”
The original host was extravagant and ostentatious, and everything Pei Liang wore looked extremely valuable.
Hill’s expression changed the moment he heard that. He spat out a mouthful of blood and said, “She’s just a client of mine. She has nothing to do with our business. Let her go first.”
“Hahahahahaha…”
The people around them burst into laughter.
The boss laughed even harder, clapping his hands and throwing himself about until tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.
He was just about to speak when he noticed that the female Alpha’s gaze was strange. His laughter abruptly stopped.
The natural envy and hostility he felt toward the residents of the central district made him especially sensitive to that kind of look.
The tattooed boss asked Pei Liang maliciously, “What are you looking at?”
“The writing on your forehead.” Pei Liang pointed at it. “When you got that tattoo, didn’t you check what it meant?”
The common language and script of this world were not modern Chinese or English, the two most widely used languages in her original world, but an entirely different system that Pei Liang had never seen before.
That did not mean Chinese and English did not exist here. They were simply considered minor languages.
Chinese in particular was understood by only a small number of people with Eastern ancestry. Most others knew little more than the basics.
The boss gave a cold laugh when he saw Pei Liang’s unmistakably Eastern features. “Then you tell me what it means.”
Though he said this, his eyes were filled with threat and cold intent, as if Pei Liang would receive the same treatment as Hill if she got even one word wrong.
Pei Liang glanced at the four enormous, stylized characters tattooed across his forehead—“Human Vermin”—and felt a little sorry for him.
“Forget it. Maybe it’s better that you don’t know.”
“I don’t want to deprive you of that simple happiness you get from walking around every day with a smile on your face.”
The tattooed man immediately realized that the words on his forehead were probably nothing flattering. He cursed inwardly and decided to have the tattoo changed the next day.
He wasn’t stupid enough to insist on hearing the truth from this arrogant man from the Central District and humiliate himself in front of all his underlings.
However, his attention had now shifted completely from Hill to Pei Liang.
He stepped in front of Pei Liang and tugged at the collar of her coat, as though marveling at the luxurious fabric.
“Your friend Hill borrowed some money from us last month and failed to repay it on time. According to the rules, his body now belongs to us.”
The moment the man finished speaking, Hill shot back, “Bullshit. You’re the ones who broke the rules by adding interest at the last minute.”
Before he could finish, another punch landed on him—a vivid demonstration of why one should never borrow money of unknown origin.
The man continued addressing Pei Liang. “But someone like him, with a life as worthless as his, wouldn’t be worth the amount he owes us even if we took him apart piece by piece.”
“So unfortunately, as his friend, you’ll have to assume joint liability.”
He didn’t give them a chance to respond. With a gesture to one of his men, someone brought over a case.
When it was opened, several kilograms of loose packets of drugs were revealed inside.
The tattooed man sat back down and crossed his legs. “There are plenty of people in the Central District who are hooked on this stuff these days. Unfortunately, supplies in the city can’t meet the demand.”
“Isn’t it funny? Those rich upper-class people can’t get their hands on something that’s everywhere in our neighborhood.”
Naturally, that was the case. In a world so sharply divided by class, the Central District was practically an idealized utopia.
Its laws and regulations operated by an entirely different standard from those in the slums. Anything that might endanger the citizens of the Central District was strictly prohibited.
But as long as people lived in the same world, no matter how tightly the authorities tried to seal everything off, there would always be blurred boundaries and points of overlap.
Recently, quite a few Central District residents had begun secretly purchasing drugs. Any drug dealer in the slums with the right connections naturally wouldn’t pass up the chance to make a fortune.
The powder was cheap here, but once smuggled into the Central District, its value multiplied a hundredfold. People there had plenty of money to spend on a little excitement.
Even though getting caught meant certain death, profits a hundred times over were enough to make people take the risk.
“The buyer in the Central District is already waiting,” the tattooed man said. “Now all we need is someone to get the merchandise inside.”
Everyone understood that entering the Central District was exceedingly difficult. Even if they managed to secure visas, the advanced scanning equipment would expose anything they tried to conceal.
The only way to fool the scanners was to hide the goods inside the body, and even that wasn’t enough. The packages would also have to be wrapped in a layer of shielding film.
But that kind of film reacted with blood. Residue would remain in the body, and the person carrying it wouldn’t live much longer.
Given the amount of merchandise they had provided, there was no room for luck or half measures. The only option was to cut open one’s abdomen and hide it inside.
The tattooed man still considered himself quite reasonable. “As long as you get this shipment into the Central District, our accounts are settled.”
“Isn’t that where you’ve always wanted to go? You’ve clawed your way upward like a stray dog just for the chance.”
“Well? Today, you’re getting exactly what you wanted. The visa is right in front of you. Not a bad deal, is it?”
He turned his attention to Pei Liang. “As for you, inspections are much less stringent when Central District residents return home. That saves us the trouble of getting a second visa.”
Not only that, ordinary Central District residents rarely came to the chaotic slums in the first place. For their own safety, leaving the Central District was more troublesome than returning to it.
But the original host was a noble. The privileges she possessed were far beyond those of an ordinary citizen. Her smart system came with the highest-level visa already built in, so she wouldn’t even need to leave the vehicle for inspection.
Hill struggled and protested, “She has no reason to do anything for you. Controlling a Central District citizen is a serious crime. Think carefully!”
The tattooed man wasn’t intimidated. “That’s only because this esteemed citizen hasn’t experienced the pleasures of the slums yet.”
He turned to his men. “Give her an injection. She’ll be joining this little business soon enough.”
Then he warned Hill, “Don’t even think about trying anything clever. I hear that Beta friend of yours is studying at the Imperial Military Academy.”
“Quite a promising future. No wonder you’ve been risking your life in those illegal fights to make money.”
Hill’s expression changed completely. In the end, he could only lower his head in defeat.
One of the men had already produced a syringe filled with blue liquid.
The original host might have been a terrible person, but as a military academy student, she had obviously never touched anything like this. She still knew the basics, though.
The drug trade naturally depended on addiction. So even in an age of advanced technology, such substances had evolved along with everything else.
Pei Liang smiled. “Once I take this shot, I’ll probably become an addict.”
The man laughed. “It’ll feel wonderful.”
Pei Liang’s smile deepened. “That much pleasure isn’t worth having my stomach cut open.”
“How about this instead? I’ll pull your intestines out, fill them with this stuff, and make you some white-powder sausage.”
“Even if the scanners detect it, they’ll just think it’s shit and let you through. That way, no one else has to go to the trouble. What do you say?”
The tattooed man gave a vicious grin. “Stuff even more into her.”
But before he could finish speaking, Pei Liang spat something from her mouth. It struck him squarely in the forehead.
The object was about the size of a pea. When Pei Liang had been dragged through the dance floor, she had casually fished it out of a guest’s cocktail. It was the pit left over after she ate the cherry.
The tattooed man’s head was pierced straight through. A tiny black hole appeared between the Chinese characters meaning “human” and “vermin” on his forehead—so inconspicuous that it would have been impossible to notice without looking closely.
The people around him didn’t even realize he was dead. Only Hill, whose instincts had been honed through countless dangerous life-or-death matches, suddenly lifted his head and stared at Pei Liang in disbelief.
Blood slowly seeped from the little hole. The man’s rigid body crashed to the floor, and only then did the people around him realize that something was wrong.
They instinctively looked over. But in that brief instant when their attention shifted, Pei Liang slammed her head backward, smashing the nose and teeth of the man restraining her.
She then yanked the gun from his waist, raised it, and immediately opened fire on the few men who were already armed.
The entire process took less than two seconds. By the time the others reacted and reached for their weapons, Pei Liang had already taken cover behind the large man whose nose she had broken. Using him as a shield, she methodically shot most of the people in the room.
The ones left were all unarmed—in other words, completely incapable of threatening Pei Liang.
Pei Liang stood up and tossed aside the human shield, whose body had been shot full of holes. Then she walked to the center of the private room.
The remaining men trembled with fear.
“Don’t come any closer! We were wrong! You can leave. Hill’s debt is canceled—we won’t hurt you!”
Pei Liang ignored them and walked over to the tattooed man’s corpse. With some regret, she said, “If you hadn’t pushed me so far, I might actually have been willing to spare your life.”
“After all, anyone brave enough to tattoo ‘human scum’ on his own face deserves at least a little respect.”
The lackeys: “…”
Hill: “…”
So that was what those Chinese characters meant?
But Hill’s gaze at Pei Liang had also become more complicated than ever.
He had always looked up to the Central District, dreaming that one day he could make his way there as a racing star. Yet only now did he truly realize the difference between stray dogs from a dump like them and nobles born with superior genes.
According to Xingyu, this bastard Alpha who had threatened him was rated S-class in mental power, but none of her other abilities were particularly outstanding. Even among the students in the special-grade class, she was near the bottom.
Her combat and survival skills had barely scraped past the passing line, too.
They had originally made thorough preparations. If this woman came looking for them, they planned to kill her rather than remain under her thumb for long.
But this was what Xingyu had called ordinary?
Hill’s feelings were complicated, but Pei Liang’s attention was no longer on him.
She prodded the forehead of the surviving man with the still-scorching muzzle of her gun. The heat reddened his skin, but he didn’t dare cry out.
The female Alpha asked, “How much do you know about the contact in the Central District?”
“Not—not much.” The man’s voice trembled. “We’re just small-time underlings responsible for transporting things. The big shots handle all of that. As for how they got a connection into the Central District, that’s not something we’d know.”
“That’s right. We only deliver the goods to the designated locations. The address is inside the boxes. You can check it yourself.”
Pei Liang asked a few more questions, but there really was nothing else to squeeze out of these underlings. In the end, she had no choice but to let it go.
After leaving the bar, Pei Liang felt that this was a clue she couldn’t afford to overlook.
These thugs from the slums didn’t have enough influence to worm their way into the Central District. If visas were that easy to obtain, the divide between the two worlds wouldn’t be so stark.
Hill wouldn’t have needed to risk his life trying to squeeze into the Central District, either. Sneaking in illegally would have been much easier.
There was no doubt that the Central District’s nobility controlled the world—and that naturally included the slums.
The major figures who divided up power in the civilian districts were, without exception, being controlled by different noble families behind the scenes. The nobles’ dirty work, hard labor, and various shady dealings could all be pushed down here.
And it went without saying that the spread of drugs in the Central District was also being manipulated by people at the top.
But why?
The corruption and chaos of the Central District did not serve the interests of those in power.
Pei Liang’s sharp instincts immediately sensed the enormous conspiracy lurking behind it all.
She glanced at Hill, who had followed her outside. He had clearly taken quite a beating earlier; bruises still marred his face, and the corner of his mouth was split.
But even a handsome man looked different when disheveled. This stray dog, drenched in rain amid a heap of garbage, was undeniably beautiful.
Pei Liang smiled. “Your service was pretty lousy.”
A look of embarrassment flashed across Hill’s face. “I know. Consider this one free.”
“How could I?” Pei Liang replied. “I never make people work for nothing. Besides, thanks to you, I discovered something interesting.”
As she spoke, she prepared to transfer money to Hill, but he caught her hand.
Hill stubbornly said, “Could I not take the money?”
Pei Liang raised an eyebrow. She looked into his eyes without saying a word.
Hill continued, “You must be curious about who tried to kill you. I know quite a few people in the slums. Depending on who those assassins work for, starting the investigation from the inconspicuous bottom might be more efficient.”
That was true enough. Pei Liang searched through the original host’s memories. The woman had been an irritating person who made plenty of enemies, but she hadn’t yet had the chance to commit any truly monstrous deeds.
She couldn’t say for certain that no one hated her enough to want her dead. However, anyone capable of knowing her private movements so thoroughly and setting up an inescapable trap for her in advance in the slums was definitely no ordinary person she could bully.
So this probably had nothing to do with a personal grudge. Using the Pei family’s resources to investigate might not be as effective as having Hill quietly mobilize his network within the slums.
With that, she patted Hill on the waist and agreed to his attempt to cling to her for support. “Fine. Here’s my contact information.”
She tapped her terminal against his, then added, “I’ll get you a visa by next weekend. You just need to prove your worth.”
She was more than happy to give a handsome man with unrecognized talent a chance to achieve his dreams.
Hill’s body went rigid. He felt as if he were dreaming. The visa to enter the Central District—the permit he had longed for since childhood, the one that had always seemed impossibly out of reach—was he really about to get it just like that?
By the time Pei Liang left, he still hadn’t come to his senses.
But once he did, he discovered that a large sum of money had also appeared in his account.
The transfer came with a message:
[Go get yourself a new engine. The fee for running away is included, too.]
Hill gained a very direct understanding of just how generous this female Alpha was.
When he returned to the repair shop, Xingyu anxiously asked him what had happened.
Hill replied dazedly, “Do you think what she said in your room earlier was true?”
Chu Xingyu didn’t understand at first. Then he remembered that Pei Liang had said she preferred Alpha bodies to Omegas, and had even told Hill that if he was willing to sleep with her, she would give him that luxury car.
For a moment, Chu Xingyu’s expression became indescribably complicated.
He struggled to hold it in, but finally blurted out, “Hill, I know you love cars, but this is going a little too far—”
Hill’s face flushed with an odd, dreamy blush. “I think sleeping with an Alpha might not be so unbearable after all.”
Chu Xingyu: “…”
