You guys aren't using message in a bottle to contact each other, are you

He paced in the warehouse for a minute.

He stopped and turned toward the office on the other side.

With a light tap of his finger on the mouse, the surveillance software popped up.

However, what greeted him was not a clear picture, but frantically jumping static on the main hall's surveillance screen.

A blinding, harsh white.

A chill ran down his spine.

He dragged the timeline. The footage seemed to have been brutally wiped away by an invisible hand, only returning to normal when he rewound it by a full three hours.

"It should just be a normal glitch," he tried to comfort himself, though it didn't help much.

Finally, his hand reached into a hidden compartment under the desk, where an inconspicuous safe was embedded.

Password, fingerprint.

Click.

The safe opened. Lying inside were neither gold bars nor documents, but a cold handgun, accompanied by two fully loaded magazines.

He skillfully tucked the gun into his apron, using the thick fabric to cleverly conceal its shape.

Having done all this, he stood frozen in place, not rushing out immediately.

His hands hung by his sides, his fingers slowly curling into fists.

Crackle!

A faint, almost imperceptible popping sound echoed between his fingers.

A few wisps of forcefully compressed air let out a shriek.

Wen Di was an ability user.

But abilities weren't omnipotent. Sometimes, a tiny bullet could solve many problems that powers could not.

Meanwhile, in the coffee shop's main hall.

Lin Mo and Dongfang Shuye sat peacefully in a booth, their postures vastly different.

Lin Mo was sunk deep into the sofa, lazily propping up his chin, his eyes seemingly studying the wood grain of the table.

Dongfang Shuye, on the other hand, sat bolt upright, his back straight as a pine, his calm gaze sweeping over everything in the shop.

In front of both men sat a glass of plain water, brought over earlier by the clerk.

After all, since they claimed to be friends of the boss, basic hospitality had to be observed.

The rest of the staff were scrambling to pack up and get ready to leave for the day, but with the boss nowhere to be seen, they didn't dare just walk out.

The atmosphere was a bit bizarre.

Finally, the office door opened.

Wen Di walked out at a measured pace,

and then he saw Lin Mo and Dongfang Shuye sitting there imposingly.

His heart skipped a beat.

He would recognize those two faces even if they were reduced to ashes.

One was the destroyer of the Hidden Sect families—Lin Mo.

The other was the leader of the Yanhuang Awakening Special Squad—Dongfang Shuye.

Forcing his facial muscles not to twitch, Wen Di squeezed out a gentle smile toward his busy employees.

"Stop working, everyone. Time to clock out."

"Huh? Boss, what about the bar..." a young clerk froze.

"I'll finish cleaning up. Just take the trash by the door down with you and clock out."

"Alright!"

The employees felt as if they had been granted amnesty. No one would refuse the joy of getting off work. They quickly took off their aprons and left in twos and threes, warmly greeting Wen Di as they passed by.

"See you tomorrow, boss!"

"See you tomorrow."

Wen Di nodded with a smile, watching the last employee disappear through the doorway.

The moment the shop door closed, the smile vanished from his face.

He didn't walk directly toward the two men. Instead, he turned and went behind the bar, skillfully operating the expensive espresso machine.

Grinding, tamping, extracting.

The rich aroma of coffee soon filled the air, and the familiar scent slightly relaxed his tense nerves.

A moment later, carrying two lattes with exquisite latte art, he walked over step by step.

Every step felt like treading on his own heartbeat.

"Gentlemen, try our shop's signature latte. I personally handpicked the beans in South America."

He gently placed the two cups of coffee on the table and pushed them forward.

However, a bizarre scene unfolded.

As the two coffee cups slid to the exact center of the table, they stopped abruptly, as if hitting an invisible wall.

The latte inside shook violently from the momentum, the milk foam nearly spilling over, but the cups themselves remained completely motionless.

Wen Di's hands were still resting on the rims of the cups. He applied a little more force.

They wouldn't budge.

He pushed harder.

Still wouldn't budge.

It felt like pushing against a steel plate welded to the table, or even to the very floor itself.

Lin Mo finally looked up, shifting his gaze from the wood grain to the two cups of coffee blocked by the invisible force, and spoke with interest.

"Not a bad amount of force, but still lacking a bit."

Wen Di took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as if trying to expel all the panic from his lungs.

He released his hands and reached into the pocket of his coffee-stained apron, pulling out the heavy black handgun.

He didn't point the muzzle at anyone; instead, with a slow motion akin to a display, he placed the gun on the table.

"If you two have questions, just ask. I'll definitely tell you everything. I don't have much of a backbone, and I'm not that perceptive. I'm just muddling along to make a living, and I only ask to keep my life."

Dongfang Shuye acted as if he hadn't seen the gun. He simply pulled a bottle of tea that shared his namesake from his pocket, twisted off the cap, and took a couple of sips.

Lin Mo ignored him, remaining comfortably seated in his chair, his gaze moving from the gun to Wen Di's face.

"Alright, you know what's good for you."

He pointed to a seat by the window. "Who was the person sitting there yesterday?"

There was not a shred of surprise on Wen Di's face.

The moment Lin Mo walked through the door, he knew he couldn't avoid wading into this muddy water. For the other party to show up so precisely meant they had thoroughly investigated him.

"Zhuge Chen."

He answered rapidly. "An outcast of the Zhuge family. Because of that, his favorite thing to do in this life is to find outcasts, use outcasts, and finally abandon outcasts."

Lin Mo nodded.

This explanation was very reasonable.

A twisted personality often stems from an equally twisted past.

"Where is this man?!"

Dongfang Shuye's brows knitted tightly together, and the tea bottle in his hand crunched under his grip. "Who is he working for?"

Wen Di squeezed out a smile that was uglier than crying. "I don't know where he is either, nor do I know what mission he's executing. My place is just a..."

"A mission distribution hub, right," Lin Mo finished the sentence for him.

"One of the distribution hubs," Wen Di quickly added, terrified the other party might overestimate his value.

Lin Mo's fingers tapped lightly on the table, one after another, unhurriedly, yet the rhythm made Wen Di's heart pound with panic.

"I know where he is."

Lin Mo suddenly spoke, a single sentence causing Wen Di's pupils to shrink.

He knows? Then why did he ask me?

"What I want to know is, who is your superior."

Lin Mo's gaze sharpened. "Don't tell me you guys communicate using messages in bottles?"

In truth, Lin Mo had already searched Wen Di from head to toe using the system's method of tracing the network cable to find a person.

However, he hadn't found anything.

That was why he had to come here in person.