Paralyzed

The entire Chinese team heard every word clearly.

The atmosphere instantly froze.

Teacher Bai was taken aback.

“I’d like to see what kind of price they’re willing to offer.”

Lin Mo set his water bottle down on the chair. “Don’t worry, Teacher Bai, I’m just curious. Might as well scope out what the Americans are up to this year.”

Teacher Bai opened his mouth, closed it, and was about to persuade him again when the person beside him who had been silent the whole time—Dongfang Shuye—suddenly spoke up.

“I’m going with him.”

Just four words.

Teacher Bai turned to look at him. Dongfang Shuye stood there, hands hanging naturally at his sides, posture relaxed.

After all, Teacher Bai knew who Dongfang Shuye really was. With him tagging along, Lin Mo’s safety wasn’t much of a concern.

Teacher Bai let out a sigh and ultimately didn’t stop them, but he lowered his voice and added one more warning.

“There’s something else you need to know. The few days before results come out are a sensitive period. Don’t give anyone any leverage. I just heard from the committee—several teams have already filed a joint complaint against you.”

“Complaint about what?”

“Cheating.”

Teacher Bai said it outright. “Their reasoning is that your speed at solving problems is unreasonable. You were the first to submit in both days of the competition, both times in about an hour. That kind of speed has no precedent in the history of the competition. If you end up with a perfect score or close to it...”

He didn’t finish, but the meaning was clear.

Those people would make a scene—and a big one.

Lin Mo, however, didn’t look nervous in the slightest. He even let out a laugh.

“Let them make a scene. Tell them to bring their proof. If they can’t, we can just have another round of problems on the spot, and I’ll solve them right in front of them.”

He paused, then added: “Honestly, I’m kind of looking forward to it. If they make the problems too hard, their own contestants won’t be able to answer them either. If they make them too easy, it proves nothing. Watching them struggle to set the right difficulty is more exhausting than solving the problems myself.”

Teacher Bai didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his attitude, but thinking about it, there was some logic to it.

As long as he had a solid footing, what was there to fear?

When you’re abroad representing the national team, if someone tries to play dirty, the higher-ups wouldn’t just sit by and do nothing.

Teacher Bai finally said no more, just let his gaze move back and forth between Lin Mo and Dongfang Shuye.

Dongfang Shuye nodded at him.

“Don’t worry, Professor Bai.”

Still, Teacher Bai couldn’t help but worry whether someone might try to poach Lin Mo.

Dongfang Shuye, on the other hand, wasn’t concerned at all—he knew Lin Mo would never be poached.

Lin Mo leaned back against his chair, his gaze drifting toward the competition hall.

The contestants inside were still buried in their work, while he was already thinking about how to approach the dinner with Chen Zhiyuan tonight.

If he guessed right, it was Divine Eye Bureau trying to recruit him.

Their goal was probably the destroyed teleportation technology.

If that was the case, then he definitely needed to talk with Chen Zhiyuan.

If necessary, he could do a little reverse infiltration.

Though Lin Mo hadn’t expected that the first ones to come knocking would be the Super Youth Corps.

Inside Starbucks.

Lin Mo was eating cake, Dongfang Shuye was drinking coffee. The two of them each occupied one side, neither looking at the other, both staring at the Chinese news channel on their phones.

“It’s all calm back home too.”

“Maybe there are undercurrents beneath the calm surface.” Lin Mo took a bite of cake, cream sticking to the corner of his mouth.

Lin Mo hadn’t yet handed over the compiled materials to Dongfang Shuye. Those could wait until they returned home—too many eyes and ears out here. Not a safe place to talk.

There was a commotion at the entrance.

A squad of people filed in, all in black suits. The ones at the front wore earpieces, their steps in sync like presidential bodyguards.

Lin Mo glanced up, scanned them once, then lowered his head and continued eating his cake.

Dongfang Shuye looked a little longer, took a sip of coffee, and set the cup down a beat slower than before.

“Know them?”

“Yeah.”

The squad walked up to the counter, flashed credentials at the staff.

The staff’s expression changed the instant they saw them, and they nodded frantically, then began asking customers to leave the store.

Back home, even when those CEO-types booked out a place, they at least had the decency to pay everyone’s bills and hand out some compensation.

These guys? They just kicked people out, not even letting anyone finish their half-empty coffee.

Very cool. Very awesome.

Customers were shooed out one by one. A few locals grumbled, but one glare from the men in black shut them up, and they left with their heads down.

Lin Mo and Dongfang Shuye didn’t move.

They stayed at their seats by the window—one eating cake, one drinking coffee—as if they didn’t see the crowd at all.

After the entire Starbucks had been cleared, the door was shut, and the “Closed” sign was hung up.

Footsteps echoed from the direction of the counter.

A man came around from behind the espresso machine, grinding beans, pulling shots, and steaming milk himself—his movements as practiced as if he’d worked there for three years.

After finishing, he picked up the cup, strolled leisurely over to their table, and sat down.

“Long time no see, Dongfang Shuye. I said before—next time I run into you, I’d tear your head right off.”

So he was an old acquaintance of Dongfang Shuye’s.

His flawless Chinese made Lin Mo think that the Koreans must train their people to treat China as some kind of major rival.

Dongfang Shuye ignored him, merely introducing him to Lin Mo: “Song Junhe. We crossed paths back in the Bear territory. If he hadn’t gotten away back then, the one running his mouth here today wouldn’t be him.”

Honestly, was the Super Youth Corps that short on field agents?

Lin Mo had thought Song Junhe was only assigned to the Piao Guochang case.

Didn’t expect him to be handling Lin Mo’s case too.

Song Junhe plopped down right next to Dongfang Shuye.

“Dongfang Shuye, do you dare to accept my challenge?”

Why was it that in front of Piao Guochang, Song Junhe had been all meek and submissive, but here in front of Lin Mo, he dared to act so cocky?

Just thinking about it riled Lin Mo up.

Of course the real body was stronger than a clone—that was common sense!

Oh wait, you didn’t know it was a clone?

Still guilty!

Lin Mo raised his hand and delivered a slap across the air.

Smack!

Song Junhe flew sideways off his seat along with his freshly made coffee, crashing over two chairs and tumbling to a stop three meters away on the floor.

Coffee splattered everywhere, and the cup shattered.

The rest of the Super Youth Corps stood frozen on the spot.

They exchanged glances, hands already drifting toward their waists, but no one dared to move first.

That slap—they’d all seen it clearly. No physical contact, palm raised across the table—and Song Junhe went flying.

What the hell was that?

Song Junhe lay on the ground, half his face swollen into a lump, ears ringing, mouth full of the taste of blood.

He tried to get up, pushed himself twice, and collapsed again.

Lin Mo straightened up, looking down at Song Junhe from a distance.

“Who the hell told you to sit down?”

The words weren’t loud, but every single person in the Starbucks heard them with absolute clarity.

Song Junhe finally managed to pull himself up by gripping onto a table leg, wiped the blood from his mouth, and his eyes were filled with pure terror.

He’d never expected Lin Mo’s fighting style to blow him away this completely.