Chapter 30: When You Die, All Your Money Will Be Mine

Does that idiot Xiong Kui have eagle eyes? Everyone used to call him "Blind Bear," but with marksmanship like that, the nickname hardly seems appropriate anymore.

From that moment on, Xiong Kui seemed possessed, ignoring everything else to focus his sights solely on birds in flight. Even though the birds were incredibly fast and their flight paths erratic, he managed to hit two out of ten in his subsequent shots—a performance others found nothing short of remarkable.

As time passed, they still had a good amount of ammunition left. After consulting with the range manager, Old Tong, Li Haibo decided to leave the remaining rounds in storage at the shooting range. They even happily agreed to return in a few days.

Two days slipped by quietly. Just after dinner, Mother Li was devoutly leading her children in prayer before the family shrine, with Li Haibo kneeling at the front.

"Coo-coo... coo-coo... coo-coo." Suddenly, the call of a turtledove drifted in from outside.

It was the pre-arranged signal with Ma Quanyi. Li Haibo’s heart tightened; it seemed Wu Yi was home tonight, and the opportunity was too good to miss. He stood up without hesitation and hurried out.

Watching his retreating figure, Mother Li muttered, "The boy’s gone mad! We’re in the middle of Shanghai—where would a turtledove come from?"

Li Haibo jogged to the entrance, where he found Ma Quanyi waiting at the alleyway, peering around anxiously.

"What’s the situation?" Li Haibo asked urgently.

"That bird-brained bastard came home as soon as it got dark; he’s eating inside right now," Ma Quanyi replied quickly.

"Let’s go. We can’t let him slip away again!"

The two sprinted to a spot opposite Wu Yi’s villa. Through the locked iron gates, they could clearly see the car parked in the yard. Li Haibo focused his "clairaudient" hearing. Good, the targets were all there, chatting and eating boisterously. Judging by their conversation, they had no plans to go out tonight.

You old lecher, always out chasing pleasure—finally, you’ve decided to stay put.

"Brother Bo! What’s the plan?" Ma Quanyi pulled out his pistol. Having worked together before, he knew the look on Li Haibo’s face: he was planning to kill.

"Wait until the housemaid finishes her shift," Li Haibo said, unwilling to harm the innocent.

Time crawled by until eight o'clock, when the maid finished her cleaning and left. Li Haibo’s hearing picked up the movements inside the villa clearly: seven people remained. One had slowly gone upstairs, four were sitting in the hall playing cards and gambling, and two were lounging in the yard, smoking.

"Brother Bo, can we move now?" Ma Quanyi’s eyes were brimming with restless energy.

"Little Ma, run to the end of the street. There’s a power box there. Cut the power—you know how to do that, right?" Li Haibo commanded calmly.

"No problem! And after that?"

"Keep watch at the gate. If you sense any danger, signal like a turtledove. You hear me?"

"Brother Bo, I really want to go in there and fight by your side!" Ma Quanyi protested.

"No! You’d only get in the way and ruin things. Guard the gate and make sure that maid doesn’t come back."

"Alright!" Though reluctant, Ma Quanyi turned and ran toward the end of the street.

Just a minute later, a sharp "pop" echoed out, and the streetlights went dark, plunging the area into shadow.

"Heh heh... time to close your eyes, it’s dark now!" A sly smile curled on Li Haibo’s lips.

He pulled on his mask, activated his spatial portal to shield his front, and drew a screwdriver from his inventory with his right hand. Lowering his body, he sprinted like a panther and vaulted over the wall with effortless grace.

In the living room, the gamblers were annoyed by the sudden blackout, cursing the power company.

"A-Kang! Did you hear something strange just now?" one of the men in the yard asked his companion.

"No!"

At that moment, Li Haibo seized the opportunity. He flicked his right hand, and two screwdrivers flew through the air like arrows, striking their targets precisely in the center of their foreheads.

"Thud... thud... ugh!" With two muffled sounds, the men collapsed like marionettes with cut strings. Their cigarettes fell, scattering a few faint sparks in the darkness.

Li Haibo remained expressionless, like a specter of death. He walked slowly toward the living room, and as he passed the car, he thought for a moment and tucked it into his inventory.

"A-Can! The power’s out!" a voice called out nervously from upstairs.

"I know, Boss! I’m looking for candles!" A-Can shouted back from the living room.

"A-Kang! Bring your lighter!" A-Can’s voice rang out again. "A-Kang... A-Kang?"

"What’s wrong, A-Can?" the voice from upstairs asked with a hint of suspicion.

"I don’t know. A-Kang isn’t answering me!"

Just then, the men in the living room, aided by the faint starlight, vaguely saw a dark figure standing at the doorway, wearing a fedora just like A-Kang’s.

"Who’s there? A-Kang? Stop fucking around!" one of them shouted, trying to bolster his courage.

"Heh... heh... heh..." Li Haibo let out a low, dark laugh.

Thinking it was their friend’s prank, the men were incensed. "Damn you! A-Kang, are you trying to scare us to death?"

Li Haibo deactivated his spatial shield and, with both hands moving like lightning, launched four screwdrivers, each carrying the chill of death.

"Ah!" Only one of the four let out a shrill scream before falling silent.

"Crash!" A chair toppled upstairs, followed by the sound of someone frantically rummaging through cabinets in the dark.

Li Haibo’s eyes narrowed. He moved with the wind, charged upstairs, and kicked the door open without hesitation.

"Who are you? Don’t kill me! I’ll give you money, I have plenty of money!" the man inside begged in terror.

"Thud." Li Haibo remained unmoved; the screwdriver flew like lightning.

"You idiot, once you’re dead, all your money will be mine anyway!"

Just then, the power surged back on. The room flooded with bright light, revealing a man in his fifties with a goatee, slumped against the wall. A new wooden-handled screwdriver was buried in his chest, right over his heart. His right hand still gripped a revolver, but the bullets had scattered across the floor. His body twitched a few times—he was clearly beyond saving.