Spy Wars: Strong Agents Who Are Ruthless and Talk Little

Chapter 212 Conspiracy and Calculation

Dim light streamed in through the cracked windows, barely illuminating the old furnishings inside. The wooden floor, dilapidated from years of disrepair, creaked slightly, as if telling the history of the building.

He didn't enter immediately, but stood at the doorway, listening intently. Although there was no noticeable movement in the room, Su Ming knew that potential dangers were never obvious. He needed to be extremely cautious with every step he took; a single mistake could lead him into a well-laid trap.

He scanned every corner of the room, trying to find any suspicious signs. Several broken wires hung from the corners of the ceiling, the walls were covered in mold, and there seemed to be a damp vapor in the air. This atmosphere made him involuntarily wary.

Su Ming's heartbeat gradually calmed. He knew he had to remain calm at this moment; any extraneous emotion could become a flaw. He slowly entered the room, his steps light, trying not to make any noise on the wooden floor. However, just as he reached the center of the room, a faint light flashed from the corner, almost instantly disappearing.

Su Ming immediately realized it wasn't an illusion. He quickly crouched down, cloaking himself in the shadows. His fingers gently touched the hilt of the knife at his waist, feeling the sense of security brought by the cold metal.

The air suddenly grew tense, as if invisible eyes were watching his every move from the shadows. He held his breath, moving slowly and precisely, his eyes fixed on the direction of the flash of light. There was an old wooden cabinet, its half-open door teetering, seemingly about to fall apart with the slightest effort.

Su Ming knew that this might be the enemy's bait. The cabinet looked shabby, but its very existence was unusual. Just as he was about to approach, suddenly, a rapid sound of breaking wind suddenly hit him from behind -

Su Ming didn't hesitate, instinctively rolling to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack from behind. But his reaction was still a beat too slow, and the cold blade slashed across his cheek, sending a sharp pain through him. The sharp blade sliced ​​deeply into his skin, and warm blood flowed from the wound, dripping onto the ground.

Su Ming gritted his teeth, endured the pain, and quickly lunged forward, rolling behind a collapsed table, temporarily avoiding the enemy's sight. At the same time, his hand had already firmly grasped the knife at his waist, his eyes cold.

"You're quick, and your reaction is good." A low and hoarse voice came from behind him, carrying a cold murderous intent.

Su Ming didn't turn around or speak, his entire attention focused on the sounds around him. He knew the enemy was likely hiding in a corner he hadn't noticed, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Everything in this space seemed to be under the enemy's control, and he had to find a way out.

The blood on his face trickled down his jaw, the sticky feeling reminding him that this wasn't a training simulation, but a real life-or-death struggle. The smell of blood began to fill the air, and the wound on his cheek ached intensely, yet Su Ming remained undeterred. His hands remained steady as a rock, but his heartbeat began to accelerate.

"You look a little young. I didn't expect that Lao Zhang would let you come here to die." The man continued, with a tone of mockery and provocation, as if he was enjoying the pleasure of watching his prey struggling on the verge of death.

Su Ming closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and quickly analyzed the situation in his mind. The enemy's tone was clearly an attempt to disrupt his rhythm and throw him into emotional turmoil. But Su Ming would not be easily fooled. He knew that the most deadly weapon in spy warfare was not the enemy's knife, but psychological collapse.

He no longer waited, but slowly stood up, wiped the blood off his face, and said in a calm voice: "Do you know what Lao Zhang asked me to do?"

The other party's voice paused slightly, as if he was a little surprised by Su Ming's calmness. "Oh? Aren't you just here to die?"

Su Ming sneered and swung his sword backhandedly. The blade traced a sharp arc under the dim light, heading straight for the wooden cabinet. This time, he didn't have a clear target, but instead deliberately created a noise, trying to force the hidden enemy to reveal himself.

Sure enough, there was a slight noise from behind the wooden cabinet, and then a figure jumped out from the corner like lightning, running quickly towards the door, trying to escape.

Su Ming made a split-second decision. He didn't pursue, instead coldly staring at the man's swift movements. At that moment, he finally saw his enemy clearly: a thin, agile, middle-aged man with a fierce look in his eyes. The dagger in his hand still bore traces of Su Ming's blood, clearly the attacker.

However, this time, Su Ming didn't give him any chance to escape. The strength he had been accumulating exploded within him, and he swiftly swerved around the table, his steps light as the wind, instantly catching up with the man. The blade flashed through the air, slicing the man's back with a sharp blade.

The man groaned in pain, lost his balance, and fell to his knees. Without hesitation, Su Ming raised his hand and placed his knife on the man's neck. His voice was as cold as ice: "Do you think you can escape?"

The man gasped, his face pale from the pain, but his eyes held no sign of surrender. He forced his head up and looked at Su Ming, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Do you think killing me will be enough? You don't understand the depths of this... You alone are far from enough."

Su Ming's brow furrowed slightly, his inner vigilance rising again. The man's words made him realize that this mission might be far more complicated than he had imagined. Old Zhang had simply assigned him the task of bringing back a token, but what exactly did this token mean? Or, more accurately, what was the underlying situation? These questions coiled around his mind like a venomous snake, unable to escape.

However, Su Ming knew he had to focus on the situation at hand. He pressed the blade down slightly, forcing the man's head down a bit, and asked in a cold voice, "Where is the token?"

The man's smile faded, replaced by a cold despair. He coughed softly, spitting blood foam from his mouth, his eyes fixed on Su Ming. "A token? Ha... did you really think you could bring it back? Old Zhang... he asked you to come here just to see how far you could go."

Su Ming's heart sank. The message in the man's words made him realize that this mission had been shrouded in conspiracy and calculation from the very beginning, and he was just a pawn in it.