Chapter 14: Assassination
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This was a slightly old photograph, showing a young child kneeling in the picture, appearing to be around seven or eight years old.
But what contrasted with his innocence was the black leather collar around his neck, attached by a thin iron chain that extended out of the frame, as if he was being led by someone. His eyes filled with fear and helplessness, yet he mechanically performed a gesture loaded with adult connotations towards the camera. Next to him on the ground, there was a name tag that wrote: “NO.151 Meng Mo.”
Zhang Qian looked at the photo expressionlessly, as if he were observing something he had no interest in. However, his hand involuntarily stroked Wen Mo’s back.
Wen Mo said: “He’s the dean of our orphanage.”
He took the photo from Zhang Qian’s hand, covered it with his own, as if trying to hide an unbearable memory. He gently pressed his face against Zhang Qian’s chest.
“I’ve already paid him three million,” Wen Mo smiled faintly, “but he reappeared, bringing these photos.”
Zhang Qian continued to pat him, not interrupting his recollection.
“For seven years, I was in that orphanage for seven years, until one day, a child from the Wen family fell ill and needed the same rare blood type as me, so… I finally escaped. However, a year ago, he reappeared…”
Wen Mo suddenly tightened his grip on the photo, his eyes revealing a cold glint. “…I’ve dreamt of killing him.”
Zhang Qian asked directly, “How much does he want this time?”
Wen Mo closed his eyes and replied, “Ten million.”
It wasn’t an unaffordable amount, but Zhang Qian understood that this was an ongoing nightmare, always hiding a thunderstorm, waiting to be triggered one day. If these photos were to be exposed, even if the Huo family managed to suppress them, this Omega would no longer have any reason to exist.
After all, the Huo family was willing to diligently clean up various scandals for Commander Huo, but they certainly wouldn’t allow any stains on the inspirational civilian Omega they had created. How to reasonably make a tainted Omega disappear from the Huo family’s sight was something the Huo family would come up with a hundred different solutions for.
Wen Mo suddenly asked him, “Is it because you guys Alpha children will never have to experience these things?”
Zhang Qian didn’t answer; he just lowered his head and gently kissed him.
Back at the shooting range, Zhang Qian immediately made a phone call to one of his trusted aides, saying, “Help me investigate someone.”
One day and one night later, a man entered Zhang Qian’s office, holding a thick stack of documents, which he placed in front of Zhang Qian. He respectfully said, “Reporting, Commander, these are all the documents.”
“Okay, you can leave,” Zhang Qian said, exhaling a puff of smoke.
The man left silently and closed the door behind him.
In the spacious office, the air was filled with smoke, and the ashtray on the desk was piled high with cigarette butts. Zhang Qian finally finished reviewing the last document. He extinguished his cigarette, closed his eyes, and leaned back in his leather chair.
Zhang Qian recognized him.
This was a middle-aged alpha named Meng Xiong, once a famous philanthropist in the Federation. He had adopted many homeless Omega children and gave them his own surname. In front of the media, he would appear full of compassion, claiming that he would forever be the father of these unfortunate Omega children.
He had been named the annual charity figure by the O Rights Organization for more than a decade.
Unfortunately, his judgment was not great. As a political opportunist, he had invested all his wealth in the political enemies of the Huo family. With the downfall of his political allies, he was naturally implicated, arrested, and imprisoned. He had only been released a year ago.
Zhang Qian reopened the old dossier and pulled out a registration form numbered 151 for an orphan.
Name: Meng Mo
Gender: Male Omega
Date of Birth: December 12, 2201 AD
Date of Adoption: May 2202 AD (half a year old at the time)
Parents: Father unknown; Mother’s name unknown, female Omega, involved in the entertainment industry, deceased.
The registration form also included a one-year-old photo, showing the baby wearing an ill-fitting turtleneck sweater, holding a plastic doll in his hand. His innocent eyes wide open, looking at the camera with curiosity and confusion.
Zhang Qian couldn’t help but light another cigarette. He had actually quit smoking for over a year, but in the past two days, he had smoked almost as much as he had in the previous six months. The nicotine slowly permeated his lungs and seeped into his brain, leading his thoughts to some dangerous and irrational places.
He squinted his eyes.
Three days later, at noon sharp, Wen Mo dialed the number.
The person on the other end quickly provided a location for the exchange, a teahouse near a bustling market. Wen Mo agreed.
“I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Good,” the voice on the other end suddenly chuckled. “Finally, we’re going to meet, Xiao Mo. Daddy really missed you.”
Wen Mo didn’t respond and immediately hung up the phone.
Wen Mo had already prepared a suitable and appropriate excuse for going out yesterday. He arrived near the destination and parked his car in the parking lot of an apartment building not far from the market. Carrying a suitcase, he got out of the car, scanned the bustling crowd around him, put on sunglasses, and seamlessly blended into the crowd.
Once at the agreed-upon teahouse, Wen Mo dialed his phone again.
“I’m here.”
“Don’t be in a hurry. Go to the second floor and find table 13 by the window. I’ve ordered your favorite custard buns from your childhood,” the voice on the other end chuckled. “Go ahead, be a good child.”
Wen Mo hung up his phone and went upstairs, finding the table as instructed. Soon, a waiter arrived carrying a tray of food and appeared somewhat confused and hesitant as he inquired, “Someone ordered this for table 13. Was it you?”
Wen Mo nodded and replied, “Yes, that’s for me.”
The waiter proceeded to arrange the dishes on the table for him, casting a somewhat familiar glance at the sunglasses-wearing customer. However, with a busy restaurant downstairs and other customers requiring attention, he quickly dismissed the thought and left.
Wen Mo placed his suitcase on the floor and picked up disposable chopsticks. He took a bite of a custard bun and chewed it slowly, as if he were a regular customer enjoying his meal.
As he was about to take another bite of the second custard bun, the lighting around him dimmed, and a man sat down across from him.
After many years apart, the once fearsome Alpha man from his memories had transformed into a down-and-out old man. He had snow-white facial hair, deep-set cheeks, and had long lost the spirited demeanor of his youth. However, what remained unchanged were those damp, odorous eyes.
He squinted and grinned, “Xiao Mo, you’re such a good boy, just as I expected, you came alone.”
He deliberately waved his sleeve in front of Wen Mo to reveal the dark, gaping barrel of a gun hidden within.
Wen Mo calmly placed his chopsticks down and pushed the suitcase at his feet toward the man, saying, “This is what you wanted.”
Meng Xiong had chosen their location in a corner of the second floor, where there were few customers so no one paid attention to their conversation. Nevertheless, Meng Xiong discreetly scanned their surroundings before picking up the suitcase, placing it on the seat beside him, and opening it with one hand. He pulled out a stack of items, briefly checked their authenticity, and smiled when he was satisfied. Then, he placed everything back inside, closed the suitcase with a snap, and locked it.
Meng Xiong’s expression finally relaxed somewhat. He glanced at Wen Mo, picked up the chopsticks that Wen Mo had used, and scooped the half-eaten custard bun in front of him. He licked the spot where Wen Mo had bitten, then shoved the entire thing into his mouth.
“I’ve missed this taste,” he said, his eyes dripping with lasciviousness, like a slimy worm. “Remember when I used to bring you here to eat all the time when you were a kid?”
Wen Mo remained silent.
Meng Xiong wasn’t bothered by his silence. He just squinted his eyes, chewing and reminiscing, like old friends catching up.
“Xiao Mo, you’re really…..getting more and more beautiful.”
“I regret that it took me so many years to taste you again.”
Sunglasses shielded Wen Mo’s eyes, making him appear calm. He interrupted Meng Xiong, saying, “I hope this is the last time we meet.”
Meng Xiong chuckled, “As long as I can still get by, I won’t bother you again. But you know, things can always take unexpected turns…”
Wen Mo looked at him for a while and said, “You’re not a man of your word.”
Meng Xiong licked his lips, his smile growing stronger. “I wouldn’t lie to my Xiao Mo.”
He took the hand Wen Mo had placed on the table and held it in his own palm, gently kneading it. “Don’t worry. I won’t appear easily. Just…” He suddenly squinted his eyes, his expression turning sinister. “You need to convey a message to that person. They’re in a precarious situation themselves, so they shouldn’t bother me anymore. Otherwise… Moly, she’ll be your fate.”
Meng Xiong finally sensed the intense emotional turmoil in the Omega before him, the hand in his palm trembled slightly, just like when he was a child.
Meng Xiong grinned triumphantly, “Xiao Mo, oh, Xiao Mo, you always make people feel sorry for you. So many people lost their lives for you. You, are you naturally born to attract people?”
Wen Mo closed his eyes, and before him appeared the gentle gaze of a girl. She was covered in bruises, her clothes barely covering her body, but she still held Wen Mo tightly in her arms. She said, “Don’t be afraid.”
Even though she herself was terrified, she gently stroked his face, comforting him with a smile on her bruised lips. “Don’t be afraid, sister Lily is here.”
In truth, it was a very discordant kind of affection – warm, tender, and entirely out of place in the dark and cold orphanage. Wen Mo was an orphan, but he had experienced motherly love, even if it came from a thirteen-year-old Omega girl.
Wen Mo finally opened his eyes and quickly withdrew his hand from Meng Xiong’s palm. He said coldly, “You can leave.”
He picked up the glass of water from the table and drank it slowly, turning his face away.
Meng Xiong stood up, holding the briefcase, and wrapped half of his face with the old scarf, making him look even more like a destitute wanderer. He glanced at Wen Mo’s profile, squinted his eyes, and said, “Goodbye, my Xiao Mo.”
With that, he turned around, looked around warily, and hastily left.
Wen Mo let out a long sigh, standing by the window with the glass of water in hand. A comfortable afternoon breeze blew in, Wen Mo watched Meng Xiong’s hurried footsteps as he left the restaurant and quickly headed toward an inconspicuous alleyway.
Wen Mo took a sip of water, and for a moment, he thought he heard an incredibly faint sound of breaking air. But it must have been his imagination; how could he have such developed hearing? However, at that moment, he distinctly heard it. Along with the person who was about to disappear into the alleyway, his whole body shuddered.
The person’s briefcase fell to the ground, he turned back in disbelief. He fumbled for his phone in his pocket, there was a bulge inside, resembling the outline of a handgun. But soon, he lowered his hand, and Wen Mo saw blood slowly trickling from his temple.
His eyes gradually became vacant as he looked at Wen Mo standing by the window from a distance. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Wen Mo took off his sunglasses and smiled gently at him from afar.
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