Chapter 31: Chapter 31: Fire Your 9 Clans
Early morning. Gentle sunlight blanketed Z City.
The city center, despite a certain stillness, showed no signs of chaos.
On the outskirts of the city, however, a large crowd of masked figures dressed in black was on a rampage, smashing and looting.
After all, not everyone desired peace. With Z City currently lawless, it was only natural that many would resort to smashing and looting.
Places like supermarkets, shops, and jewelry stores were picked clean with meticulous care; being looted eight times in a single day was considered a low estimate.
But compared to the chaos on the outskirts, the tranquility of the city center was far more noteworthy.
"Sir, the intel on this Fang Can is ready."
Inside Z City’s underground base, a researcher handed a stack of documents to The Gimmick King.
Casually taking the documents, The Gimmick King pulled out the first page and glanced over it.
Name: Fang Can
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Home Address: No. XX, XX Street, XX Avenue, Z City
Father: Fang Tao
Mother: Yang Huaqin
Date of Birth: ...
After a quick glance at the general contents of the page, The Gimmick King tossed the file aside.
He didn’t even bother trying to analyze it himself, knowing full well he wasn’t cut out for that sort of thing.
So he turned to the few "external brains" before him and said nonchalantly, "Go on. Give me your analysis."
A man in glasses gently pushed them up his nose.
"According to the file, the boy showed no signs of being a superhuman prior to yesterday. And to date, we haven’t found anything else about him that’s out of the ordinary."
"So, you’re saying he’s a fake? A phony superhuman? Just a normal person like his biological parents," The Gimmick King deduced.
"No. An analysis of his life path reveals numerous coincidences. For instance, a few years ago, Fang Can’s father suddenly won tens of millions."
"According to our investigation of the data from that year, that set of numbers wasn’t supposed to win. A staff member’s error resulted in his father hitting the jackpot. If this wasn’t a coincidence, it can only mean that Fang Can’s ability might be related to luck."
"However, there’s another point of suspicion. We pulled the surveillance from Fang Can’s classroom yesterday. His classmates all turned their heads in unison without any discussion. I suspect he also possesses a mind-suggestion type of ability, but that contradicts the previous theory."
"Of course, there is another possibility," another man in glasses chimed in.
"What if he really only has one superpower, a luck-based one? In that case, is it possible he was just lucky enough to have transmigrated to an Otherworld?"
"Transmigration?" The Gimmick King asked, hesitating.
"Correct. What if it wasn’t a mind-suggestion ability, but an external manifestation of his Heart Image? After all, we’ve already discovered more than one citizen who has transmigrated to an Otherworld," an analyst said.
"The only question now is how that guy managed to reach such a level in less than seven days," an analyst said.
’Interesting. A superhuman who’s also a martial arts genius?’
The Gimmick King’s right fist slowly clenched. "Then I’ll go meet this compatriot of mine. If I want to know something, I’ll just ask him directly. That’ll save some trouble."
"No, Sir. I strongly advise against going to cause trouble for Fang Can right now."
"Why not? You think I can’t handle that little punk?" The Gimmick King said with a frown.
Before the analyst could explain, The Gimmick King’s phone suddenly started ringing, drawing the gazes of the other analysts.
Just as he was preparing to head out, he impatiently pulled out his phone and answered. "What is it? I’m busy."
A panicked voice erupted from the other end of the line. "Boss, the one thousand Tang San replicas we cultured based on the novel *Douluo Continent* just suddenly dropped dead!"
"What? You’re saying a thousand Tang Sans are dead? How did they die?"
The Gimmick King was aghast. ’Don’t tell me my brilliant plan is dead in the water before it’s even been implemented!’
"I heard it was caused by an operator error. The staff member responsible has already been fired."
"Damn it! How could I be so unlucky!" The Gimmick King cursed, then his expression froze. "Wait... unlucky?"
"Sir, this is exactly why we advised against you getting involved personally," an analyst at his side explained.
"According to historical data, while luck-based superhumans have no direct destructive capabilities, their sphere of influence is incredibly broad."
"There is a record of a confrontation between a State Level superhuman and a luck-wielder. The result was catastrophic," the analyst said.
The Gimmick King raised an eyebrow. "And what was that?"
The analyst explained, "The luck-wielder, despite only having the body of a normal person, managed to evade a State Level powerhouse sent to kill him for three whole days before finally being found."
"And while the State Level superhuman did succeed in killing the target, apart from the superhuman himself being fine, his entire clan—all nine degrees of kinship—dropped dead one after another within those three days."
"By the time that superhuman finally died, statistics showed he had caused at least ten billion in economic losses."
"Uhhh..." Hearing the analyst’s story, The Gimmick King, who had been about to leave, froze in his tracks. Then he said:
"Forget it. We’ll leave it at that. Continue monitoring the situation in Z City. Don’t bother me unless it’s important. I’m going back to restart my Infinite Protagonist Project."
The analysts breathed a collective sigh of relief as they watched The Gimmick King beat a hasty retreat.
They didn’t doubt The Gimmick King’s ability to kill Fang Can. They were simply worried that when he fought, *his* entire clan—which, as the masterminds, included them—would get caught in the fallout and die one by one in a series of accidents.
After all, when superhumans fought, the unit of destruction was the clan. The thought alone was horrifying.
Being able to talk him out of it was the best possible outcome.
Meanwhile, in the villa above the base, Fang Can was scratching his head, feeling the effects of his Misfortune’s Reversal suddenly surge and then vanish.
’Did some kind of danger just pass me by?’ Fang Can wondered, looking up at the sky. He didn’t see any falling meteors.
After pondering for a long time and finding no source of the danger, Fang Can saw his aptitude had returned to normal and decided to just drop it.
Later that day, after an afternoon of exercise, just as he pushed his body’s mutation level to 5.8%, there was a knock on the villa’s main door.
He opened the door slightly and saw the mayor peeking in with a smile. "I’m pleased to report that I haven’t failed my mission. Everything you asked for has been prepared."
As he spoke, the mayor pushed a briefcase inside.
"Young Master Fang, these are the items you requested. I won’t disturb your rest any further. Feel free to contact me if there are any problems," the mayor said with a smile, already backing quietly out of the room.
Fang Can nodded, satisfied with Mayor Li’s attitude.
He opened the briefcase. Inside were several military-grade grenades, a handgun and ammunition, and several bags filled with all sorts of poisons.
Looking over the items, Fang Can picked up one of the bags. The label bore the chemical name for arsenic trioxide. The bag contained at least a thousand pellets.
Comments