11 Escape

Qiao Yuyan fastened her straps with swift precision and glanced up at the ventilation duct above. If she retreated into it now, she would be trapped like a rat in a jar, with no chance of escape.

There was no time for hesitation. She dashed to the window in a few strides.

The window of this archives room was designed with a difficult layout, lacking any ledge to provide leverage. She leaped into the air, her specialized glove gripping the wall beside the window so firmly that it stuck her to the surface. With her right hand, she drew a glass-breaker from her waist and struck the glass with force.

The archives window was fitted with triple-layered bulletproof glass. Even with the GSC-designed tool specifically made for such material, it took a great deal of effort for Qiao Yuyan to carve out a small notch.

Discarding the hammer, she jammed her right fingers into the fracture and flexed her arm muscles, prying the shattered glass off in a single piece.

Just as she poked her head out to escape, a powerful hand seized her right ankle and yanked her violently back inside.

Qiao Yuyan was slammed hard against the floor. In the split second before impact, she twisted her body rapidly. Pain radiated from her captured ankle, but she ignored it, driving her free left leg straight toward her assailant’s face.

The man reacted with lightning speed, tilting his head to dodge the strike with ease.

Qiao Yuyan seized the moment to break free. Before she could even find her footing, a fist whistled through the air toward her head. Unable to evade completely, she shifted her angle slightly, but the punch still knocked her night-vision goggles to the floor.

Without the aid of the goggles, Qiao Yuyan remained unfazed. Guided by the shift in the wind, she accurately blocked the man’s second punch with her hand while simultaneously driving her left knee hard into his abdomen.

The man groaned in pain and stumbled back a step.

In that brief interval, Qiao Yuyan made out his silhouette. He was a tall man. Though she could not see his face in the gloom, their short exchange revealed that his combat skills were highly professional.

The objective was already in hand, and Qiao Yuyan had no desire to tangle with him any longer. She turned and bolted toward the window again.

Seeing her attempt to flee, the man took a long stride, grabbed her ankle once more, and pulled hard.

Qiao Yuyan’s momentum faltered. This time she could not escape; the pull sent her crashing into a row of mobile shelving units.

With a deafening "bang," the cabinets shook violently, causing file folders to slide off the shelves. The man was struck by the falling folders and staggered back.

Qiao Yuyan collapsed onto the floor. Ignoring the pain in her back, she kicked out fiercely at the man’s lower leg.

The edge of her reinforced combat boot slammed into his left shin. The man gasped in agony, his knee buckling as he dropped to the floor.

Frustrated by his repeated interference, Qiao Yuyan pushed herself up with one hand, clamped her legs around his neck, and twisted her torso with all her strength, throwing him to the ground.

At that moment, a shrill, piercing alarm echoed through the entire building.

The fifteen-minute time limit had expired. Lin Shiyue’s control had failed, and the archives’ intelligent system had restored its functions.

Qiao Yuyan scrambled onto the window frame.

Outside the automatically locked blast door, someone pounded on it, shouting anxiously, "Mr. Gu? Mr. Gu! Are you in there?"

So, he was Gu Zhixu?

Qiao Yuyan turned to look at the disheveled man on the floor. She whistled at him and said in a low, playful voice, "Mr. Gu, until we meet again."

With that, she leaped out the window.

Having finally managed to open the blast door, the assistant was nearly struck by a heart attack at the sight of someone jumping out of the window.

He hurriedly turned on the lights to find Mr. Gu—usually so composed and calm—now drenched in sweat, his hair disheveled and plastered to his forehead. There were clear footprints on his shirt and trousers, and he was leaning against a filing cabinet, struggling to stand.

The room was in shambles, with shards of glass scattered everywhere and file folders spilled across the floor.

The assistant rushed forward to support him. "Mr. Gu, are you alright?"

Gu Zhixu steadied himself, a faint, meaningful smile curling his lips. "That bunch of losers finally put some real money on the table this time. Who did they hire?"

The specialized blast door locked automatically the moment it was released. The assistant opened it again and helped Gu Zhixu walk slowly outside.

The corridor was empty. The assistant whispered, "The person who took the job is very mysterious. We’ve exhausted all our resources and still haven't identified exactly who it is, but there’s word on the street that it might be GSC."

"GSC..." Gu Zhixu repeated softly.

If it was GSC, then the woman tonight was likely their chief gold-hunter, Fable.

She certainly had some talent; she was leagues above the usual incompetent fools.

It was fortunate that it was Fable.

She had an incredibly high success rate, and she was known for valuing profit over taking lives. Her reputation on the dark web was excellent. Otherwise, with those combat skills, if it had been someone else, he might not have walked away in one piece. After all, there were too many hunters who would stop at nothing to complete a mission.

Seeing Gu Zhixu lost in thought, the assistant didn't disturb him. He quietly helped him to a sofa in the CEO’s office and, after a moment of hesitation, asked softly, "Mr. Gu, should I call a doctor?"

"No need." Gu Zhixu propped his foot on the coffee table and rolled up his trouser leg. The skin over his shin was bruised and slightly swollen. It looked frightening, but he knew his own condition—no bones were broken. "Go get me some ice."

The assistant acknowledged the order and was about to leave when Gu Zhixu called him back. "Spread the word: the group has been robbed, confidential files have been stolen, and I have sustained a serious leg injury that requires rest for a few days."

The assistant, who had been with Gu Zhixu for nearly eight years, immediately grasped his intention and nodded before leaving.

Gu Zhixu leaned back on the sofa, gazing at the ventilation duct on the ceiling with a cryptic smile.

...

The moment Qiao Yuyan jumped from the window, she deployed her gliding device, soaring into the early morning summer sky like a night owl.

In Chenxing City, light pollution was severe; the night sky held no stars, only a single, bright moon.

The city lights and the moonlight cast her silhouette in sharp relief.

She glanced back in mid-air to see a swarm of people in security uniforms rushing from the Gu building in her direction.

A smile touched Qiao Yuyan’s lips as she maneuvered her device to glide toward the prearranged rendezvous point.

The speed of her flight far exceeded that of ground vehicles. Seeing they couldn't catch her, the security team hurriedly deployed drones.

However, they were a step too late.

Qiao Yuyan landed steadily in a garden on the outskirts of the city, where the lush summer foliage instantly swallowed her trail.

By the time the security guards arrived, the place was empty, leaving not even a trace behind.

Qiao Yuyan sat in the car An Chen had borrowed from a scrap yard, her fingers unconsciously stroking the paper file folder.

The folder was sealed with a tamper-evident strip. Although they had ways to open it without a trace, she wasn't curious about the contents.

Reviewing the mission, aside from the Mr. Gu who had fought her with genuine ferocity and nearly caused her to fail at the last second, the whole affair felt strangely peculiar when examined closely.

Qiao Yuyan’s fingers paused, and she tentatively pressed against the seal of the folder.

She curled her lips—so that was it.

She tossed the folder aside, no longer interested in the matter. Since the mission was complete, what followed had nothing to do with her.

It was 3:30 AM. The roads of Chenxing City were sparse, mostly occupied by dilapidated old cars and vans carrying common folk rushing to set up their early morning stalls.

The beat-up car An Chen had borrowed blended perfectly into the crowd, appearing entirely unremarkable.

"Beep—"

In the communicator, Lin Shiyue’s voice was calm. "Boss, I’ve evacuated safely."

"Good. Move to the next phase."