Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Such a fast response!

Facing Bernard’s questioning, Fu Qian silently nodded to himself.

This person indeed seemed to have seen and known a lot.

Indeed, the chances of Chief Harry coming to buy books were practically nil; it looked like that group really had brought the matter of the “assassin” to his attention.

“I have a habit of taking walks at night.”

Under Bernard’s dead-fish eyes, Fu Qian gave a casual response.

Creak!

At this moment, the door of the bookstore had already been pushed open, and Chief Harry walked in, his large frame dimming the light in the bookstore by a shade.

After entering, his gaze immediately fixed on Fu Qian.

“Not bad at all.”

In response to Harry’s emotionless small talk, Fu Qian answered with a smile.

This one must have seen me enter just now.

“That’s good to hear.”

Harry nodded his head and pulled out a piece of paper, unfolding it in front of Fu Qian.

“Have you seen this man? His right hand should be injured.”

Uh!

Fu Qian looked at the sketch in Harry’s hand, and the venerable countenance of Old Master Lu Ming sprang from the paper.

It must be said that the technique was not bad; the banquet’s attendees were indeed talented, able to draw such a likeness from memory.

“I haven’t seen him.”

As Fu Qian marveled, he shook his head, and Bernard hummed beside him, indicating he had never seen the person in the sketch either.

Hmm.

Chief Harry, not surprised in the least, tucked the sketch away.

“I’m investigating an attempted poisoning case, and it’s almost certain that this outsider did it. If you see this man, remember to notify me immediately.”

“No problem.”

“Good!”

Both Fu Qian and Bernard responded listlessly.

“Very good!”

Chief Harry praised them and then pointed at Fu Qian.

“You, come with me.”

“Why?”

Although Fu Qian did not think things would be so simple, the sketch clearly did not match, and he couldn’t think of why this one would need him.

“All outsiders who have recently come to Byeluk need to take a trip to the police station with me, to be identified by the victim.”

“But it’s obviously different, isn’t it?”

So that was it, Fu Qian pointed to the sketch.

“Different, but you need to come with me.”

Harry tapped his waist, speaking in an indisputable tone.

“Understood.”

Fu Qian finished his coffee in one gulp and nodded to Bernard in a rather familiar manner.

“Too bad, it looks like we’ll have to chat another time.”

The latter watched him stiffly, toying with his messy hair in a silently frantic manner.

…

The police station, not too large in size, was not far from the bookstore.

Considering that Fu Qian looked nothing like the image on the sketch, Chief Harry made no extra moves on the way there, simply driving in silence.

Upon arriving at the destination, Fu Qian’s first sight was that of an acquaintance—Dean Collins.

The old man was clad in a long trench coat, his gaze deep and quiet, saying nothing.

Even when Fu Qian and Harry entered, his expression didn’t change.

The sketch must have been provided to Harry by him.

Harry greeted Collins and signaled for him to come forward and identify.

Collins nodded silently, staring straight at Fu Qian.

This one was a bit different!

While he observed Fu Qian, Fu Qian was also observing him.

And soon Fu Qian confirmed that, unlike Grace, Collins was still in that special state.

Even standing before him, in his perception, Collins was still a void.

So, is each person different?

There wasn’t a unified time when everyone would come out of their state.

Fu Qian reached the first conclusion.

Gausman, Nate, Grace, Collins—so far, each of them had behaved differently.

It seemed that the transitions between two states were entirely individualized, though they tended to be more concentrated at night.

“No.”

After a lengthy discernment, Collins finally spoke up.

“Understood.”

Chief Harry spoke in an unsurprised tone, looking at Fu Qian.

“You may go now, Mr. Fu Qian. Thank you for your cooperation. If you encounter any trouble in Byeluk, feel free to come to me at any time.”

After finishing, he turned his head toward Collins.

“This was the last foreigner. If I catch other suspects, I will notify you then to identify them.”

“Alright.”

Collins responded evenly, his gaze following Fu Qian, who was already walking toward the exit.

“Thanks for your help, I’ll take my leave now.”

Without waiting for Harry to respond, he immediately followed in Fu Qian’s footsteps and left the police station.

…

“Mr. Fu Qian!”

Deliberately slowing his pace, Fu Qian soon heard someone calling from behind.

After he stopped, Collins, with quick strides, caught up to him.

“I’m Collins.”

Catching up to Fu Qian, he introduced himself on his own accord.

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

“It’s mainly because we had an incident last night.”

“To prevent more people from getting hurt, we hope to find the murderer as soon as possible.”

“It’s okay.”

Listening to the scripted-sounding apology, Fu Qian smiled and shook his head, indicating it was no problem.

“Are you enjoying Byeluk? If you’re interested, I could recommend a few places.”

Collins was very polite, walking alongside Fu Qian.

“That would be wonderful!”

Whoosh!

The next moment, a dull booming sound echoed, and Fu Qian’s body hit the ground in response.

Collins now held a dark iron-colored gun in his hand, from which a wisp of smoke drifted.

“Your disguise skills are highly sophisticated, but you still couldn’t fool me.”

Pointing at Fu Qian’s body on the ground, Collins snorted.

“Do you think why, even though I knew it wasn’t your true face, I still provided the portrait?”

“Because only in this way could I get a cunning opponent like you to lower your guard.”

“The reason I didn’t identify you directly inside was that I didn’t want to give you a chance to argue.”

“For a bug like you, I choose to send you on your way directly.”

“This is what happens when you cause trouble in Byeluk.”

After delivering a lengthy monologue, Collins aimed the gun at Fu Qian’s head, ready to fire two more shots.

However, the next moment, a shadow flashed, and Fu Qian, who had been lying on the ground, was now standing next to him, casually dusting off his clothes.

…

The silencer was already fitted in advance!

Fu Qian looked at the weapon in Collins’s hand, clicking his tongue in appreciation.

So the plot was like this.

In Collins’s script, the assassin was supposed to flee, and he would go to Chief Harry for help to search for all the foreigners.

Then, using a fake portrait to numb himself, Collins would ultimately seek an opportunity to make a lethal strike, and the assassin would be vanquished.

Regardless of how the plot was composed, it was not unfolding as expected. What reaction would you, the “Actor,” have now?

Fu Qian watched Collins’s face, not missing a single detail.

Visible to the naked eye, Collins’s face showed intense pain and revulsion.

However, within a few seconds, those expressions rapidly subsided and Collins’s complexion returned to normal.

Hmph!

He gave a heavy snort.

“I knew you were playing dead.”

…