Chapter Thirty-Two: The Death of Rodrelev

Xuanbin Hotel, back street.

Jiang He pulled open the iron gate. The hallway ahead led directly to a stairwell. With a casual burst of focused internal force, he shattered the door lock with a thousand pounds of pressure, securing his own retreat.

Entering the stairwell, he found the environment quite dim. The fifth and sixth floors of the hotel had been largely merged into a single venue for a major event.

Jiang He stopped before a door. This time, it wasn't a matter of a simple lock; a square scanning device was mounted on the adjacent wall. To enter, he would need to swipe a card, and as expected, the special access card required would be registered to a specific name, leaving a security trail with every use.

"The most convenient option would be to have a waiter notify Rodlev, but this Russian is not currently trustworthy. Rhine went from being a weapons expert to a death-row inmate—something must have happened in between."

Jiang He reflected on his own shortcomings. He lacked many standard skills and, given the opportunity, needed comprehensive training. It wasn't just about the use and hacking of electronic devices; in fact, he couldn't even drive a car, and he couldn't guarantee a hit with a pistol from beyond thirty meters.

"But that doesn't mean this is a dead end."

Jiang He raised his palm and used his phone to illuminate it. Using his black gemstone ring as a mirror, he hypnotized himself. Based on neurological regulatory mechanisms, pigment cells under neural stimulation would cause pigments to blend and shift between layers, achieving various changes in body color. In simple terms, he was like a chameleon, though darkening himself was extremely dangerous. It depended on the degree and duration; once an irreversible threshold was crossed, he would have to resort to a healing potion.

As time ticked away, his emotions surged and ebbed, constantly stimulating his nerves until he gradually merged with the shadows.

At a certain moment, he struck the door with force, causing a loud, rattling clang.

Ten seconds later, the door swung open violently, and two security guards in black suits stepped out, sweeping the area with flashlights.

"What the hell was that noise?"

"Check upstairs."

Jiang He slipped past the gate, his energy levels dropping rapidly from the repeated use of hypnosis.

"It can't be used as a regular skill. It requires at least half an hour of adjustment and environmental simulation. Given the energy consumption, the cost-effectiveness is extremely low. Still, this feels like being the 'shadow figure' culprit in a detective manga."

Reaching the end of the corridor, Jiang He followed several guests into the restroom. When he emerged into the venue, the lively scene stood in stark contrast to his previous surroundings.

Guests were abundant, mingling and clinking glasses.

Even upon entry, one could immediately identify the focus of the room. The executive director of the Mexican New Bay Group was surrounded by a crowd, among whom was the chairman of the Anping Island Shipping Group.

"Considered the boss of my boss's boss."

Jiang He took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray and struck up a conversation with a young man in a tuxedo who was busy greeting guests.

"My friend, long time no see."

The young man turned, showing no confusion or hesitation. His eyes lit up with surprise as he said, "My good brother, I really didn't expect you to be here. How long has it been?"

The two shook hands and clinked glasses.

Jiang He took a sip of the alcoholic sparkling water—it tasted slightly sour, but he couldn't tell if it was good or bad.

The young man smiled and asked, "I don't know where your father is; I should go toast him."

"Why bother with him? Good things never fall to me anyway," Jiang He countered. "That Mexican fellow is quite famous, but is he really worth so many people fawning over him?"

The young man didn't care. "Don't listen to the rumors about New Bay being a corporate group. At the end of the day, they're just a gang. These thugs aren't really fit for high society, but their cash flow is massive. The economy hasn't been great in any industry this past year, so everyone wants a piece of the pie. Besides, it’s questionable whether this guy can even make it back home."

As they talked, Jiang He finished his champagne and took the opportunity to leave. He had roughly grasped the situation: the executive director had been pushed out of the New Bay Group and had fled to Shanghai for refuge, intending to unite several major shipping giants to transport Russian weaponry back home to turn the tide.

As for Rodlev, he was the executive director's partner, but rumors suggested he had repeatedly delayed the delivery of research results, and their relationship had reached a freezing point.

In the crowd, Rodlev sported a thick beard and a rugged face, with a rosy flush on his cheeks caused by the bitter cold of his homeland. He was known for his astonishing tolerance for alcohol.

Jiang He walked past him intentionally, but to his slight surprise, the man showed no reaction.

...

Half an hour later, Rodlev had finished several bottles of spirits on his own and wandered, swaying, toward the restroom. When the Russian man lifted his head from the sink, a cold gun barrel was pressed against the back of his head.

"Give it back to me."

Rodlev seemed to sober up instantly. He raised his hands and hurriedly said, "Calm down, please, stay calm. My friend, I suggest you just tell me what you lost. I don't want to die without knowing why, and besides, I don't even know you. I swear it's true."

Jiang He frowned and placed a photograph on the sink counter.

Rodlev looked at it, incredulous. "Hey, I recognize the place in the photo, but the person in the picture should be me and that guy Rhine!"

"I am Rhine Augustus."

"Impossible. Rhine came here with me."

Jiang He put his pistol back into his inventory. Faced with this opportunity, Rodlev made no move to resist.

"If you don't believe me, I can take you to find him."

The two returned to the venue. Rodlev called over a blonde young man in his late twenties and pulled a photograph from his wallet.

The background of both photos was identical, but the people were completely different.

The blonde man looked confused. "This isn't a funny joke."

Rodlev said, "Rhine is a doctoral student at Moscow State University who only arrived in Shanghai a few days ago. It’s clearly stated on the university's official website."

They borrowed a laptop from a waiter and logged onto the site; Rhine's information and photo were clear and unmistakable.

Jiang He pondered. He was certainly not Rhine; that identity came from the death-row inmate he had killed on the island. Now that there was a discrepancy with reality, objectively speaking, it was highly likely that he was the one with the problem.

The main quest was to retrieve the sent letter, and who it was sent to was undoubtedly the key.

The atmosphere grew heavy.

Suddenly, Jiang He leaped aside at full speed, an instinctive sense of crisis overwhelming him.

The next instant, the venue's window glass shattered. A bullet struck Rodlev between the brows, blowing away half his skull and leaving him to collapse into a pool of blood. The blonde man, seeing this, scrambled to hide under a dining table.

Screams erupted from the women in the room, and guests fled to the blind spots behind the walls. Just then, a second bullet struck. In the critical moment, the New Bay executive director's bodyguard pushed him aside, the bullet grazing his shoulder.

"Hide!"

"There's a sniper!"

"I knew the documentary filming was a lie!"

The scene descended into chaos. Jiang He retreated along the same path as fast as he could. The shooting would inevitably draw an investigation, and if his monocle were removed, his true identity would be exposed. Given the current player ecosystem, he would be in a very passive position.