Chapter Forty-One: Dumdum Bullets

As soon as these words were spoken, the entire hall erupted in laughter, as if a pot had been set to boil. Yang Jiekai, looking innocent, addressed the crowd, “It was Minister Zhang who asked me to say that to him—not to any of you.”

“You… how dare you insult me!” Even Fat Wu understood this simple English phrase, let alone the “overseas returnee” Minister Zhang.

“Everyone heard it just now—it was you who insisted I say it!” Yang Jiekai feigned a look of pure innocence, regarding Minister Zhang with earnest eyes. “Minister Zhang, that’s the only English phrase I know. Could you translate it for me? What does ‘FUCK’ mean? Is it a way of greeting you? Oh, I get it now—is it a way of sending regards to your mother? That must be it, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have insisted so strongly that I say it to you just now, would you?”

The hall burst into raucous laughter once more.

Minister Zhang’s face turned from green to purple with rage. At a loss for words, he shot Yang Jiekai a venomous glare, muttered something about country bumpkins, and stormed off.

“Minister Zhang, FUCK, take care! I’ll FUCK you again tomorrow!” Yang Jiekai called out mischievously at Zhang’s retreating figure, then shrugged at the assembled staff before sauntering out.

A cigarette sailed through the air. Yang Jiekai caught it neatly, lit up, and grinned at Qin Feng and his two companions, who had somehow made their way to the door. “No fancy smokes today?” he joked.

Qin Feng curled his lip. “You should be grateful you’ve got anything to smoke at all.” Then, turning to Yang Jiekai, he said with a laugh, “Not bad, brother. First day on the job, you offend the president’s assistant. Second day, you cross the head of the marketing department. Two days at work, and you’ve already managed to tick off the company’s number two and three figures. That’s gotta be a record. Impressive!”

Yang Jiekai knew that the “number two” he mentioned was the president’s assistant, the elegant Lin Sha, but he was puzzled by the reference to the “number three.” “You mean that ‘returnee’ just now?”

Gongsun, standing nearby, jumped in. “What returnee? He was just abroad for two months, and now he walks around spouting English all day.”

“But he’s just a department head. Why call him the company’s number three?” Yang Jiekai asked.

Qin Feng explained, “The marketing department is the most important division in the company. Zhang Hua is its head, which gives him a lot of power and status. In the whole company, besides the president and Assistant Lin, he’s the most arrogant.”

Yang Jiekai wanted to ask more, but Qin Feng had already turned away, strolling over to the receptionist, Xiao Shi, and chatting her up with laughter and smiles.

Old Stick, standing nearby, glared after Qin Feng’s back with a scowl. “That kid’s bound to trip over a woman one of these days!”

“Exactly!” Gongsun chimed in, then also headed toward Xiao Shi, so incensed that Old Stick nearly stormed over and delivered a flying kick.

“Everyone has an eye for beauty,” Yang Jiekai said with a smile, watching Old Stick’s resentful expression.

Old Stick let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve told Qin Feng a hundred times: he can flirt with any woman in the company—except Xiao Shi!”

“Why? Don’t tell me you’re sweet on her too?” Yang Jiekai teased.

Old Stick offered no reply, merely sighing again before walking out.

The day’s work, though somewhat dull, was far from tedious. Surerui Group, by its very nature, was teeming with beautiful women everywhere. As he wandered about, Yang Jiekai found himself rating the various beauties, and before he knew it, it was time to clock out.

After changing clothes, Qin Feng and the others invited Yang Jiekai to dinner, but he declined with a genial smile. He roamed the vicinity of the company for a while on his own before finally entering the underground parking lot, starting his car, and driving off at a leisurely pace.

Yang Jiekai did not head toward Shizhu Manor. Instead, he drove to the area behind the mountain, circled the place a few times, then returned to the city. He picked a random restaurant and had a simple dinner. Only after darkness fell did he start up his SUV again.

“A military exercise?” he mused aloud, steering toward the rear mountain. The usual air of nonchalance was gone from his face, replaced by a steady composure and a faint, knowing smile.

That morning’s news had claimed the army’s presence behind the mountain was due to a military exercise. Such an excuse might fool others, but not Yang Jiekai, who was a veritable expert among military experts.

A military exercise? What a joke. Never mind the obvious inconsistencies in the officers’ statements during the news broadcast—the terrain itself was enough to give it away. The rear mountain of Anhai City was perfectly ordinary, lacking any special features. Military exercises were typically held near a military district or in areas with distinctive terrain. There was no reason for the army to go out of its way to such an unremarkable spot. Moreover, during the brief shots of the troops in the news, Yang Jiekai had immediately noticed, from their bearing, their gear, and the way they handled their weapons, that these soldiers were not equipped with the remote sensing devices used for drills—they were carrying live ammunition.

Who ever heard of a military exercise with live rounds?

There could only be one explanation: something had happened in the rear mountain that the police could not handle—something that required the intervention of the army.

As for what exactly had happened, Yang Jiekai could not say, nor did he care. The fact that the army had been mobilized meant it was no ordinary affair. And wasn’t it precisely these big events that a bounty hunter like Yang Jiekai relished most?

Catching a few wanted criminals was mere child’s play—tonight, he was aiming for something big. If he managed to capture someone important enough that only the army could handle them, he'd hit the jackpot.

For a bounty hunter, danger was nothing more than a gleaming ingot of gold. The greater the danger, the bigger the gold.

The main entrance to the rear mountain of Anhai City had already been sealed off. Earlier, Yang Jiekai had circled the area in his car, finding the security much tighter than he’d expected. He abandoned any plan to slip in through the main entrance, instead parking his vehicle in a concealed spot and sneaking into the mountain from a desolate, thorn-choked area on the far side.

Although the Chinese military had greatly increased security this time, they hadn’t gone so far as to encircle the entire mountain. Instead, they focused on a few spots where the forest was thinner and easier to access. The rest of the area was so overgrown and treacherous that not even wild animals would willingly traverse it—let alone an ordinary person.

But Yang Jiekai was not an ordinary person—in fact, it could hardly even be said that he was fully “human.”

A master of jungle warfare, Yang Jiekai was not about to be deterred by a few brambles or vines. Once he entered the forest, his movements became as silent and elusive as a ghost.

The dense thickets were difficult enough to cross even in broad daylight; now, with night having fully fallen, it should have been almost impossible. Yet Yang Jiekai’s pace remained swift and sure. In the mercenary world, he had earned a resounding moniker: Night Owl.

The darkened jungle was Night Owl’s most dazzling stage.

After about an hour of weaving through the underbrush and drawing ever closer to the summit, Yang Jiekai slowed his pace. Each step he took was as light as a feather, utterly silent.

Rustle—

A faint disturbance in the foliage sounded not far off. In a forest, such noises could easily be dismissed as the wind, but to someone as attuned to the jungle as Yang Jiekai, it immediately signaled danger. In a heartbeat, he slipped behind a tree, blending seamlessly into the shadows.

To an ordinary ear, the rustling of leaves signaled nothing more than the night breeze. But to Night Owl, it was clear: these were the footsteps of humans.

There were two of them, both with specialized military training.

From that seemingly innocuous sound, Yang Jiekai had already deduced the precise details.

Although these two soldiers were not quite up to the standards of special forces—at best, they were scouts—they were of little concern to someone of Yang Jiekai’s caliber. Still, he had not come here to wage war. His goal was profit, and he was not in the habit of killing without reason—especially when the targets were fellow countrymen.

The footsteps drew nearer. Once they were within about five meters, Yang Jiekai sprang out from behind the trunk and barked, “Password!”

“Bright moon before my bed—reply!” Both soldiers simultaneously raised their weapons, but the moment they realized something was wrong, it was already too late.

Yang Jiekai moved like a phantom. Two swift and heavy knife-hand strikes landed at the base of their necks, and the soldiers collapsed to the ground without a sound.

He quickly selected the soldier whose build was most similar to his own, stripped off his camouflage uniform and gear, and donned them himself. Then he gagged both men, tied them back to back around a tree, and secured them tightly.

“Fits pretty well,” Yang Jiekai remarked, patting the camouflage on his own body with a familiar smile. For most of his life, military fatigues had been his standard attire.

He quickly inventoried the equipment. From what he saw, these two were clearly not from an ordinary unit—they were part of an elite force. Standard-issue automatic rifles, sidearms, bulletproof vests, grenades—everything was top grade. Regular local units could never afford such gear in quantity.

“Huh, even these are standard issue?” As he checked the equipment, Yang Jiekai discovered several magazines loaded with dum-dum rounds.

Dum-dum bullets are flat-nosed and specially modified. Their accuracy and range are far inferior to regular rounds, but at close range, their destructive power is horrific. If struck by one, the resulting wound would be the size of a soccer ball.

For humanitarian reasons, the United Nations has banned dum-dum bullets except in special anti-terror operations; their use in conventional warfare is strictly forbidden.

Yang Jiekai was startled to find these magazines, his expression gradually growing grave.

Could something truly extraordinary have happened here?

For a long moment, he stared at the magazines, lost in thought. Then, pocketing them again, he slipped away, vanishing into the night.