Chapter 575
Perfect Professional Role Playing, The Strange Clown Mask
Chapter 575 Perfect Professional Role Playing, The Strange Clown Mask
The bedroom lights were off.
The cool moonlight streamed through the glass window, casting a faint, indistinct silvery-white shadow on the floor.
Fang Cheng sat quietly at the table, his gaze fixed on the two completely different masks.
One is deathly pale and grotesque, the other is comical and ridiculous.
They reflected a cold, eerie light under the moonlight, their mouths stretched into exaggerated arcs.
It's as if he's silently telling us about another, unknown side of him as he walks through the world.
Fang Cheng reached out and gently stroked the white demon mask.
His eyes were calm as still water, but inside he was engaged in a fierce self-analysis.
The words Ma Donghe had used to persuade him to join the Special Investigation Team at the barbecue stand were still echoing in his ears.
He appeared calm at the time, but a chord deep within him was quietly plucked, triggering a profound reflection on his current situation.
The identity of "White Owl" can be said to be the embodiment of his bloody rampage and vengeful spirit in the underworld.
It brought itself its initial fame, but also made itself a synonym for killing and violence.
But Fang Cheng knew very well that this kind of "justice" that was outside the rules was ultimately a double-edged sword.
It can cut off the enemies before it, but sooner or later it will also bring about a more powerful judgment from the order itself.
As Fang Cheng's targets became increasingly powerful, from gangsters to cyborgs from the Noah Organization, and then to those high-ranking S-class ability users.
The power he revealed had long exceeded the scope of ordinary ability users.
The resulting turmoil and its spreading impact have grown increasingly significant, attracting the attention of various forces.
In this situation, it is undoubtedly very difficult to remain unscathed and live peacefully.
There's a saying that goes, "If you walk by the river long enough, you're bound to get your shoes wet."
No matter how careful he is with his actions, he will always leave some trace.
Eyewitness accounts, surveillance footage, and even the battlefields ravaged by bombing...
These clues might be unsolvable mysteries for ordinary police officers.
But for the special investigation team, which represents official law enforcement, as long as enough resources are invested in the investigation, piecing together the truth is only a matter of time.
How should I conduct myself then?
Is it to become a fugitive, hunted by the entire state apparatus?
Or should we go all out, confront the whole world head-on, slaughter them until rivers of blood flow, and no one dares to stop us, for the world to bow down and submit?
Fang Cheng sat quietly with his eyes lowered, his aura restrained, yet a violent power was faintly surging within him.
Neither of these outcomes was the result he wanted.
Let alone whether he actually has the ability to go so far as to make enemies of the world.
By his very nature, he was ultimately a peace-loving person who longed for a peaceful life...
As my thoughts drifted, the neon-lit night outside the window grew increasingly enchanting.
Fang Cheng raised his head and looked at the dazzling skyline in the distance.
The city center of East Metropolis was still lit up all night, like a forest of steel and concrete.
Those towering skyscrapers stand like giants in the darkness, overlooking the city.
In a daze, one can almost see desires and sins surging in the shadows, silently growing beneath the surface of prosperity.
After staring silently for a long while, Fang Cheng slowly withdrew his gaze.
He looked again at the pale, demonic mask before him, then turned to another red clown mask.
This mask was a trophy I found at the scene that night after intercepting military cargo at the Silver Wing Building and killing the Masked Man.
It represents a darkness far deeper and more terrifying than the underground world of Dongdu.
The Noah Organization, the mysterious Xiao family, the all-powerful military...
Even that "ideal land" hidden behind all the fog, existing like a nightmare.
Ever since he was dragged into the vortex of this struggle after massacring members of the Red Tiger Gang at the dock warehouse, he has been unable to extricate himself.
Then, he took ruthless action at the Silver Wing Tower, shooting down an armed helicopter and wiping out the military's secret operations team.
It's fair to say he's standing on the edge of a precipice.
Once his true identity is connected to these events in any way.
He will no longer face an investigation by a few people with supernatural abilities, or retaliation from a powerful family or conglomerate.
That would be a thunderous strike from the state apparatus, from a massive organization, powerful enough to crush everything to dust.
His family, the Illuminati he just founded, and everyone connected to him will be completely wiped out in this storm, leaving no trace.
Even though Fang Cheng possesses formidable strength and can protect his own life, he cannot guarantee the safety of those around him.
Does this mean that I'll have to stage a grand drama of hiding my identity, diligently cultivating, and ultimately returning to take revenge?
Fang Cheng's lips twitched slightly, and he shook his head with a smile.
This kind of performance is clearly not his style.
In fact, he had been playing a fake role all along, hiding his true identity.
Whether it's working as a top sparring partner in a fight club or pursuing a master's degree in law school, it's all about having a mask that allows you to stand upright in the sunlight and conceal your dark true nature.
If that's the case, why not find a more perfect stage that can accommodate all the secrets, and play a more significant role?
Ma Donghe's words tonight, or rather, the path that Ma Jianguo and Shi Chengyi paved for him, have once again been clearly laid out before him.
That is, to join the Special Investigations Unit.
Fang Cheng had many concerns when he initially refused.
It's simply because they hate being bound, dislike the power struggles within the bureaucratic system, and are unwilling to entrust their secrets and their lives to others.
But now, the situation has changed.
Fang Cheng withdrew his gaze from the mask and landed on his outstretched palm.
I recall the conversation I had with Shi Chengyi at Xishan Cemetery a month and a half ago.
His current power can be said to have reached a new level, giving him more control over his own destiny.
At the same time, the ever-approaching external threats are urging him to make a choice as soon as possible.
To ensure the safety of his family and prevent them from being harmed by the enemy, Fang Cheng made some special arrangements.
For example, have Da Chui and Hou Zi set up a surveillance network in Wanghu Town and Jiuchang Street.
But this kind of protection is as fragile as a windowpane that can be torn with a single poke when faced with a truly colossal object.
Facing adversaries of the military, special search teams, or even the likes of "Utopia".
So-called monitoring networks can only serve as early warning systems at best.
It only buys him a negligible amount of reaction time and cannot form an effective defense.
Fang Cheng actually needs a sufficiently solid "shell," a legitimate identity backed by the authorities.
This identity can serve as a firewall.
The name "Fang Cheng" must be completely separated from the bloody past of "Bai Xiao," the secrets of the Silver Wing Building, and the monstrous storm that may strike in the future.
Even an official facade, if fake, can still muddy the waters.
If someone follows the clues and investigates them, they will become suspicious.
The official identity from the Special Investigations Unit, with its prestigious reputation, would likely make the other party wary and hesitant.
That brief moment of hesitation would give him ample time to react, to conceal his identity, and to cover up any loopholes.
Just like when he clashed with "Ghost Scythe" at the unfinished building, Fang Cheng deliberately leaked the news of his cooperation with the special search team, intentionally passing on the "secret".
Using this false intelligence, he successfully diverted the attention of Utopia to the Special Investigation Team, buying himself more room to maneuver. Fang Cheng's lips curled slightly, a calculating glint in his eyes.
At that time, Utopia discovered that he had indeed joined the Special Investigation Team and become a full member.
This will inevitably further confirm this false information, making them more cautious and hesitant to act rashly and alert the enemy.
Besides the safety of his family and himself, the newly established Illuminati is still just a seedling that needs his personal protection.
This fledgling organization could offer him extremely limited support.
On the contrary, it requires him, as the leader, to constantly invest energy and effort in managing it.
Both he and all the members of the Illuminati need a stable period of development.
Joining an official organization would provide the strongest guarantee for this stability.
Moreover, joining the Special Investigations Team would offer him far more than just protection.
Fang Cheng's eyes were deep and serious as the image of his father's face, which had long since become blurred in his memory, surfaced in his mind.
To find out the cause of his father's death and to uncover the details of "Utopia," he needs a massive amount of intelligence.
The Special Investigation Team, as the highest-level agency in Xia Kingdom for handling extraordinary events, is undoubtedly the country's largest intelligence center.
Its archives must hold all the answers he seeks.
This is a high-level realm that he, as an ordinary citizen, can never reach.
As for Ma Donghe's statement about applying to the "medical team".
This proposal, meticulously designed by Ma Jianguo and Shi Chengyi, struck at all his concerns and unlocked the last shackle in his heart.
The medical team was under the logistics department, far from the center of the power struggle.
It does not need to charge into battle and put itself in unpredictable danger.
At the same time, it is also a perfect disguise.
A highly skilled medical support staff member would never attract much attention from Chief Ling, who was averse to martial artists.
He can comfortably wear this "harmless" facade and enjoy the welfare resources provided by the state.
He even took advantage of his position to openly practice on injured team members, improving his experience in bone setting, massage, and other medical skills.
You can also consider using the special search team's mission system to proactively engage with dangerous but controllable supernatural events, turning them into opportunities to hone your skills.
Go to work, slack off, grind for experience, get paid, and even get five social insurances and one housing fund.
This is practically the perfect career tailor-made for him.
As for the so-called rules and constraints?
Fang Cheng's lips curled up slightly, forming a cold, sharp arc.
When your power is strong enough to crush the rules, you become the rules.
What Ma Jianguo and Shi Chengyi saw was merely a prodigy with almost monstrous martial arts talent.
They aspire to become the banner for the revival of martial arts.
But they didn't realize that what they wanted was never to revive any martial arts tradition.
Deep within Fang Cheng's eyes, beneath that tranquil pool, a faint, all-consuming golden flame flickered to life.
Martial arts are merely a means to achieve a goal.
What he truly desires is to stand at the pinnacle of this world and firmly grasp all destiny in his own hands.
Joining the Special Investigations Unit is not a compromise, nor is it surrender.
It is a deeper "role-playing" and a more advanced "hunting".
An ultimate game played out on the stage of the nation's violent machinery, with extraordinary powers from all over the world as its prey.
Thinking of this, Fang Cheng's last trace of hesitation vanished.
He reached out and gently ran his palm over the two cold masks.
Finally, his fingertip stopped on the red clown mask and flicked it lightly.
Zheng—
A clear, resonant sound, like metal striking stone, echoed in the bedroom, its lingering notes reverberating in the distance.
Outside the window, the hustle and bustle of the old factory street has faded away.
The occasional barking of dogs and the sound of engines from cars returning home late carried far in the stillness of the midnight.
The entire tenement building was exceptionally quiet, with almost no noise.
The neighbors in the building were obviously already fast asleep.
After making the decision, Fang Cheng felt relieved and completely at ease.
So he stood up, stretched, and prepared to take a shower in the bathroom before going to bed.
However, just as he turned around, he caught a glimpse of something unusual out of the corner of his eye.
Fang Cheng slowly turned his head, his gaze returning to the desk.
The red clown mask that he had just flicked now emitted a faint glow.
That wasn't a reflection of moonlight.
Instead, it is a strange light that emanates from within, alternating between light and darkness like breathing.
The bright red base color on the mask no longer seemed to be oil paint, but rather transformed into some kind of living thing.
A layer of viscous liquid, resembling blood, was slowly wriggling and flowing freely beneath the mask's surface.
This made that exaggerated smile appear even more sinister.
"Cuckoo..."
A burst of childlike laughter suddenly echoed in the depths of his mind.
The laughter was full of malice and greed, like a pair of cold little hands trying to touch his soul.
Fang Cheng's eyes remained calm.
Instead of backing away, he sat down again, leaning slightly forward.
With a calm and curious eye, as if scrutinizing prey, he carefully observed the changes on the mask.
Fang Cheng knew very well what was going on.
That flick just now, seemingly casual, was actually enough to easily pierce a hole in an ordinary mask, given his current strength and the hardness of his fingertips.
This mask was not only undamaged, but it also seemed to have had some dormant consciousness activated.
Fang Cheng observed intently and pondered for a moment.
So he stretched out his index finger again and slowly touched the mask that was "bleeding".
The touch from the fingertips is not the coldness and hardness of plastic or plaster.
It has a warm, soft, and even slightly pulsating fleshy texture.
Fang Cheng's eyes flickered slightly, and his heart skipped a beat.
The moment they made contact, something unexpected happened!
The red liquid flowing on the mask seemed to have finally found an outlet, and suddenly "gushed" out from where his fingertips touched it.
Then, like a long, red snake that had come to life, it quickly climbed up Fang Cheng's arm, following his finger.
(End of this chapter)