Chapter 82: Agreement

“Underground racing?” Lin Xiao mused on the term.

These races typically weren’t legally sanctioned, nor did they have official organizers. Most were arranged by thrill-seeking young elites looking for excitement.

Unlike formal races, underground ones had no safety protocols. If an accident happened, no one took responsibility—it was simply chalked up to bad luck.

But the rewards were far greater, often several times—sometimes many times—higher than those of official competitions.

The combination of lucrative prize money and dangerous, unpredictable racecourses drew in plenty of participants, especially those desperate for cash or addicted to adrenaline.

Lin Xiao hadn’t expected this to be Chen Xue’s angle. His first instinct was to turn it down—but then, a thought occurred to him.

“Give me the details,” he said.

Lin Xiao didn’t immediately reject the proposal, and that small pause was all Chen Xue needed. A spark of delight lit up in his eyes as he quickly continued:

“Brother Lin, this underground race is organized by a luxury car club made up of wealthy young elites in Jinghai City. They’ve got both money and connections. Even though it’s technically underground, they’ve greased enough palms to keep everything running smoothly.

“On top of that, the prize money this time is significant. Of course, it might seem trivial to someone of your stature, Brother Lin—but if you win, your name will spread through Jinghai City’s entire underground racing scene.”

Lin Xiao raised an eyebrow. “What’s the prize?”

“Five million,” Chen Xue said, raising his right hand and spreading his fingers.

A faint glimmer passed through Lin Xiao’s eyes.

In the past, he would have refused without a second thought. After years in the military, he’d never had much use for money and rarely spent what he earned. Most of his bonuses and wages were donated—and what little remained, he had given to Yuan Yu.

Now, he barely had anything left.

However, after leaving the military, Lin Xiao had learned a valuable lesson—money might not be all-powerful, but being penniless was a condition best avoided.

Yuan Yu’s living and education expenses were growing, especially with her university entrance exams approaching, along with the tuition fees that would follow. On top of that, her mother’s medical bills were no small burden. The money Lin Xiao had already given Yuan Yu was just a drop in the bucket.

Though he was confident he could gather what was needed, it would take effort—and with an opportunity now laid before him, there was no reason to make things harder than they had to be.

After a moment of careful deliberation, Lin Xiao made his decision.

“When does it begin? Are there any specific conditions?”

Chen Xue responded promptly, “The race starts at nine o’clock tomorrow night. There are no conditions—anyone willing can register on-site.”

Suddenly, Lin Xiao’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and saw a strange, encrypted number.

“I have to take this. Tell me the venue, then you can go,” Lin Xiao said flatly, his tone shifting.

“Panlong Mountain,” Chen Xue swiftly replied, understading he was ushed away.

“I’ve noted that,” Lin Xiao said, phone in hand. He gave a slight nod, his gaze briefly meeting Chen Xue’s—a quiet signal, wordless but unmistakable: That’ll be all. You can go now.

Chen Xue caught the meaning immediately. The shift in Lin Xiao’s tone, the subtle dismissal in his eyes—this was not a conversation he was meant to linger for. With a respectful half-bow, he quickly turned to leave.

“Please, Brother Lin, take care,” he said, motioning for his men to follow.

The underlings, who had remained tense and silent throughout the exchange, didn’t need to be told twice. As a group, they turned and strode out of the parking lot, fading into the shadows with the uneasy haste of men who knew they had just brushed against something far beyond them.

Lin Xiao waited a moment, watching their retreat to ensure they were truly gone. Only then did he open the car door, slide into the driver’s seat, and answer the call.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away for long, Captain. When are you coming back?” said the voice on the other end, laced with teasing familiarity.

“Cut the crap,” Lin Xiao said sharply. “I’m not your captain anymore. Is this line secure?”

“Tch. Do you even have to ask? Of course it is.”

“Good. Shi Kai—I need a favor.”

His voice dropped into something harder now—low, steady, and dead serious. He knew full well he was breaching protocol. Reaching out to an active military operative was risky. He had to keep his promise and keep Yuan Yong’s family safe.

Shi Kai—codename Greedy Wolf—was a specialist in the Dragon Sword Squad. A top-tier hacker, he handled high-tech equipment, surveillance, terrain mapping, and mission-critical intelligence. When operatives were in the field, he was their eyes and ears.

The tone on the other end shifted instantly.

“What is it?” Shi Kai asked, all playfulness gone.

“I need a wide surveillance web set up for two people—a mother and daughter: Yuan Qi and Yuan Yu. It needs to be airtight, sensitive to any irregularities. I want to be alerted immediately about anything unusual—especially foreign or internal inquiries into them.”

“Yuan… wait—Brother Yong’s family?”

“Exactly.”

There was a pause on the line.

“So that’s why you retired, Captain? To look after Brother Yong’s family?” Shi Kai’s voice dropped. “But isn’t this a bit much? If they were in danger, the military would assign protection. There was no need for you to leave.”

“Do you really believe a few soldiers would be enough to contain that mercenary group?”

Shi Kai went quiet.

He had seen the drone footage. The mercenary unit Lin Xiao referred to wasn’t just dangerous—they were something else entirely. Whispers in the intelligence community spoke of black-ops programs, off-the-books funding, and enhancement trials that were never meant to see the light of day.

They moved like trained professionals, but faster, stronger, more precise—almost inhuman. Entire teams had been wiped out before they could react. What they left behind wasn’t just destruction—it was silence. Erasure.

But what haunted him more was the devastation after Lin Xiao had dealt with them. It wasn’t just a battle. It was a message.

“That mercenary group… how do they even know about Yuan Yong’s family?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lin Xiao said. His voice was calm, but beneath it lay something unshakable. “The only thing that matters is—they know.”

“You’re right, Captain. If they’re targeting Brother Yong’s family, then honestly—you’re the best protection they could ask for.”

Shi Kai paused, fingers tapping rapidly in the background.

“Okay… I’m seeing records now. His mother’s still hospitalized. Rough condition, but that actually makes things easier on my end. I’ll tap into the hospital’s internal network, set up a silent flag system. Any unauthorized access to her file or change in status outside of scheduled care? You’ll know within seconds.”

He kept going, his voice shifting into focused rhythm.

“I’ll also get into the hospital’s CCTV grid and set a motion-tracking perimeter around her floor. If anyone unusual shows up near her room, you’ll get a ping.”

Lin Xiao stayed quiet, listening.

“Now, Yuan Yu… that’s more complicated. She moves around a lot—school, transit, after-hours stuff. I’ll install a GPS shadow on her phone. Nothing invasive, just enough to monitor activity and plot movement patterns.”

A pause. Then, more typing.

“I’ll also piggyback on the local CCTV coverage in her neighborhood—use facial matching to tag and track anything strange. School’s easier. I can loop into their camera feeds and set behavior-based alerts. If someone loiters near the gate too long or follows her more than once, we’ll know.”

He exhaled. “That’s the cleanest setup I can manage without tripping alarms or raising questions.”

“That’s good. It’s mostly for the hours I can’t be with them. Thank you, Shi Kai.”

“No problem, Captain.” There was a brief pause—and then Shi Kai’s voice softened with a smile behind it. “So… when are you coming back?”

Lin Xiao smiled faintly, just enough for himself. “I’m not sure.”

With that, he ended the call and started the car. The engine of the Rolls-Royce growled to life, low and powerful. A light press on the accelerator was all it took—the vehicle surged out of the parking lot like a caged beast unleashed, leaving behind a faint trail of dust in its wake.

***

“Big Brother,” one of the juniors called out, confusion etched across his face as he watched the Rolls-Royce disappear into the distance, “why were you so polite to that guy?”

“Yeah, Big Brother,” another chimed in. “Sure, we probably couldn’t mess with a car like that—but we don’t even know if it really belongs to him. We had numbers on our side. What were we afraid of?”

“If word of this gets out, our reputation in the underworld’s going to take a serious hit!” a third added, his tone laced with frustration.

Their faces were clouded with discontent as they looked to Chen Xue for answers. Fortunately, his usual authority still carried weight—otherwise, they might’ve already started throwing insults.

Still, the dissatisfaction simmered. Some of them were already thinking: If Big Brother doesn’t have a good reason for backing down, we’re out of here.

This ragtag crew had only followed Chen Xue because of his ruthlessness and boldness. But now, after watching him bow his head to Lin Xiao, their fear—and respect—had begun to waver.

Chen Xue noticed the shift immediately. The whispers, the narrowed eyes, the clenched jaws.

Displeasure flickered across his face. Without warning, he lunged at the most outspoken underling and drove a hard kick into his stomach.

“All of you, shut your damn mouths!”

His roar thundered through the air, catching the others off guard.

When they snapped back to their senses, they saw their comrade curled up on the ground, groaning in pain. The sight shut them up instantly.

So—no, Chen Xue hadn’t gone soft. He was still as brutal as ever.

He followed up with another vicious kick, sending the thug rolling across the pavement. Then he swept his gaze over the group, his expression fierce, his eyes filled with a murderous edge that froze them in place.

“Fools,” Chen Xue snapped. “I was trying to save you. Don’t you get it? You’re a bunch of shortsighted morons. You have no idea how dangerous that man is.”

He pointed at them with disgust.

“If we’d really pissed him off, he could’ve wiped us out with a flick of his finger.”

The memory of Lin Xiao’s presence—the cold, dismissive gaze that made Chen Xue feel like a bug underfoot—flashed through his mind. Rage and humiliation mixed in his voice as he barked, “Don’t go thinking you’re tough just because you can throw punches in back alleys. In front of a real expert, you’re nothing.”

The underlings stood in stunned silence, still shaken by their comrade’s groans and Chen Xue’s raw fury. They didn’t understand everything, but they knew better than to push further.

After a long pause, one of them—the one closest to Chen Xue—mustered the courage to speak, “Big Brother… is that guy really that strong? He looked like just some guy. Built, sure, but… normal.”

Chen Xue turned to him slowly, his voice dropping to something colder.

“That’s exactly why I said you’re all blind as bats.”

Chen Xue’s harsh words poured out as he finally vented his frustration. First, he’d had to humble himself in front of Lin Xiao—then his own underlings had the nerve to question him. He’d been holding it in, but now it came out like a dam breaking.

“From now on, you idiots better keep your eyes wide open. Do you know what matters most in this line of work?”

The underlings shook their heads, silent.

Chen Xue pointed first to his eyes, then to his head. “It’s these. Sharp eyes and a clear head. Sure, you can fight, but there’s always someone stronger. You might think you’re ruthless, but there’s always someone more ruthless. Strength alone doesn’t keep you alive down here. Brains do.”

He paused, letting his words sink in.

“You need to know who you can afford to provoke and who you absolutely can’t. When it’s time to bow your head, you bow. Pride’s not worth dying for.”

The underlings nodded, some with understanding, others simply out of fear. None dared argue.

Then one of them spoke up hesitantly, “But Boss… if that guy’s really that dangerous, why tell him about the car race? Wouldn’t it be safer to just steer clear?”

Chen Xue smirked and stroked his chin, confidence returning to his voice. “What do you know? I’ve got my own plans.”

He glanced toward the street, eyes gleaming. “For all we know, we might hit the jackpot this time. Just sit back and watch.”