I Have 10 Trillion Dollars only Usable For Simping
Chapter 1318 - 909 Labor and Capital Shu Road Mountain (First Update)

Chapter 1318: 909 Labor and Capital Shu Road Mountain (First Update)

"Miss."

The silhouette of a figure outside was projected through the translucent door curtain.

Even though an uninvited guest had silently crept in, it didn’t mean that the mansion was completely defenseless.

However, perhaps because this was Shenzhou, there wasn’t much vigilance.

After all.

It was well known.

Shenzhou was the safest nation in this world.

One mustn’t forget, however, that anything could happen.

The woman’s scream inevitably drew the attention of the subordinates, and a knock was heard at the door.

"It’s okay, stand down."

The dazzling dagger glimmered with a blinding shine as the woman lying on the ground regained her natural tone.

Outside the door.

The silhouette slowly retreated.

Although the earlier scream was piercing, wasn’t having a nightmare just human nature? No need to make a fuss.

Perhaps stung by the cold glint, as the subordinates left, the woman’s eyes blinked, and her lashes fluttered.

It was obvious.

She had awoken from the initial chaotic state and could truly perceive that everything before her was no dream.

In her room, right beside her, indeed appeared a "ghostly figure," playing with a razor-sharp dagger capable of slicing hairs with ease.

"There’s no one else."

The woman, making a smart choice, spoke, exhibiting remarkable composure in such a situation.

It’s not a dream.

Of course.

The one who appeared beside her like a ghost was undoubtedly not a ghost.

Though the citizens had devoutly believed in the so-called Sun Illumination God since ancient times, even during prayers, she inwardly scoffed.

There are no ghosts or gods in this world.

The Sun Illumination God is a mere myth.

This fellow, who found his way here somehow, was the same.

That ghastly face that truly made one’s heart race with fear was clearly a disguised mask.

At most.

It’s just of high quality, likely not cheap.

For her perceptiveness, the masked intruder’s eyes—the only part exposed—showed an approving glance.

Eyes.

Are the windows to the soul.

Despite the frightening disguise and the illegal intrusion, those eyes indicated he wasn’t a malevolent person.

Perhaps this was why the woman could quickly regain her calm and dismiss her subordinates.

"Can I sit up?"

The woman spoke with refreshing breath, quite politely.

Faced with a criminal, especially one armed with a lethal weapon, her reaction could be considered textbook-worthy.

The masked intruder didn’t reply, silence being golden, as maintaining "mystique" was probably best in such a line of work.

The cold dagger glinted.

The woman, intelligent as she was, understood, and seeing this situation, obediently continued to lie down, softly saying, "But like this, I can’t make a bank transfer for you."

Her phone was certainly not by her side.

At the same time.

It seemed she mistook the mysterious masked intruder for a thief breaking in for a robbery.

Indeed.

In such a scenario, if it’s not about money, then it could only be about something else.

As for the latter.

Scary as it was, however, the other party had not made any untoward move and even chose to wake her up instead of taking advantage of her in her slumber.

It was evident.

He likely wasn’t a depraved sexual predator.

The masked intruder, predictably, remained silent.

Looking at the eyes—the only part visible outside the mask—the woman blinked her charming eyes, showing no trace of panic, even some playfulness and cuteness.

"Or do you want cash?"

"Oh, transferring would leave evidence."

She murmured to herself.

Truly considerate.

It’s not uncommon for robbers to wear masks.

But have you ever seen a victim considerate about a robber’s needs?

She continued lying there like a sculpture, "If it’s cash, it might take a while as I need to send someone to get it."

Saying this, she intended to sit up and send a command via phone.

At this moment, the masked intruder finally reacted, still cautiously not revealing his voice, silently shaking his head.

Under the threat of a sharp weapon, the woman raised her neck but had to lie back down.

Then.

He took the dagger, unhurriedly pointing it towards her belt.

Midsummer night.

No need for covers, naturally.

It seemed she was glad too soon.

He didn’t act while she was asleep, not because he sought money but perhaps because he enjoyed interacting with an alert target.

Indeed.

While asleep, she’s no different from a doll; where’s the thrill in that?

With his intent finally clear, yet absurdly, the woman lying like fish on a chopping board showed no sign of fear.

Of course.

Much likely a display of false bravado.

"You want me to take off my clothes?"

She seemed to hold onto a sliver of hope.

Unfortunately, the assailant’s body language clearly indicated the perilousness of her situation, and those eyes calmly nodded.

Only then did her breathing quicken, unable to maintain her disguise, "No. Whatever amount you want, we can negotiate."

Her eyes immediately turned sorrowful and pitiful, grabbing her collar like a helpless lady.

Unbeknownst to her, this demeanor might actually provoke the assailant’s malicious thoughts more easily.

The dagger, sharp enough to scar her face, hovered in the air; the crouching masked man, regardless of his character, had a strong principle.

Such a scene, no man might be able to bear it—could howl at the moon and turn into a wolf—but his eyes remained serene, without a ripple, still instructing the woman to undo her belt.

He seemed to deliberately wake her to enjoy the thrill of a conscious target undressing voluntarily.

"I’m not that kind of woman; even if you kill me, I won’t comply."

Previously free with her money, the woman now appeared a complete contradiction, clenching her collar with unwavering resolve, a picture of pure chastity completely at odds with her usual demeanor.

The masked man crouched beside her, observing her with one hand holding the dagger, raising the other hand with three fingers.

The classic "Three Province Gesture."

Though the woman was not from Sichuan and Shu, she seemed to understand, biting her lip with defiant eyes.

Bending his middle finger.

Bending his ring finger.

The masked man’s eyes grew cold, full of warning.

What a pity.

He seemed to have robbed a woman with a stark contrast between interior and exterior, lying on the floor, clutching her collar, ready to face life or death with unyielding spirit.

Finally, the last pinky finger was lowered.

"Swoosh."

With a turn, the knife struck like a snake.

Truly, words matched actions.

The woman seemed not to have expected him to be so heartless; no matter how strong someone was, they couldn’t completely control instinctive reactions; faced with the knife’s glint, her eyes wavered, then closed involuntarily.

"Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp..."

The sound of summer insects continued to rise and fall intermittently.

"Stab!"

Right by the woman’s ear, the dagger plunged inches into the wood, simultaneously slicing a strand of her hair.

"Sob..."

Perhaps due to fear, the woman didn’t open her eyes; she started to sob quietly, her sobbing gradually growing louder, truly feeling wronged and aggrieved.